Elizabeth Adams's Blog, page 54

Book List, 2014

Well, we're almost at the end of 2014, so in keeping with tradition, here's my book list for this past year. I didn't read as many titles as in some years, but there are a couple of real tomes in there too. I've been enjoying a new way of reading: borrowing e-books and audiobooks for free via OverDrive, through the Bibliotheque Nationale. You do it all via your own computer, and can download books to read there or on your tablet or phone. The selection increases all the time, and books can be borrowed for period of 21 days and renewed after that.

I greatly enjoyed the big new biography of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and subsequently re-read some of his works. Other particular highlights of the year were Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie; my friend Tom Montag's poetry collection In This Place; Interior Circuit by Francisco Goldman and City of Palaces by Michael Nava - both books about Mexico City; and the wonderful Out of Arizona by frequent Cassandra Pages commenter Roderick Robinson.

For Christmas I was completely surprised and delighted to receive a special gift from J.: a signed copy of Seamus Heaney's North. I'm slowly reading through that now.

(The full list, back to 2002, is here.)

Please post your own lists or highlights of 2014 in the comments!

 

Book List 2014

North, Seamus Heaney

Dark Voyage, Alan Furst*

The End of the Affair, Graham Greene (re-read)

The Hare with Amber Eyes, Edmund de Waal

Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel Garcia Marquez (re-read)

All Hallow's Eve, Charles Williams

Ways of Seeing, John Berger**

One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez** (re-read)

The View From Lazy Point, Carl Safina

Gabriel Garcia Marquez: A Life, Gerard Martin*

The Lost Painting, Jonathan Harr**

The Upstairs Wife: an Intimate View of Pakistan, Rafia Zakaria*

Americanah, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie*

Interior Circuit: A Mexico City Chronicle, Francisco Goldman*

In This Place, Tom Montag

Rise the Euphrates, Carol Edgarian*

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou*

Town and Country, Alice and Martin Provensen

Mexican Muralists, Rochfort,Desmond

The Swerve, Stephen Greenblat

Strange Pilgrims, Gabriel Garcia Marquez (re-read)

Montreal Stories, Mavis Gallant

Silent Compassion: Finding God in Contemplation, Richard Rohr*

Mexico and modern printmaking : a revolution in the graphic arts, 1920 to 1950

The Art of Mesoamerica: from Olmec to Aztec, Mary Ellen Miller

Baltics, Tomas Transtromer

Out of Arizona, Roderick Robinson*

City of Palaces, Michael Nava

The Deleted World, Tomas Transtromer

Siddhartha, Hermann Hesse*

The System, Claudia Serea

* indicates books read as e-books, ** were audiobooks

 

 

Christmas Greens and Reds

Drawing and painting a bit, on these slower days of Christmas week. The holly and yew branches I brought back from central New York are still looking bright and cheerful.

This "Turkey Red" tablecloth is an heirloom of sorts and always comes out at Christmas. My grandmother had a collection of these and I always loved them. They are reversible; the other side is simply the opposite, with the lighter parts of the pattern appearing as dark red and the background lighter pink. The other day I got into drawing these patterns; it's interesting to me how a proliferation of patterns flattens the picture plane. Matisse and Gauguin both used that effect in their paintings.

Still life with smoked salmon and dill on a Chinese plate. Fountain pen on paper, 9" x 6".

Maybe this profusion of pattern says something about how I'm feeling after the holidays, too...

It's been dark, windy, and rainy in Montreal this week, though not terribly cold. The snow is almost all gone, but we wake in darkness and the sun is going down again around 3:30 or 4. A Christmas present to myself was a lightweight v-neck cashmere sweater, on mail-order sale, in a beautiful bright pink, and I've been wearing it almost every day to cheer myself up. Nevertheless, I feel perpetually sleepy in this kind of weather -- and probably need to catch up on some sleep as well.

And how are you all doing? 

Merry Christmas!

May all the sweetness of this season fill your heart!

With love to all of you,

A Christmas Wish, and a Look Forward

Still life with donkey, copper vase, and Christmas greens. Pen on paper, 9" x 6".

It's a moment, in a particular season, a particular life. My father-in-law's terracotta donkey from Damascus; an Egyptian copper tray and vase that was a gift from my sister-in-law; greens and holly brought from my mother's garden in central New York, where my own family has lived for two centuries.

Our marriage brought together two cultures. When my parents-in-law were young people in the Middle East, Muslims, Jews, and Christians all lived together in the ancient cities -- Damascus, Beirut, Jerusalem, and so many others -- in relative harmony. They came here after World War II because they could see what was starting to happen. Over the time of our own marriage, we've seen the last bits of that harmony disintegrate. Yes, there are individuals and organizations that are still trying, and some places that are less war-torn than others, but as I drew this picture last night I felt the sadness of that little mute donkey, worn smooth by the touch of hands, as well as gratitude that in my own life I've been able to experience some of the richness that intercultural living imparts -- a richness that I think is meant to be our cherished heritage as human beings on a shared planet.

May it be so, someday, not too far away.

---

Along with several other writers, my friend Teju Cole was asked by Aperture, "What kind of pressure does photography place on the written word today?" His answer addresses, in part, my own question: what is the point of trying to make beautiful images -- images which reference the past in their reliance on paper, ink, old techniques, and use as their subject everyday objects -- in a world so torn by violence and the pressure of the exterior on our interior lives?

If my work and my life were completely consumed with that interiority, or with the preservation of some sort of peace and the continuation of comfort, that would be problematic for me. But it's precisely in everyday objects and scenes that I find echoes of the political, and I am trying to find ways to explore that without co-opting the grimness or violence or fear of the exterior world. To me, making dark and violent art is too obvious an answer, and often veers off into the cynical. During this past year, I've been feeling my way toward other ways of expressing this predicament in which I find myself.

Family Coffeepot and Fossil: Thinking of Gaza. Acrylic on paper, 2014.

Most of us, in this hemisphere anyway, live our lives in relative comfort but in an atmosphere of anxiety and awareness - though that is a relative term - of the tenuousness of life, freedom, and peace for a great majority of others. More and more of us are aware of the ways in which our lifestyles impact the lives of that majority, and how we are complicit. By the same token, our participation in these systems of suffering and oppression is not, for the most part, chosen: we and our tax dollars are being used by the systems of power, and our governments are involved in actions we would never willingly condone.

How does art intersect with that reality, and that knowledge? How do we, as artists and writers, move forward with integrity, with hope, but also acknowledging and honoring the long tail of the past in which the search for beauty and meaning has been vital to human life and culture?

Teju writes (he's talking about photography, but we can say the same for the other arts:)

I want images that address the predicaments of the present moment, in a political sense, but that also allow for poetry and lyricism. In any case, those things may not be necessarily divorced from each other: paper has to come from somewhere; the equipment used to make a camera is made from materials that are traded on the world market, including materials that come from conflict zones. Machines have lyricism (once we learn to see it) and poetry comes at a cost (if we are willing to admit it). The connection this has to my writing? I try to apply those same goals (of politics and poetry) to the written word, too. So, we may be awash in images and words these days, but poetry still matters. It is still as elusive as it ever was, and, just as ever, it is still worth chasing down.

--Teju Cole in "Words vs Images," Aperture #217, Winter 2014

 

Christmas Baking

Another quick sketch, of Saturday's activities. It doesn't show all the flour on the floor! I think what I like best in this sketch is the crumpled plastic bag at far right. I've almost filled the sketchbook I started in January 2014 -- time to order a new one!

 

 

Sketch with Sumi Ink Bottle

 

During our recent trip to central New York to celebrate my dad's 90th birthday -- which was quite a celebration! -- we picked up a couple of packages, one of which was a new extra-fine nib for my Lamy fountain pen. When we got back I changed the nib and did two drawings of the same subject, just from slightly different angles, with my favorite fountain pen (top) and with the Lamy (bottom). While I still prefer the flexibility of the Sheaffer nib, I'm quite happy with the Lamy now.

 

Then I added some watercolor; the fountain pen ink (Skrip cartridge) isn't permanent so you get blurry lines, while the lines drawn with the Lamy and Noodler's Lexington Gray ink retain their crispness. I don't think it's a case of either/or - they're both nice, just different -- do you have a preference?

On another artist's website I read that you can mix inks in an empty fountain pen cartridge to get the color you want -- a great idea that had certainly never occured to me. I'm not going to be putting permanent inks in the valuable pen, though.

Spaking of permanent inks: this bottle of Yasutomo sumi ink, in its characteristic "jade green" container, is one I've had for ages. The most meta thing to do would have been to draw another sketch using a dip pen and the sumi ink...but that's a bit too obsessive, even for me!

Scenes from a rural weekend

Wild turkeys in the corn.

Roadside, Paris Hill, NY.

Crows.

Not too late!

One little plug for Phoenicia Publishing before the holidays are totally upon us -- and a thank you to all my blog readers who've been so supportive and have bought books or music over the past year. I appreciate you more than I can possibly say!

Here's a link to the  Phoenicia Fall_Winter 2014 newsletter which includes a gift suggestion list and a special holiday offer, valid for direct orders between now and the end of the year. I can't believe it, but we've got over 20 titles now, and some exciting ones to come in 2015. Independent publishing is not a money-making endeavor, but it's a definite labor of love and a perfect fit for my particular skills at this point in life. I'm very proud of what we've accomplished so far, and so pleased to note that most of the authors and artists I've worked with at Phoenicia are people I've met over the years through this blog and through qarrtsiluni. So grateful for that!

Tree

In and Out

The lace in this doorway is typical of old entrances in the Plateau; there are different kinds of lace curtains but all are made to the dimensions of the long glass windows in entrance doors. I especially like the scalloped and tasseled detail here, at the bottom. This one is made using a technique called filet crochet, and reminds me of the intricate scenes my neighbor Esther used to crochet back in Vermont. She was from an old Quebecois family, and had probably learned the art as a child - but back then, I never made the connection. Filet crochet can range from fairly coarse detail to extremely fine, depending on the size of thread used - and of course, the finer the thread and detail, the longer it takes. As in needlepoint or crosstitch, patterns are charted out on graph paper, with the squares corresponding to the crochet stitches.

Most windows, however, don't act as such perfect mirrors of the scene outside as the one on the right did, this particular morning.