Just to make you envious, I can now reveal that I met up with fellow blogette, the gloriously attractive, funny, talented Emily Evans Eerdmans in London recently. She has been famous for writing 'the book I got for Christmas' a couple ago, the gorgeous, magisterial Regency Redux so I was excited.
To celebrate their first 'paper' wedding anniversary, her husband Andrew bought her a plane ticket to accompany him on his visit to conduct a major seminar. That's enough to recommend anybody but I am still tempted to tell you that he's a charming, gentle and thoughtful man with a dry sense of humour and a mission to persuade companies about sustainable economics, about reassessing the value of commerce beyond the notion of the bottom line. I probably haven't got that exactly right but I found it all most reassuring.
Emily has written about what we all got up to here and I make no apologies for introducing them to an almost forbidden pleasure..
I know, I know. It will induce apoplexy in many, the cry of Hallelujah! in some.
The bee apparently was the oldest emblem of the sovereigns of France and symbolized immortality and resurrection. But Napoleon Bonaparte with his glorious talent for self-invention and legendary personal style appropriated the bee for use on his own insignia, reinscribing it with the notion of the hive, of The Republic with himself at the head. (I hadn’t really thought of Napoleon as Queen Bee before and nor I imagine had he.)
Today, the motif is a gift to interior designers to represent the Empire style. I stayed in a nouveau-Empire themed hotel the other day and couldn’t help noticing the scatter cushions made of black silk woven with these pretty golden insects. Made me feel tres Josephine pour un moment.
The top image comes from an absolutely lush blog called Trouvais (taken from the book 'Fabrics: The Decorative Art of Textiles' by Caroline Lebeau); read more about Napoleon's imperial mantle here; last image from Trouvais. I do recommend it.
To figure out the difference between terms like neo-classical, regency, empire and directoire visit design historian Emily Evans Eerdmans blog here.
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And now, since Spring has finally arrived, with its heavy-scented blossoms I can present Emma Kirkby singing Where The Bee Sucks There Suck I. (For some unaccountable reason this clip starts with some hugely inappropriate remarks but please ignore them because Kirkby's is my favourite version and it is utterly delightful.)
Where the bee sucks, there suck I; In a cowslip's bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly. After summer merrily, merrily shall I live now. Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
William Shakespeare
(From 'The Tempest', words spoken by Ariel after he is set free by Prospero.)
Lately, I've been losing the will to live each time I remind myself that Rose C'est La Vie needs dusting down and a shiny new post put up. It's horrible and I've diagnosed the problem as a mixture of trying too hard and not trying very hard at all.
Just as I was thinking this, I found that awesome blogger Emily Evans Eerdmans was writing this:
I have been encouraged by a new friend to be more regular in my postings - even if they are short and half-baked.
See what happened here. You've got to read the comments.
Alice played by 19 year old Australian actor Mia Wasikowska staring into a very weird future.
Encountering the White Rabbit in the most plaintiff of enchanted gardens.
Shape-shifting Johnny Depp collaborates once more with Burton achieving a Mad Hatter who appears to be radioactively candy-coloured. Is that a Philip Treacy titfer?
I love Burton's wife Helena Bonham Carter as the cruel Red Queen. Cruel? Her face somehow reminds me of an Ideal Home kitchen c. 1954.
Good heavens, it's a double dose of Little Britain's Matt Lucas as Tweedle Dum n Tweedle Dee. He's a good enough reason on his own to see this film.
Pure Burton magic. I love films that play with scale like this. Can't wait.
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