Elaine Hajian, Artist

It is with great daughterly pride that I announce my mother’s solo art exhibition at the Queens Botanical Garden. Yay Mommy!! This event has been almost a year in the making, and what a joyous triumph it is. Mom’s show, titled “Evolution of an Artist”, has just been unveiled in the Visitor’s Building and will remain on view until January 17th. Also, Mom is teaching a Plein Air Art Workshop this Saturday at the Botanical Garden. So basically, Mama is on a roll! I can’t tell you all how proud I am of her, happy for her, and how much my brother and I are sharing in her palpable exuberance during this time of artistic renewal in her life. The reception will take place on Sunday, October 26th, which also happens to be Mom’s 79th birthday. How cool is that? :-)

Mom assembled a collection of her paintings that combine older pieces with new works, in oils and pastels, the latter being her favorite medium. Thanks to the invaluable assistance of her dear friends Joyce and Ed Morrill, the show came together magnificently, and the wonderful staff at the Botanical Garden are absolutely delighted to have mom’s paintings on display in their center. I took some photos on Wednesday.

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The reflecting pool outside the building can be seen through the floor-level windows:

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While most of the pieces are landscapes and cityscapes, this section was curated nicely to group together sentimental subjects: portrait of my great-grandfather, an Armenian farm girl, a knitting grandma, and my cat Monty in a special work Mom gave me as a present after he died. It’s “Not for Sale”, but rather “on loan” from the walls of my house:

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So you can fully grasp the beautiful setting of the show amid the Queens Botanical Garden, this is the view from the exhibition space. Much nicer than those windowless galleries on the west side if you ask me:

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The lovely Rose Garden on the grounds that would inspire any artist, still looking healthy and vigorous in early October:

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Congratulations Mom! You are so vital, so tireless, so youthful and enthusiastic in your outlook on life. I admire you, truly, with all my heart :-)

And Museworthy readers, Music Monday returns next week! So stop by in a few days and we’ll have lots of fun. See you soon!

Happy 7th Birthday Museworthy!!

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your … eyes …
I come not to bury anyone, but to praise … my readers …

Here we are again, my darlings. Another mini milestone on the blogging odyssey. Forgive me for the grandiose word but I do see it as an “odyssey” of sorts. Maybe it doesn’t rise to the level of epic Greek poetry, but in my heart and soul this blog is a place of discovery and warmth, discourse and revelation. What do we do here at Museworthy? We laugh, we wonder, we question and often challenge, we relish beauty, poetry and music, we examine and study, share, reminisce, and admire. I “know” all of you. Some better than others of course. But even those of you whose email addresses have held steady in my subscribers list for years, choose to lurk quietly, and read my new posts as they pop into your mailboxes, yes you too. I see you, and appreciate you. And to everyone, keep sticking with me I’ll keep sticking with you. We have much more to explore. And it will be a blast, that’s a promise ;-)

The annual Museworthy “blogaversary” wouldn’t mean a damn without the tradition of a Fred Hatt photo of yours truly. We’ve done it since year one. We hit it this year with a variation of a standing contrapposto, which the artists among you know is a timeless art modeling classic. Thank you, Fred. You rock, my dear friend …

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Our music for this year’s party is the Southern rock stylings of Little Feat. This is “Two Trains” from their 1973 album Dixie Chicken, so get your feet tappin’ and spirits groovin’. As for year eight of Museworthy? I’m ready if you guys are. Let’s do it! Hugs and smooches to you all, and a most sincere and grateful THANK YOU for your readership. It absolutely means the world. Bless you all for your generosity …

Love, your muse, Claudia xoxo

 

Jets and Parasols

The two year refurbishing and redesign of the Metropolitan Museum plaza is finally completed and open to the public. On Saturday after modeling at the National Academy I decided to take a stroll down Fifth Avenue and check out the spanking new space. It was far less elaborate than I had expected, but I soon came to appreciate the sophistication of its simplicity. With elegant new granite, paving stones, trees and fountain, the plaza runs the length of four city blocks along the Museum’s stately entrance. I took a few pictures to share here on the blog.

These red parasols are really cool and provide shaded areas to sit and enjoy the sights of Fifth Avenue:

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The fountain is wonderful. The water jets delighted everyone with a gushing, cascading dance:

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Now my Museworthy friends, please visit on Wednesday for the next post in which we will have our annual celebration of this blog’s “birth”. Hope you join me! See you soon :-)

A Vermeer Souvenir

I’m a sucker for museum gift shops. To me they are vastly different from the typical tourist knickknack stand. Why? Because a shot glass with the I <3 NY logo on it isn’t nearly as charming as a shot glass with Matisse’s Blue Nude. Then again, maybe shot glasses aren’t “charming” at all, so let’s ditch the shot glasses and consider the notecards and postcards, ready-to-hang prints, umbrellas, glass paperweights, and tote bags. Art museums are proud of their permanent collections, as they should be, and they happily hawk goodies that bear the images of the mainstay masterpieces which adorn their gallery walls.

The gift shop at the National Gallery of Art was huge! Like a floor in a department store. When I strolled in after viewing the Degas/Cassatt show I thought “I’m gonna be in here for an hour!”. Luckily I kept the time, and my spending, to a minimum. I came out with a bookmark of Vermeer’s Woman Holding a Balance, one of the National Gallery’s prized possessions. I was genuinely in need of a new bookmark so it’s all good. Here she is already at work holding a place:

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It’s a trivial thought, but I wonder what the great artists would think if they saw their work mass produced in this way .. on bookmarks, baubles, and magnets? How would Degas feel knowing that his Dancers were holding a grocery list on a refrigerator? Or da Vinci if he learned that people were sipping coffee from a  Mona Lisa mug? We’ll never know. The way I see it, if I’m going to use a bookmark, why not glance at a Vermeer when I turn the page? He comes with me as I ride the train and read, and to modeling jobs when I read on my breaks. How I love Vermeer :-)

And here is the full Vermeer painting Woman Holding a Balance, from 1664:

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This is a magnificent painting in so many ways, considered by some to be Vermeer’s best. The woman is most likely Vermeer’s wife Catharina, who was probably the model also for Girl Reading a Letter by an Open WindowOne can clearly see a resemblance between the two. As always with Vermeer, the composition is extraordinary. Horizontal, vertical, and diagonal “lines” are organized with geometric brilliance, and they converge at the visual center of the piece which lies at the woman’s hand holding the balance. And since a balance is a weighing and measuring instrument, Vermeer creates a fully realized work consistent with the theme of equilibrium. Also take note of the arrangement of color: two masses of blue in the woman’s jacket and the blue cloth on the table, and small dots of sparkle in the pearls in the open jewelry box.

The intriguing nature of Vermeer’s work takes us deeper when we analyze the subtext of this painting. Art scholars have stressed the significance of the painting in the background. It is a depiction of “The Last Judgment”, and you can bet not some random choice by Vermeer. The artwork page for this work on the National Gallery website offers this interesting assessment:

The woman’s gaze at the balance, when considered in the context of the Last Judgment on the wall behind her, suggests that Vermeer, a Catholic, sought to infuse this work with religious and spiritual significance. Saint Ignatius of Loyola instructed the faithful to examine their consciences and weigh their sins as if facing Judgment Day. Only such deliberation could lead to virtuous choices along the path of life. Poised between the earthly treasures of gold and pearls before her and Last Judgment painting’s stark reminder of the eternal consequences of her actions, this woman personifies the values of materialism and morality that jostled for dominance in 17th-century Dutch society.

Yeah, maybe that is too much to squeeze onto a bookmark! But I don’t care. Vermeer is marking my places as I read, and learn, and embark on journeys both intellectual and spiritual, and reminding me, with his serene and contemplative woman, to seek balance, harmony, and sound values in life.

Explore this painting further at Essential Vermeer

Portrait of Jessie

Helloooo friends! Hope you all had a great weekend. Is it just me or is this summer just flying by? I need to get more sun because pretty soon I’ll wake up one morning and it will be Labor Day already!

I’m hoping to get down to DC this week for two shows: Degas/Cassatt  at the National Gallery and Artists and their Models at the Archives of American Art. I also have two modeling gigs and possibly – hopefully – a family sit-down to straighten out our issues. Oblivious to all of this human drama is Jessie the cat, who hasn’t made an appearance on Museworthy in a long time. I realize that cat pictures are not exactly rare on the Internet, but I couldn’t resist sharing this one with all of you. Sweet Jessie was taking a nap in the garden this afternoon so naturally I had to disturb her for a little photo shoot. My girl :-)

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Thank You Robin

The evil beast has snatched another victim. Or the “Black Dog” as Winston Churchill called it. No matter the descriptive epithet, depression is an absolutely brutal, unforgiving, unrelenting vicious illness. Those of us who suffer from it can try to convey its debilitating effects to non-sufferers and hope that they simply take our word for it. Clinical depression is nothing short of a fiend. A malicious demon that battles for your very soul. It keeps you constantly on the defensive, menacing you, taunting you. Yesterday, beloved actor Robin Williams tragically reached the point – the point of no return – where he just could not make it through one more day. In his California home, he took his own life. He was 63 years old. God rest his soul.

A shy, bullied only child, raised in the midwest, often left alone to his own devices, Williams seized his coping mechanisms, carried them into adulthood, and spun them into pure magic. A husband, father of three, Julliard alum, Oscar winner, stand-up comic, devoted friend, tireless supporter of the USO and St. Jude Children’s Hospital, actor of such astonishingly vast range he could communicate, and communicate with complete authenticity, both hilarity and heartbreak, joy and pathos, absurdity and earnestness. The performer who can transition between comedy and drama is a rare breed. Jack Lemmon comes to mind, as does Tom Hanks. But Robin Williams as an individual revealed a warmth and self-deprecating candor that is uncommon among show business types. He made no secret of his drug and alcohol addictions, his insecurities, and of course, his decades long struggle with depression. He sought, above all else, to entertain us. And boy did he.

Robin Williams, our genie and jester. Our alien, our mime, our english teacher, our Boston shrink, our stream-of-consciousness talk show guest … ours. Rest in peace. And thank you.

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Light Years

I was going to open my birthday blog post with some “wise” and insightful quote about how aging is really a liberating, beautiful experience full of maturity and honesty or whatever, but come on . . . those quotes are all horseshit. And if anyone tells me that as a woman at 46 I am “ripening” they’re getting a knee to the groin. Ripening? What am I, a banana?

It goes without saying that I am grateful to be alive, healthy, and celebrating a birthday as opposed to, you know, NOT celebrating one. On the other hand, I can’t exactly bring myself to jump for joy either. It doesn’t help that I overheard a conversation between two guys on a crowded subway a few weeks ago. One of them was telling the other about a woman at his gym who flirts with him regularly. While he conceded that she was very nice and looked good, attractive and fit, he said he’ll never ask her out because, and I quote, “She’s old. She’s like 40!”. His friend shared in the horror by replying “Ew! That sucks.” The “ew” was a nice touch, don’t you think? There I was standing right next to these guys, trapped with no way to escape until my stop came up. The conductor’s announcement of 14th Street never sounded so good. I was outta there. What a relief.

Just a couple of New York jerks, right? Not worth getting upset over? Perhaps. But that attitude is much more prevalent than you think. Much much more. Especially in this city, which has ruthless tendencies. Yes, that attitude is hurtful, even cruel at times. Take my word for it. I have extensive firsthand experience. So today, on my 46th birthday, I feel like I have to apologize for not being Kate Upton.

My mother gave birth to me in 1968 and there’s nothing I can do to change that. Nor can I change, apparently, my habit of taking selfies on Photo Booth after knocking back a couple of Mike’s Hard Lemonades. Heck it’s my birthday. If I want to make an ass out of myself I will ;-)

4-up on 7-21-14 at 7.47 PM (compiled)

4-up on 7-21-14 at 7.48 PM (compiled)

4-up on 7-21-14 at 7.48 PM #13 (compiled)