Miss O’Hara on Hollywood

While the sight of disgraced, repulsive movie mogul Harvey Weinstein doing the ‘perp walk’ into a lower Manhattan police precinct was satisfying to some degree, many of us – and by ‘us’ I mean women – can’t quite bring ourselves to revel triumphantly over the recent developments. Oh sure we felt a heady dose of schadenfreude in seeing that prick in handcuffs. But powerful men are, and always will be, powerful men. They can afford expensive lawyers, have stooges working in pr and the media, and employ mafia-like tactics to shield themselves from accountability. This will never change. And if one douchebag falls, another one will rise and take his place. Maybe I’m just cynical. I don’t know. But I would suggest caution in labelling this moment in time as a watershed. I have a reason for this thinking but don’t want to go on a diatribe here.

Instead, I’d like to share this newspaper clipping of screen legend Maureen O’Hara from 1945 about her experiences with the men in Hollywood. This is 73 years ago, folks.

With nothing but respect for the male readers of this blog, because you guys are among the good ones and some of you are my real life friends and colleagues, I still need to emphasize what O’Hara is getting at here; that a great many men determine a woman’s worth based on her ‘fuckability’ and nothing else. Or her willingness to do it, and just give in to sexual demands. In the words of Gavin de Becker, author of The Gift of Fear“When a man says no it’s the end of the discussion. When a woman says no it’s the beginning of a negotiation”. Saying no to a man is like a class A felony in these jerks’ minds. Something unacceptable and almost incomprehensible. Because if a woman won’t pleasure them and satisfy their desires, then what’s the point of her existence??? She’s not even “a woman” at all, as O’Hara describes the attitude.

She sure looks like a woman to me. The Irish-born woman who starred in “How Green Was My Valley”, “Miracle on 34th Street”, and “The Quiet Man”.

Alphabet City with Fred

Today is the birthday of my very dear friend Fred Hatt. Happy Birthday Fred!!!! 🙂 Fred and I are both celebrating significant birthdays this year: 60 for him, 50 for me (July). So to commemorate our milestone decades we plan to prolong the party through the summer and deal with aging in the best possible way; by having fun, appreciating each other, and enjoying the big city we both call home.

Last Thursday night Fred and I attended an event in the East Village; “I Ching Alchemy” sculptures and video projection show by our mutual friend Lili White. It was held outdoors in Le Petit Versailles Garden between Avenue A and B – the section of downtown Manhattan known as ‘Alphabet City’. Nobody is better at converting dumpy urban lots into community gardens than East Villagers. They have a gift for it. The space of the Petit Versailles garden was, decades ago, an auto chop shop. Now it’s flower beds, trees, little rock-lined paths, pottery shards, empty picture frames, glass balls, mirrors, ribbons, strings of skull head lights, Tibetan figurines, loose tiles, and any quirky found object that occupies a spot. A busted ceramic urn? Stick it in there. It’s a garden folks, East Village style. The residents down there are fiercely civic-minded, and they will take care of things themselves if the city ignores them. Actually, they prefer it that way. And if raising rents force some thrift shop or vinyl record store out of business they have a collective meltdown 😆

Hanging out with Fred means seeing him suddenly whip out his camera to snap a photo. Nothing escapes this man’s eye! He spotted the shadow shapes that formed on the brick face of the building, just around dusk. With the warm glow of the light strings it created an interesting vision. So I took a photo myself:

The 1958 baby and the 1968 baby 🙂 Fred and I, selfie in the garden. My brilliant, beautiful best buddy whose friendship I value beyond words. The very first friend I made as an artist’s model.

Drawing of me by Fred from 2015. Created at Figureworks Gallery in Brooklyn:

It’s not a Music Monday but we’ll have a Music Tuesday instead! As Lili’s video installation projected onto the side of the building, a fantastic old song accompanied her images. A great choice that truly reflected the spirit of the evening. Please enjoy “Wake Up Everybody” by Harold Melvin and The Blue Notes, a classic R&B song from 1975. Buoyant, catchy, uplifting, meaningful. So good. You’ll be up and dancing by the end. 🙂

A Visit to the Vet in Four Acts

Jessie the cat would like to share this photo essay with you 😆

“I don’t need a check-up. I feel fine. And I hate this stupid carrier.”

“Ugh. One of those yappy dogs is in the waiting room. If he comes near me I’m prepared to smack his snout.”

“They’re gonna take my temperature. And look at my teeth. I don’t need this.”

“Mommy? Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Please stop bringing me here, ok?”

Paintings and Parties

Hellooooo Museworthy!! The muse is here. You didn’t think I forgot about the blog, did you? Never! Still I apologize for the sparse postings. April is a very busy art modeling month so I’ve just been doing that, and paying taxes, and trying to attend yoga class when I can. One more hectic week coming up and then my schedule lightens up a bit and I can get back to more leisurely things like writing, gardening, and reading.

I’ve spent a good amount of time lately at the New York Academy of Art, the city’s foremost graduate school and MFA program. Last month I had the pleasure of modeling for a two-day Master Class taught by Steven Assael, during which he carried out one of his renowned painting demos. As I sat for the portrait, I observed as the students were quietly transfixed on Steven’s work. Not surprising, of course, as he is one of the most highly esteemed representational artists of his generation. And a really nice guy too. Great working with him.

In addition to master classes, thesis critiques, special lectures, and student open studio nights, the Academy was also gearing up for the Tribeca Ball, the school’s annual fundraiser where art world insiders, celebrities, and other glitterati come to mingle and get their pictures taken. I did not attend the Tribeca Ball (I’m not a glitterati!) but I did take pictures of the gallery while it was being prepared for the big night. This year’s theme was “Poetic Astronomy”, and the decor had an appropriately celestial feeling.

From the Academy’s Instagram page, some photos of the models who worked that night and the artists sketching:

I did attend a party that was less glamorous but just as much fun. A birthday party for my sister-in-law Gayle, just two weeks after she had hip replacement surgery! If you can imagine a 59 year old woman in a black evening dress playing hostess while limping around with a cane, that’s Gayle 🙂 Here’s a photo of me at the party with Gayle’s daughter, my lovely and hilarious niece Olivia.

Hope you’re all well, my friends. I’ll see you back here very soon 🙂

Stations of the Cross

Easter Sunday is almost here. It is the culmination of Holy Week for Christians and the day of the year that fills church pews, brings out bonnets and chocolate bunnies and colorful spring flowers, organizes Easter egg hunts and feasts of food. But it is Good Friday which distinguishes itself in liturgy and worship. Good Friday is heavy. It’s solemn and mournful. In most Christian denominations, Good Friday services mean clergy and acolytes dressed in solid black vestments, plain wooden crosses, bare bones altars stripped of adornments, no uttered Hallelujahs or friendly glad-handing. Many people attend church to experience a day of joyful worship. Good Friday is not that day.

I’m aware that readers of this blog comprise various religious beliefs and lack of religious beliefs entirely. It’s all good. I would point out, however, that Good Friday presents timeless subjects that any thoughtful person might contemplate in their moments of deep reflection, awareness, and questioning; the execution of an innocent man, the corruption of political and religious authorities, the menace of a raging, bloodthirsty mob.

Good Friday service at my church, with our priest Father Laurence Byrne:

An integral part of Good Friday services is Stations of the Cross, in which worshippers follow Jesus’ harrowing path from his death decree ordered by Pontius Pilate, to his crucifixion, to his burial, and stop for prayer at each point. Churches display plaques, relief sculptures, paintings, crosses, or any artwork to mark each station. At my church, All Saints Episcopal Church in Queens, NY, our stations are marked by framed drawings created by our church’s children over the years. And they are superb. I thought I’d share some of them here for my Easter blog post. Sometimes I feel like I admire children’s artwork more than any Rembrandt or Degas.

I offer my warmest wishes for a blessed Easter, blessed Passover, and restorative spring season! May you all rejoice in new life, new birth, grace, and salvation.

Love one another …

Always,
Claudia

Facial Nonrecognition

Remember the days before apps? How did we amuse ourselves? How did we occupy our free time? How? How, dammit! 😆 The apps keep on coming. Perhaps we should amend Benjamin Franklin’s famous aphorism about the only certainties in life to be “death, taxes, and apps”.

Recently, a new feature on the Google Arts and Culture phone app has gone viral. I noticed it when I saw some friends posting about it on social media. It’s a selfie app that uses facial recognition to match your picture with your doppelgänger from a work of art. In some postings I saw, people added incredulous comments to their results like, “Huh?” and “Seriously?” with a string of laughing emojis. Let’s just say that some of the matches seemed a bit off.

So naturally I couldn’t resist trying the damn thing myself. There’s really nothing to it. You just take a terrible selfie with the app and swipe to see the results. Here’s what I got, my dear readers. Decide for yourselves:

Well …. I don’t know what to say. I like the portraits on their own, but as ‘matches’? Maybe the Zabaleta came up because of the eyes and eyebrows? But Paolini’s ‘Fortune Teller’? Not seeing it at all. I had anticipated a cubist Picasso with giant eyes and distorted features. Then again, my selfie looks like shit so I suppose should just be happy with anything halfway decent. Sorry Pablo. Maybe next time 😉

But this selfie app experiment did get me thinking about ‘likenesses’. I’ve been around the topic a great deal in my 13 years of art modeling. Capturing a likeness of model is a challenging task to be sure. I have observed that some artists who make painstaking, methodical efforts to capture a likeness often miss the mark somehow, while some loose, freely executed works manage to catch it. I tend to believe that the overall ‘look’ of a person matters more than particular details; their ‘mien’, if you will. And abstraction can absolutely achieve it when done well. I’ve recognized myself instantly in some artists’ works not because they were perfectly representational, but because they communicated my presence and my look, just like every model has their own look, their own movement, their own gestural presence, their own attitudinal bearing. The Google Arts and Culture selfie app and its algorithmic calculations would recognize none of those things, because those things are perceived solely through life. We’re called ‘life models’ for a reason.

As for selfies, I blogged about them back in 2015 and we had a lot of fun delving into the topic. If anyone would like to revisit that post, it’s here –> Know Thyselfie

Olivia Paris Music 🎵

Dietrich Bonhoeffer said that “music … will help dissolve your perplexities .. and in time of care and sorrow, will keep a fountain of joy alive in you.” For the past few Decembers on this blog I’ve published a post on Christmas music. We had a lot of fun with last year’s post sharing favorites and some lesser known recordings. This year, my holiday Music Monday post is far more meaningful than the previous ones, and I’m thrilled to share it with all of you.

My 15 year old niece Olivia has been writing and recording her own music. That’s right. She’s a fledgling songwriter. To her family and friends it comes as no surprise, as Olivia has been a fine musician and marvelous singer ever since she was a little girl. Her innate talent was already on full display at her 5th grade talent show. But Olivia is a teenager now, and a budding young woman, which means she has things to say. And when women have things to say through music, the world, rightly, listens.

I could go on and on about my darling niece; her wicked sense of humor, her kindness and honesty, her intrinsic understanding of truth and authenticity. A born-and-bred city girl, she is worldly beyond her years, but valiantly resists the cynicism that afflicts much of her generation. With our family struggling through some very strained times, Olivia’s spirit and her music have kept alive that ‘fountain of joy’ that Bonhoeffer spoke of.

This is Olivia’s holiday single, Hold You Close, just released today! With her father producing this and all her tracks, Olivia’s musical future is full of wondrous possibilities. She is on Instagram at @oliviaparismusic and on Apple Music. I’m so proud of you sweetheart! 🙂 🙂