My mom visited Chicago last week and I was so excited. First I took her to The Drake for afternoon tea and champagne.
Then we went to the Art Institute (where I am now a member) to look at her favorite Impressionists.
And I cooked a Thanksgiving feast. (I love putting on my apron!)
{photos: nikon f100 and fuji pro 400h}
I took these photos with color film, Fuji Pro 400H, but the drugstore scans rendered the colors so poorly, I converted to B&W. (Sadly, the photography store with high-quality one-hour developing just went out of business.) One can never go wrong with B&W.
Traditions bring comfort to life. While I associate their familiarity with childhood, I'm attracted to the idea of creating new traditions for my adult life in the city. After reading about traditional British Sunday roasts in Kinfolk, I decided to seek out this experience while visiting London. A few months later, my friend Trisha and I found ourselves at the Old Red Cow one Sunday in October.
The idea is simple: a big and heavy meal in the afternoon, paired with some pints, enjoyed leisurely with friends. This meal easily can be the only thing one does all day.
{photos: mamiya 645 and fuji 400h film}
I decided to make this a tradition of my own. My plan is to cook Sunday Roasts at home a couple of times a month this winter, extending an open and casual invitation to friends who feel like stopping by. Throwing a chicken and vegetables in a pot is easy, makes my home smell delicious, and allows me to stay in my cashmere robe all day. :-)
My Polaroid Land Camera 250 came to Europe with me. The vintage folding camera and accompanying Fuji pack film are very fussy. Trisha, my patient traveling companion, could attest to time I spent messing with these pictures. I really wanted the camera to take pictures for our travel journals, but at times I questioned whether it was worth the trouble. But at the end of the day, I simply adore the results. Polaroid is my soft spot.
Last year while visiting NYC, I bought a matted polaroid transfer print at the Brooklyn Flea. The print fits perfectly in a wooden frame that I picked up from a yard sale years ago. Now this hangs next to my bed.
Seems that the photographer's most popular photos are flaccid "girls" stuff that leaves me cold, but his other work is cool. Shown above is Seattle Trees.
I have never been a dancer, but I love the ballet. This year for the first time, I secured season tickets to the Joffrey Ballet, thanks to an excellent groupon deal. Their first production was Human Landscapes, a series of three shorter ballets that included The Green Table, described as "a dance of death in eight scenes."
While I have seen some less traditional productions, such as Rites of Spring, most of the ballets have been traditional - think Swan Lake and Giselle. The Green Table was a different experience for me: an overtly political, anti-war ballet. Beginning and ending with ghoulish political theater, the ballet focuses on the human consequences that result when futile negotiations lead to war. One-by-one, Death dancing with the war's victims, soldiers, civilians, and refugees. Striking piano music accompanies the dancing, creating an overall effect of chilling beauty.
The Green Table was first produced 80 years ago, between the First and Second World Wars. Unfortunately, the symbolism is just as fitting for our modern day circumstances, with its drone strikes and Gaza Strip. The clip below shows the "negotiations" and the entrance of Death (opening credits end at 40 seconds). The rest of the production is also available on YouTube.
