Pipe Dreams
Hi hi hi hi hi hi hi . . . . I’m here friends! Once again I let the blog lag for days. Sorrrry!! Since I’m here now I must ask you all to please refrain from sending me hostile emails and death threats, ok? <—just kidding 
Anyway, allow me to redeem myself with a little Music Monday. Let’s do it.
So I stopped by the Met Museum on Saturday after modeling at the National Academy. The main purpose of my visit was to see the Rembrandt self-portrait that was temporarily on view at the Met while the Kenwood House, the portrait’s regular home, undergoes renovations. Afterwards, I wandered into the Musical Instrument galleries and, as usual, I was the only person in there besides the lone museum guard who seemed bored out of his mind. I’ve been going to the Met all my life, and I’ve noticed that people neglect this section of the museum. What a shame. Given that it’s adjacent to and overlooks the very popular American Wing, means there’s even less excuse to snub this fun treasure trove.
I was struck by this fantastic looking Great Highland Bagpipe from Glasgow. Constructed of ebony, ivory, silver, leather, cane, and MacGregor tartan cloth, it seemed to command attention so I took a picture. The bagpipe is in a glass case so there are some reflections in the photo:
Another bagpipe, this one from the Brittany region of France, mid-19th century. It’s played with a double reed and commonly used in Breton folk dancing:
Since it was Rembrandt, the king of all Dutch artists, who brought me to the Met on Saturday, I thought I’d post a bagpipe painting by another Dutch artist, Hendrick ter Brugghen. From 1624, this is Bagpipe Player. I love that it’s done in a profile view. Very effective:
Bagpipes today are commonly associated with parade marches, military ceremonies, police funerals, and the like. But the instrument – or some variation of a pipe attached to a bag – has existed for centuries on many continents. The sound of bagpipes is not loved by everyone, as it tends to be harsh, high-pitched, and reedy. And it is extremely loud. In fact, bagpipes have been the subject of much ridicule over the years. Famous figures from Alfred Hitchcock to Shakespeare have all taken jabs at the bagpipes. I believe it was either Oliver Herford or William Butler Yeats who made the crack that the Irish invented the bagpipes as a joke and gave them to the Scottish, who still haven’t figured out the joke. Aww, poor bagpipes! I think it’s only fair to acknowledge that the bagpipe sound is also melodic and distinct. In a proper setting and in the hands of a skilled musician, the bagpipes are quite capable of transfixing the listener .
Let’s conclude this post with a bagpipe track. This is “Strathspey and Reel: John Roy Stewart/Thompson’s Dirk”, performed by pipe major Jim Drury and julia McGurk, from the album Highland Bagpipes.
Jessie and the Moon
Ehhh . . . grrr . . . moods. Perturbation. Agitation. Disquietude. Anxiety. Unease. Confusion. Bewilderment. Angst. Yes, it’s been a bothersome 36 hours. Mind cluttered, thoughts preoccupied, a little tense, a little sad, worries that are both real and (possibly) imagined. In other words, I don’t know what the fuck is going on. That pretty much sums it up in a nutshell.
But we pass through these things. Always. It’s important to know that. And the passing process can be facilitated by some strategically made choices. In my case, those choices usually involve receding in some way. I am a Cancer, which means we are crabs who will retreat into our shells if circumstances require it. We hide, and we like it dammit!
So on Tuesday I had only a morning job at FIT and promptly left Manhattan right afterwards. No shopping, no lunch, no walking around, no museum visits. I just hightailed it back to Queens, fleeing the noise, the chaos, the throngs of people, and the infernal police/fire sirens of midtown. Sure I still moped when I got home but at least I was moping in peace, and in private.
In the early evening I stepped outside to get some air, looked up and noticed the moon – a white half pearl nestled in the blue sky, underlined with a wisp of clouds. Pretty! So I went back inside, got my camera and took a picture with my Canon Powershot:
A short while later I checked on the moon again as the night started to fall. This time I had my good camera. The serious camera. My big Nikon. As I stood on the steps outside my kitchen door and prepped my settings for the picture, I suddenly felt warm, affectionate rubbing on my legs. It was my girl, the goddess, Jessie the cat, trying to divert my attention. And it worked. I knelt down and snapped her picture:
Yes, I’m wearing grey sweatpants, the official uniform of a depressed, leave-me-alone mood. Not very attractive or stylish. But at least we have beautiful Jessie. Here she’s thinking, “Can we go inside? I’m hungry. Open the door.”:
So because I have a Dr. Dolittle complex I spoke to Jessie and told her, “Just a minute, baby. Let me photograph the moon then we’ll give you food.” The clouds had long drifted away, the blue had gotten deeper, the moon was a lonely dot:
Jessie wouldn’t leave me alone for a minute. She kept purring and pacing, slinking, and rubbing all over me. This picture, well, just had to be posted 
“Come on, man, I’m hungry! Where’s the food?”.
I’m sure many of you know what it’s like to deal with a hungry cat. They are tenacious. But I just needed one last shot of the moon. Why? I mentioned earlier about my zodiac sign of Cancer and how we are prone to moodiness. Well, most astrological signs have a planet as a ruling force. Cancers don’t. We are ruled by the moon. The moody moon. We are moonchildren. No wonder I was so drawn to it at that moment.
No Ordinary Day
Is there such a thing as an “ordinary day”? People use that expression all the time, myself included. But as I grow fonder and fonder of the life I’ve made for myself, of the city that’s been my home for all my 43 years, and of the friends, colleagues, and acquaintances I’ve made along the way, I realize that “ordinary” is a term rarely applicable. Rather, it minimizes and cheapens, and deprives the much-maligned “daily life” of its subtle, unique soul.
Tuesday morning I modeled for a small life drawing class at the New York Film Academy. Never thought my art modeling career would bring me there but, alas, it did. And it was fun. Nothing ordinary about doing nude poses in the “Billy Wilder” room, which, by the way, is next door to the “Jonathan Demme” room. Sure, I did come within an inch of getting accidentally clocked in the head with a tripod on a mad dash for the ladies’ room. But hey, it’s always something, right? An easel in art school, a tripod in film school. In any case, concussion averted.
When that job ended at 12:00, I walked out of the film academy building, crossed the street, inhaled a deep breath of fresh air, and enjoyed a leisurely stroll through Union Square Park. It was a bright, sunny, buzzing New York afternoon. At the northwest corner of the park, I noticed the sitting area resplendent with bright green garden chairs and blue umbrellas. I found the crisp, clean colors and their chromatic effect quite pleasing. So I took a few pictures. This one is not an ordinary scene if you consider the colors, the perspective, the curving flowerbed border edging in the bottom right and the tilted birdhouse in the tree in the upper left:
So I made my way to my 2:00 job, but stopped first for a quick lunch at Loving Hut on Seventh Avenue. There, I had the best veggie burger ever, anywhere, in the annals of veggie burgerdom! It was perfect and delicious. So NOT ordinary. Yum
Less than hour later, I was posing for the students in Vincent Arcilesi‘s class on the 6th floor at FIT. During the fast pose warm ups, Vincent sat down to sketch the model along with the rest of the class, which he often does. I took an active standing pose and Vincent did what all good artists should do in that instance – captured the gesture. I was standing still of course, but the forward stepping movement and arm/leg extension is strong in Vincent’s quick sketch. Loose, spontaneous, a one-of-a-kind Arcilesi. Not ordinary at all.
Things are only ordinary if we, through own our jaded disinterest, choose to dismiss them as such. But for some of us, a life as a professional artist’s model, working in a big, lively city, where shapes, colors, sounds, encounters and experiences can be found literally everywhere around us, nothing should be regarded as “ordinary”. Every day is unique. Every day is a blessing to be valued and appreciated. Thank you for allowing me to share my “extraordinary” day with you
Fleur de Lis
Hello friends! Happy Sunday! And what a beautiful Sunday it is here in NYC. I hope this blog post finds you all well.
A few days ago I found a little time in my busy schedule to stop in to the Metropolitan Museum for a quick visit. It was a Saturday, which at the Met means crowds. Major crowds. But no amount of crowds could stop me from seeing and enjoying the newly renovated American Wing Galleries, something I’ve been looking forward to for months. A more extensive blog post will probably be forthcoming. Until then I thought I’d share this one lovely work that is on display in the collection. The artist is Robert Reid, an American Impressionist painter who was born in Stockbridge, Massachusetts and studied in Boston and then New York. As with most American artists of the 20th century, Reid’s bio invariably mentions places where I have also worked as an art model. He studied at the Art Students League and later became a member of the National Academy of Design. By the early part of the century, Reid was focused on mural projects which might explain my attraction to his style. I adore mural painting and large panel works. On my trip to Boston last December, I was in heaven while viewing Sargent’s murals at the Boston Public Library. What I should have done was also visit Reid’s Paul Revere mural at the State House. I think another trip to Boston is in order!
This enchanting painting by Reid is called Fleur de Lis, ca. 1885 – 1900. I think one of the reasons it struck me was the exquisite color (I love purple) and depiction of irises, and the realization that those flowers will soon be blooming with the coming of spring! Can’t wait! I took this photo and decided not to crop out the frame, but it enlarges beautifully with a couple of clicks:
I also recorded the wall text for this piece that might be of interest. From the Met curators, this painting “suggests an analogy between his female figure and the fragile irises that surround her . . . His combining of a high-keyed palette and expressive brushwork with allegorical references reflects American artists’ concurrent interest, during the 1890s, in Impressionism and the universal imagery associated with the mural movement.”
A nice collection of Reid’s work can be found at Wikimedia Commons.
“For Olivia, Love Auntie Claudie”
Remember when you were nine years old and your cool, awesome Aunt gave you a harmonica for Christmas? Well, my niece does. It happened yesterday at Grandma’s house:
She’s a Hajian through and through. Brava!
Watercolor in the Works
It’s just a late November tree on a street corner in Queens, NY, a few blocks from my house. Though it will be completely leafless imminently, it was still hanging on to its remaining leaves as of two days ago. I was on my way to work but had to stop and take of picture of it. My plan is to do a watercolor
I think what inspires me here is that even though the leaves are sparse, they are still gorgeous and vibrantly colored. That’s one of the many intriguing occurrences of autumn – trees entering a stage of winter slumber, but going out with dazzling brilliance right up until the very last minute, until the final leaf has fallen to the ground. Autumn is sometimes misconstrued as a time of shriveling and withering, but it’s not. The transition from autumn to winter is vigorous, active, and dynamic. Nothing moribund about it at all.
So here’s the deal; I have Alizarin Crimson, Permanent Rose, Cadmium Yellow, Sap Green, Yellow Ochre, Burnt Sienna, and a few others. What I’m not sure about is how to approach this. Should I sketch it first then do colored details, block it in, diagram it, or just wing it from the get-go and let loose and see what happens? I welcome all suggestions!
Sunday in the Park with John
Hellooo everyone!! Greetings and salutations! Before I get to Music Monday, I want to thank those of you who have already submitted your works to the Museworthy Art Show. They’re great! And it’s really exciting to see them in my email inbox To everyone else, you still have plenty of time to submit. The deadline in November 1st, so no worries.
This weekend here in NYC was – and still is! – the most magnificent October weekend on record. The weather has been positively sublime, with clear blue skies and unseasonably warm temperatures. Gorgeous, wonderful. I was on the Upper West Side all day yesterday doing various things, but my main destination was to Strawberry Fields in Central Park where the annual commemoration for John Lennon’s birthday (October 9th) was taking place. I’ve been attending this gathering for years and years. Musicians set up around the Imagine circle, play Beatles’ songs and lead the crowd in a sing-a-long. I managed to maneuver my way to an empty spot on a bench where I could stand up and take some pictures.
One of my favorite John Lennon post-Beatles songs, and one of the best for the Strawberry Fields sing-a-long, this is the excellent “Watching the Wheels”, digitally remastered. Great lyrics, great vocals by John. Enjoy
The Cloisters in Bloom
I just spent a lovely afternoon at The Cloisters with my good friend Fred Hatt. It was a great day of looking at art, taking pictures and enjoying the woodland sanctuary found in the northernmost section of Manhattan island.
For those of you who are gardeners, like me, you know how even the most well-tended plants become ratty and worn looking toward the end of the summer and lose some of their earlier vitality and vigor. Well the gardening team at the Cloisters must know all the horticultural secrets because their perennials, herbs, and flowering shrubs are still looking pretty damn good in mid-August.
If it’s any shade of purple, I will photograph it. My favorite color! Deep purple, light purple, lavender or violet, bring it on
I love these maidenhair ferns. They look wonderful in pots throughout the garden cafe:
This was my favorite plant of the day. It’s called Fuller’s Teasel. I actually like the thorny stems and prickly “flowers”. This plant is an unapologetic individualist. It knows who it is and proclaims it with confidence. Rock on Teasel!
By the way, I did take pictures of the medieval artwork at The Cloisters – yes, they have ART there too! – but those will come in future posts. Until then, this squirrel critter says, “Thank you for visiting Museworthy. Now give me a nut!”.
Somewhere in the Atlantic
Museworthy friends!!!! Hello my darlings! I have returned! And I miss Nantucket already 
Our family vacation was absolutely, positively wonderful. One of the best ever, and much needed by all of us.
I took pictures, pictures, and more pictures. So for those of you who enjoy looking at vacation photos, mine are posted on my Flickr. I still have a few more to upload but there’s plenty to see. An abundance of cool beach scenes.
This post title, by the way, is taken from a t-shirt I bought just before we boarded the ferry to come home. So many Nantucket tees to choose from, but I really liked the one that read “Somewhere in the Atlantic . . . Nantucket”, with a little map of the island. That’s exactly how it feels to be there. The islanders and the visitors wouldn’t want it any other way. There are whales, sharks, seals, lobsters, cormorants, and the big blue undulating Atlantic, and then – almost incidentally – an island in their midst called Nantucket
Here is a small slideshow that chronicles our first day. It’s called “Jeep Ride to Sconset Beach”. I’m not in any of these photos because I was behind the camera, so the main players are my brother Chris (handsome guy in the white shirt), my sister-in-law Gayle (great gal in purple shirt), my Mom (terrific woman in blue bathing suit, also known as “Grammy”), and the star of the show, my niece Olivia (adorable, cavorting 8 year-old who LOVES the camera). I would not fullscreen this, as the slide transitions become rough. So watch it here in the blog post. Images are cleaner. Or watch it on Flickr
I made two other slideshows: Biking and Beachcombing at the Jetties and Fun at the White Elephant
One of my favorite things to photograph is colorful beach umbrellas against the sky. Here’s one from beautiful Nantucket, “Umbrellas and Seagull”:
Birthday Girl
How did I get to be 43 years old? It seems like just yesterday I was wearing braces, learning long division, and harboring crushes on every cute boy in school
I was going to get all deep and introspective in this blog post. But I’ve had a hectic couple of days and it’s hot as hell from the summer heat wave, so my brain feels really fuzzy and mushy. Can’t contemplate deep thoughts right now. All I really want is a popsicle. Did I mention that it’s hot?? Very, very, hot? :guzzles a gallon of ice water:
For my birthday last year I posted a Courbet. This year I’m posting a classic figurative work from Public School 178 in Queens, NY, circa 1974:
I can assure you that the little girl in this photo never ever dreamed of becoming an artists’ model when she grew up. So what did she dream of becoming, way back then, in her little girl’s head? A veterinarian.
“Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself”
- George Bernard Shaw
Skeleton Crew
I was really enjoying Rob Zeller’s anatomy demo last night at the Teaching Studios of Art. I was enjoying it so much that I decided to capture the moment on camera. Okay, so I confess that I exerted very little effort and took the picture with one hand while lying down on the model’s platform because I was too lazy to get my ass up, walk to the other side of the room, take a nice photograph and document the lecture in a respectable way. Hey what do you want from me? I was on a break!
Yes those are my legs in the way. But it’s actually quite appropriate since the anatomical subject of the night was the sartorius muscle. Longest muscle in the body as it turns out. The sartorius runs across and then down the thigh, like a ribbon, and is responsible for lateral leg rotation, abduction, and knee flexion. If you move your leg in a certain way you can make it pop. But it’s not a muscle that is normally visible on the average person. I can get mine out if I stand, turn one foot out (which rotates the leg), lift the heel and lean into the leg with all my weight.
If you can see Rob behind the easel, you’ll notice that he is lifting his leg to demonstrate sartorius movement.
Rob incorporates books, his own anatomy drawings, the model, and the skeleton, in his lectures which are consistently informative, thorough, and really easy to absorb for a subject that can get confusing at times. I really liked when Rob explained how the sartorius got its name. The Latin sartor, means “tailor”, so the sartorius is sometimes called the “tailor’s muscle” because tailors used to sit in cross-legged positions on the floor to do their tailoring. And you can’t sit cross-legged without the sartorius muscle enabling that lateral rotation. Wikipedia has a few more theories on the origin of the name sartorius.
The sartorius travels an impressive anatomical journey in the human body. It originates in the anterior superior iliac spine (the iliac crest of the pelvis), descends down, while crossing over, the thigh, and then turns into a tendon that inserts at the tibia. Without the sartorius, you couldn’t bend your leg at the knee or laterally rotate your thigh at the hip. When men sit and cross their legs “the guy way” – with the foot of one leg resting on the knee of the other leg – they’re using the sartorius muscle for those movements. Not bad, fellas.
Then came my turn to assist Rob in his demo. Picture time was over. I put my camera away, stood up (finally!) and returned to my art modeling duties, which meant that THIS guy went on break. Ha!
Water’s Edge
Some visitors on the north shore of Queens this afternoon. It’s always nice when these swan pairs stop by
I love the reflections in this one:
My heart goes out to the people of Joplin, Missouri and all the surrounding areas that were ravaged by the tornadoes. I saw the pictures on TV and the devastation is absolutely unreal. Those folks are terribly traumatized and I feel for them. Between the missing loved ones and the loss of homes, property, I hope they find the strength to cope and recover from an ordeal of such magnitude. I had my own experience with a tornado last September, but it hardly compares to what’s happened in the American south and midwest in recent weeks.
Pictures Over Politics
With all the major events going on the world lately I have been tempted to address some of them here on the blog. I even started writing a couple of posts in which I discuss issues and express my opinion. But those posts remain as unpublished drafts. This isn’t a political blog and people don’t visit Museworthy for that stuff. I am very well aware of that. I also just assume that no one really cares what my political views are! I am absolutely certain no one is losing a wink of sleep thinking, “I wonder what Claudia’s position is on abortion?”. I just want everyone to understand that I care deeply about the world and I follow the news closely. So please know that I DO have opinions. Some fairly strong ones too. And they fall variously across the entire spectrum. I’m an “independent”, for lack of a better word.
However, I would like to get just one thing off my chest that has really, really started to irritate me the past few months. Folks, this liberal PC speech police thing has to stop. Seriously. It’s gotten completely out of hand. You can’t just carelessly hurl the words “bigot”, “hate”, and “ignorant” at people who merely disagree with you. That’s just nuts. If you’ve ever known a true BIGOT, as I have, you would know that to call someone that is an extremely serious assault on that person’s character if it’s not accurate. Liberals claim to stand up for “tolerance” but then engage in these fascist, name-calling tactics toward dissenting views. I’m sorry, but if you’re intellectually incapable of making the distinction between reasoned, thoughtful opinions that differ from yours, and “hate”, then you really need to work on your critical thinking skills instead of reflexively frothing at the mouth like a paranoid bully whenever you hear something that doesn’t fall in line with your rigid agenda. I am in no way denying the existence of real hate and bigotry in the world. I’m merely saying that we should recognize it where it truly exists, not where we simply perceive it to exist as dictated by our politics and visceral responses.
I just can’t handle this sanctimonious, self-righteous liberal attitude anymore, especially since I have considered myself a liberal on several issues. But these days, every time I talk to a liberal, listen to a liberal commentator on TV, or read a blog or column written by a liberal journalist, I feel like I’m being lectured, or scolded, or arrogantly told that I need to “get educated”. To that I say: kindly go fuck yourself. I’m plenty educated, thank you very much. Stop trying to “correct” me or intimidate me or accuse me of being “phobic” or “ignorant”. I am NOT ignorant. That is a really uncalled for personal insult. And the only “phobia” I have is of small, confined, enclosed spaces. That gives me the creeps 
Ok, I’m done. Rant over. Let’s move on to the usual Museworthy business of art and pretty pictures. Just a few of my Metropolitan Museum photos that I’ve been meaning to post. Here are two of the Greek and Roman Gallery fountain with shiny, shimmery coins. I wonder if any of those wishes came true?
A fountain of a different sort, this is The Nymph of Danpierre, by Louis-Claude Vasse. Marble, dated 1763:
Visitors to the Met, in their excitement to see the famous paintings and sculpture, tend to blow off the artifacts and pottery displays. Or just give them a cursory look. But this plate really caught my eye. The colors and the detail of the battle scene are very impressive:
Yes I did take this picture of this sculpture at this angle on purpose 
Nothing like a guy with a nice ass, even if he is made of stone:
And finally, one of my favorite spots in the Met to photograph, the staircase which leads down to main lobby:
Springtime in the City
Happy Friday everyone! Hope you all had a good week. I’ve been in the art rooms of FIT and the Teaching Studios being the dutiful model. It’s good. Work is a good thing. I even had enough time before my FIT class today to take some pictures of Macy’s annual spring Flower Show, a tradition that dates back to the 1940s. My grandmother loved the Flower Show. My Mom would take her every year. Grandma isn’t with us anymore but the flowers at Macy’s, like in nature, come back every year. It’s a gorgeous polychromatic spectacle – colors bursting everywhere, up in the rafters, along display cabinets, and down to the aisles, with wonderful aromas permeating the air.
See all my photos of the Flower Show at my Flickr page. Hope you enjoy them
Prince and the Birds
I came home from work this afternoon to find that a huge flock of migratory blackbirds had invaded my property. What a commotion. They were squawking and yapping, flying and flitting, poking and scavenging, strutting on the ground and perching up in the treetops, flaunting their shiny black feathers, and effectively taking over my garden like a gang of pillagers and plunderers. It seemed like there were hundreds of them. They were everywhere! It was something out of a Hitchcock movie. Naturally I wanted to take a picture of the noisy, marauding band of birds. But the second I opened the window they took off – every last one of them, in unison, flying away in the direction of the park. Boo hoo 
Disappointed, I started to put the lens cap on my camera when I noticed my cat Prince nestled in his favorite spot by the flowerpots. He’s really camouflaged in that corner, and he must have been there the whole time during the bird flock craziness. “Prince! I see you there, baby!” Off came the lens cap. I figured if I couldn’t get the picture of the birds I could at least take pictures of another living creature who was a regular garden resident. But I don’t think Prince was in the mood for a photo session. I can read this cat’s mind. So here are his thoughts accompanied by my pictures:
“I’m trying to chill out here. First those crazy birds were making all kinds of racket, and now you’re pointing a camera at me from the house. Can I be left alone please?”
“Oh, so now you’ve moved over to the bedroom window, is that it? Trying to get closer and disturb my quiet time even more. Can’t I get a moment’s peace?”
“I’m not liking this one bit. You’re literally hanging out the window taking pictures of me! Not cool. Not cool at all.”
“I’m stretching my legs and then I’m outta here. Fuck you.”
