The "King of Kitsch"

Rudy Carrera posted an obituary to Vladimir Tretchikoff (known as the "king of kitsch") who died on August 26th in South Africa at the age of 92. This picture, The Chinese Girl, sold more than a half a million copies.

I grew up seeing Tretchikoff reproductions in every house in South Africa. He was regarded (by ordinary folk - not art snobs) as South Africa's premier artist. As a child, I loved his paintings but, once I went to college and was educated above my parents, I began to sneer at him as my snobbish college peers did. As I said to Rudy, I think Tretchikoff formed my idea of "art" and is probably the reason that I love "chocolate box art" to this day.

From BBC News:

Born in Petropavlovsk in Kazakhstan - at the time part of Russia - Tretchikoff lived through the Russian revolution and survived a spell in a prison camp in Indonesia during the Second World War.

Self-taught, the artist - who painted with oils and watercolours - moved to South Africa in 1946 and four years later painted The Chinese Girl, also known as The Green Lady.

The Chinese Girl is believed to have sold more prints than either Leonardo da Vinci's famous masterpiece, the Mona Lisa, or Vincent van Gogh's Sunflowers.

It became evocative of UK popular culture in the 1960s and featured in the 1966 Michael Caine film Alfie.

"I always called it my father's Mona Lisa," Tretchikoff's daughter Mimi Mercorio told the AP news agency.

"I never thought at the time it would become so famous, but it seemed to catch the public eye and they loved it."

But Tretchikoff had a number of critics in the art world, who dismissed his work as "art for those who hate art."

His popularity also led to him being called the "king of kitsch" - although he hated this and insisted he was a serious artist.

Wayne Hemingway, author of the book Just Above The Mantelpiece - which is a defence of popular art - said Tretchikoff "achieved everything that Andy Warhol stated he wanted to do but could never achieve because of his coolness".

From Wikipedia:

Vladimir Tretchikoff (born 13 December 1913 in Petropavlovsk, Kazakhstan; died 26 August 2006 in Cape Town, South Africa) was one of the most commercially successful artists of all time.

Tretchikoff was a self-taught artist who painted super realistic figures, portraits, still life and animals. He worked in oil, watercolour, ink, charcoal and pencil but is best known for the reproductions of his work that have been sold worldwide over the years. The first series of very high quality reproductions were done by the Repro House Frost & Reed in London and was sold many a time in Lingerie Departments of Departmental Stores. The reproductions were so popular that it was said once that, Tretchikoff was second only to Picasso in his popularity.

His work was so commercially successful, particularly in the 1960s and 1970s, that it provoked extreme reactions. Many continue to see Tretchikoff's work as the epitome of kitsch. His famous subject "Chinese Girl", featuring an eastern model viewed through a blue filter is the best selling print of all time. It was featured everywhere from the original set of Alfie to an episode of Doctor Who.

Tretchikoff fled with his family to Manchuria after the 1917 Russian revolution. They also lived in Shanghai and later in Singapore.

His wife Natalie and daughter Mimi were evacuated from Singapore to Cape Town, South Africa in 1941 ahead of the advancing Japanese army. Not knowing the whereabouts of his family, he spent World War II in occupied Jakarta, where he met Leonora Schmidt-Salomonson (Lenka) who became his lover and one of his most famous models.

In 1946, he was reunited with his family in South Africa, where he resided for the rest of his life.

Although Tretchikoff was seen as one of South Africa's most prominent living artists, he never gained the recognition that he deserved as a master of realism. He was never taken seriously by art critics in South Africa, as, because of the reproductions done of his work, he was seen as too much of a commercial artist and it is only lately that his work has become more and more sought after and has escalated in price at auction houses such as Sotheby's South Africa.

The South African National Gallery never bothered to acquire an original Tretchikoff because they did not "really regard Tretchikoff as a South African artist".

This painting, The Xhosa Woman, was my mother's favorite Tretchikoff.

Sunday slide-show: Robin's Wood

I was just about to do a post on roses. I've never grown roses before but I inherited a dozen or so when I bought this place and have grown fond of them. Maybe I'll post the rose pics next week but right now Chas just handed me his portable chip with two files of pics on them and they are far more interesting and beautiful than my rose pics. Here are just a few of them. No poem today as some pictures are worth more than a thousand words. (These are all big enough to be worth clicking on to enlarge if they catch your fancy.)

The first 7 pics are all of the crocosmia (also known as montbretia.) Chas took dozens of pics of them. I understand why he did; they are stunning. I enjoy sitting in my rocking chair on the front verandah looking at them. The hummingbirds also love them and you may even be able to see the blurred wings of a couple buzzing around the blossoms.

























































































The hummingbirds are very bold and were undeterred when Andy climbed onto the roof to fix the gutters round the verandah. Sometimes three or four hummingbirds have battles over who is going to drink from the feeder first. These are pics of Busby Berkeley the oldest and most dominant of the Allen's hummingbirds.




















































The next few pics tell the saga of Aflac, the mallard. Aflac was the lone survivor of a slaughter on the highway. Chas and Andy rescued him after his mother and siblings had been squashed by a Volvo (yes it had "Kerry/Edwards" and "Save the Spotted Owl" bumper stickers.) You are not allowed to keep wild fowl so we had to release it into the wild after raising it for the past ten weeks. Here is Chas saying goodbye to Aflac before letting him go in the local lake near the other bachelor mallards.








































Meanwhile back at the ranch we seperated the 25 cockerels from the rest of the chickens and put them in the nursery part of the chicken coop and left the lid open so they could go play in the traffic like all good teenagers do. Yep, they all look like dad, Bertie Wooster. Because we are going to eat them, I haven't given them real names. For now they are Bertie Junior, Bertie the Third - etc all the way up to Bertie the Twenty-third. I have no idea which Bertie I am holding.




















































Eventhough Turandot (the red cochin in the top pic) gave birth to all the bantams, they adore Maria Callas, the singing black chicken, who seems to be looking at the two bantams on her left fondly or maybe she was being presciently nostalgic because those two were injured in a chicken feud the next day and had to be euthanized.

Here is Andy "dressing" one of the euthanized bantams while the second dangles naked in the background. Next is Herbie jealously guarding a chicken foot. Dogs love chicken feet almost as much as the Chinese do - God alone knows why; they're tough and tasteless - the chickens I mean; not the Chinese. The dogs ate the rest of the deceased fowl for dinner that night.








































We took care of our neighbors' farm last week and brought their goats down to our farm to visit and eat blackberries. Here Sombrieta is complaining to me that her teets are full and she needs milking. And the last pic is of Sombrieta's daughter, Uni, about to give me a sloppy goat kiss.

My garden's got lots of weeds

Yesterday BB-Idaho commented on my "Life in the slow lane" post: "After admiring the locale, photos and lifestyle, your mortality issues pale: you ARE in the garden of Eden!"

No, BB, I don't live in the garden of Eden. Sure, I live in a beautiful garden but my garden also tends to have a lot of weeds which I have to constantly be pulling out and throwing away and really I was just joking about living to be 114. I've already been given more than I ever expected and am quite willing to die right now - oh, okay maybe I'd be just a little bit reluctant to let go of that last delicious breath.

I posted those heavenly pics because I've been having a hellish week at the trailer park that I own and operate. It was a way to cheer myself up and remind myself of the good things I have in my life. It was just an excuse to post some pretty pictures and dwell on the all the blessings that I have been given instead of the difficulties that I am facing right now.

This week I have been dealing with having to evict three tenants who turned out to be druggies. I'll tell you about that later when I can have a good laugh at it and write about it comically because it isn't over yet. First thing in the morning when I get to work, I have to hitch someone's trailer up to the truck and haul it out of the park.

Maybe I give the impression that I coast through life and all is hunky-dory all the time. Nope, it's a mix of good and bad and I don't expect it to be any other way. Oh, there was a time when I was a "flowerchild" that I thought life was meant to be all bliss all the time but that deluded fantasy lasted for only a few years in my late teens and early twenties. (One day I'll write my "confessions of a teenage flowerchild.")

But I soon learned that, although I could experience small hints of heavenly joy, life on earth was never all happiness. Neither was it all misery. Human life is just a mix of pleasure and pain. I also realized that I could not avoid pain and that I could not create my own happiness. Happiness just came by the grace of God usually when I least expected it.

I've never understood people who complain about "stress." Life can be very stressful. Trying to avoid stress is more stressful than simply accepting it as part and parcel of the human condition. I have never known anyone who has a perfect life.

I've known very rich people who were lonely and sad and I've known poor people (like my own mother) who were much loved and happy. I've had "perfect" jobs while being lonely and miserable at home. I've had "perfect" domestic bliss while being in hell at work. I've been in horrible situations when all of a sudden life just seemed wonderful and I've been in wonderful situations when I've been surprised to see an underlying horror.

I was nearly 30 or so when I finally gave up expecting my happiness to be something that was dependent on my circumstances in life. In fact I gave up expecting happiness. That's not to say that I gave up being cheerful. In fact I began to realize the importance of being cheerful when I gave up expecting happiness from my worldly circumstances. Being cheerful and having faith and hope is my way of opening myself up to the grace of God which is the true joy. Happiness is a gift that is given to me by God and the only effort I have to make is to be willing to accept it.

I'm not a Christian and I don't believe that every word in the Bible is God's word. (Just think of all the rules in Leviticus that most of us ignore. I don't eat pork but, sorry, there's no way I'm going to give up lobster.) However I do believe that many of the words in the Bible are God's words - words of encouragement and guidance.

Maybe they are just the words of people who were inspired and filled with wisdom. I don't know. All I know for sure is that humans are made in the image of God and therefore are not separate from our Creator - unless we chose to be. So of course humans can be conduits of God's infinite wisdom. To me, the truth is not that God exists but that ONLY god exists and we're part of Him and can experience Him even now in this vale of tears. Heaven, the Kingdom of God, is within us. Luke wrote that Jesus said, "Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you."

Happiness is not something that is dependent on our wordly circumstances. It is something that we are already born with, a gift from God that is built in and comes standard with the human soul. The soul's natural state is happiness, joy, bliss, contentment, gratitude - whatever you want to call it. Misery is something that we create for ourselves.

Meanwhile I'll live by these words of wisdom from the wisest words ever spoken, the Sermon on the Mount:

Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

And:

But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.

My wealth doesn't make me happy or give me peace of mind. My happiness and peace of mind makes me wealthy. But I'm not complaining that I have this beautiful garden to come home to after another difficult day at the trailer park - even if it is full of weeds.

Naked ladies and hippie ass trims

Amaryllis is another of those flowers which are misnamed. What we know as amaryllis (or Dutch amaryllis) are actually hippeastrums (pronounced hippie ass trims.) The original hippeastrums, which came from Central and South America, were hybridized and marketed as "amaryllis." I grew some hippeastrums in San Francisco but did not bring the bulbs to Oregon with me becasue they do not withstand frosts. They are commony sold as potted plants.

The real amaryllis is a lily, amaryllis belladonna, from South Africa. They are commonly known as "naked ladies" because, by the time they bloom in August, all the leaves have died and the flower stems rise straight from the ground. They are not a suitable plants for bedding or a formal garden because, when the leaves start dying in early summer, they look messy. I planted all of my amaryllis bulbs that I brought from California informally along the edge of the forest where they have naturalized.

They start putting out leaves in winter and I have far fewer this year because we had several late frosts in Spring. They are always pink - ranging from pale almost white through darker shades of rose. They have a strong sweet perfume somewhat reminiscent of the bubble-gum I used to know as a kid. One whiff and I am transported back to the care-free days of my childhood.

Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?

And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:

And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?

Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?

(For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.

But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.

Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

From the Sermon on the Mount (King James Version.)

The first six pics are of hippeastrums which have been hybridized into all sorts of colors ranging from white through pink and orange to red. The rest of the pics are of the true amaryllis or naked lady. The last pic is of Chas' hand holding the lilies so I could photograph them. You can see how large the blooms are compared with his hand.

Some in Hollywood get it

Updated - larger pic of ad.

I've seen this on a few other blogs today:

Douglas, Willis and Kidman Unite Against Terrorism

By WENN| Thursday, August 17, 2006

HOLLYWOOD - Hollywood stars Michael Douglas, Bruce Willis, Ridley Scott and Nicole Kidman have united in the fight against terrorism, after taking out a full-page advertisement in the Los Angeles Times condemning violent extremists.

The foursome's signatures appear today alongside fellow actors and directors Danny DeVito, Dennis Hopper, Sylvester Stallone, Don Johnson, James Woods, Tony Scott, Michael Mann, Richard Donner and Sam Raimi, among others.

The ad reads, "We the undersigned are pained and devastated by the civilian casualties in Israel and Lebanon caused by terrorist actions initiated by terrorist organizations such as Hezbollah and Hamas.

"If we do not succeed in stopping terrorism around the world, chaos will rule and innocent people will continue to die. We need to support democratic societies and stop terrorism at all costs."

That's nice. Maybe I don't have to boycott ALL hollywood stars. Well, maybe just William Hurt whose name appears last on the list. I'm glad to hear that he is not a total moonbat but he has got to be the most boring actor ever - about as lively and exciting as a baseball-bat lying discarded under the bleachers.

I pinched the pic of the ad below from Right Wing Rebel. I'm posting it so I know where it is so I can consult it when deciding what movies to see.

The Druze

Yesterday morning at breakfast Chas, Andy and I were talking about Lebanon and I mentioned the Druze. They both knew that I'd been checking out the net a couple of weeks ago to see what I could find out about the Druze because I didn't have a clue who they were despite the fact that my eldest step-sister is married to a Lebanese Christian.

"So," said Andy; "who are the Druze?"

"I've got a few notes - enough to educate myself but I'll dig them up and post them on my blog so you can see."

Here's what I found out:

The Druze live primarily in Lebanon, but also have smaller communities in Israel, Syria, and Jordan. They mostly live in small villages scattered throughout the Chouf Mountains, which are part of the range known as Mount Lebanon or, in Syria, as Jabal al-Duruz (Mount of the Druzes.) They make up about 7% of the Lebanese population - about 300,000. There are 100,000 Druze in Israel and about 20,000 Druze live in the United States.

The Druze are a distinct religious community - an offshoot of Islam which was formed in the 11th century. The original Druze were also influenced by other religions and philosophies, including Christianty, Gnosticism and classical Greek philosophy. The Druze consider themselves a "reformed" Islamic sect but they are not considered Muslims by most Muslims in the Levant.

The Druze learned early on to keep their religious beliefs secret because of being regarded as pariahs by other Muslims. If they lived in a predominatly Muslim area, they went to the local mosque and behaved like Muslims. If they lived among Jews, they behaved like Jews. The Druze are cautious and wary because they were violently persecuted for centuries by other Muslims.

Unlike the "unreformed" Muslims, the Druze do not use the Koran as part of their religion and they do not practice polygamy. Not only do they not expect others to islam (submit) to their religion - as "unreformed" Muslims do - but they do not even accept converts.

I can't remember where I got this but I didn't write it:

The Druze played a major role in the Lebanese Civil War (1975–1990). They organized a militia (one of the strongest militias in the War) under the leadership of Walid Jumblatt, (son of Kamal Jumblatt), in opposition to the Maronite Christian Phalangist militia of Bachir Gemayel in the Mount Lebanon area (especially the Chouf) where the Druze militia were successful in winning the war. A peace treaty was then signed between the Druze and Maronite leaders which has enabled them to live peacefully together and later led to them becoming allies.

Israeli Druze also serve in the Israeli army, voluntarily since 1948, and — at the community's request — compulsorily since 1956. Their privileges and responsibilites are the same as Israeli Jews; thus, all Druze are drafted, but exemptions are given for religious students and for various other reasons.

In April 2006, the spiritual leader of the Druze community in Israel, Shaykh Mowafak Tarif, signed a declaration calling on all non-Jews in Israel to observe the Seven Noahide Laws as laid down in the Bible and expounded upon in Jewish tradition. The mayor of the Galilean and the city of Shfaram also signed the document [citation needed]. The declaration includes the commitment to make a "...better humane world based on the Seven Noahide Commandments and the values they represent commanded by the Creator to all mankind through Moses on Mount Sinai."

Radio announcer Casey Kasem was born Kamal Amin Kasem to Lebanese Druze immigrants to the USA.

I haven't checked out all of this site because I just found it: The Druze.

Pictures from top to bottom:

Casey Kasem.

Walid Jumblatt, the Druze leader who was known as "Warlord" Jumblatt during the Lebanese civil war and is now a member of the Lebanese parliament.

Jumblatt and the son of Prime Minister Rafic Hariri (who was probably assassinated by the Syrians.) Hariri Junior today denounced the Israelis out of either political opportunistism or fear of the Hizballah. No wonder Jumblatt doesn't look too happy.

The last two pics are of Mount Lebanon and the Bechaa Valley (in summer and winter) where most of the Druze live . Lebanon is a lot like southern California: same latitude; similar climate and geography - mountains close to the coast.

A confession

I have now given 5,793 reasons why I left San Francisco but it all boils down to just one reason really - I could no longer look 90% of the people in the face. I just could not stand them. How can you look into the faces (without spitting at them) of people who hate America as much as they do?

I realized that I really hated liberals (and I don't often hate anyone) when some commie creep came into my restaurant and said to me something like: "Chimpy McBushitler doesn't stand a chance of being re-elected. The more soldiers get killed in Iraq, the better. Every body-bag means a few thousand fewer votes for Dubya."

One commie creep told me the lie that our soldiers were desserting in huge numbers soon after the invasion of Iraq. The lies and the concommitent mental illness that results from disrespect for the truth was palpable in SF. It literally made me sick. I had to get out of that hell-hole or die of a broken heart when I saw how ugly, dishonest and twisted liberals could be. I said to Chas and Andy the other night that it was no wonder that I felt wounded, hurt and constantly insulted in San Francisco.

(Sure, you can inure yourself to insults - God knows my skin is thick enough from scar-tissue - but it damages your soul to deliberately become cold and hard. One thing that I realized about the gays in SF was that they had had their hearts broken - through their own promiscuity and stupidity - so many times that they had hardened themselves and ended up becoming zombies - living dead.)

It was one thing to hold my nose in the restaurant and bite my tongue - that's business - but it was another thing to come face to face with these people outside of business and have to make small talk. Needless to say, I ended up feeling dirty and dishonest because I would either pretend that I had not seen them or, if I could not avoid them, grin and bare it.

It got to the point where I was so filled with anger at 90% of the people in SF (yep, it's about 90% commie and/or Chinese immigrants who couldn't care less as long as they made a fast buck) that it was killing me. I often wondered if I was the only American who longed for a civil war so that I could kill some commies. Who needs to live like that?

Back here in the good old USA, I seldom feel like that. What few liberals there are here, are in the minority and are not arrogant dictatorial people and I try not to expose myself to liberal insanity on the internet or the MSM. Oh, I read a few of my conservative friends' reactions to liberal lies and ocassionally see stuff like Zombie's photo essays of SF and get a few pangs of anger but, on the whole nowadays, I follow my mother's philosophy, "Ignore the ugliness and evil in the world and concentrate on the beauty and goodness."

Sure, every now and then, something on the net or TV or in the newspapers will trigger off my old anger at liberals and, after a few glasses of wine at dinner, I'll have a little "Mel Gibson fit" and wish for a civil war so I can kill a few commies but I prefer pottering around my farm and hanging with my chickens. Yes, chickens are vicious to each other and sometimes even cannibals but they are a lot more honest than liberals.

But, I will confess that, if push comes to shove, I will gladly shoot a few commies with less concern than I chop off a chicken's head. See that creep with the "Kike" placard below - I wouldn't even need a gun to kill that asshole. I'd gladly do it with my bare hands.

Sunday poem and pictures

"Going, Going"

by Philip Larkin

... It seems, just now,
To be happening so very fast;
Despite all the land left free
For the first time I feel somehow
That it isn't going to last,

That before I snuff it, the whole
Boiling will be bricked in
Except for the tourist parts —
First slum of Europe: a role
It won't be hard to win,
With a cast of crooks and tarts.

And that will be England gone,
The shadows, the meadows, the lanes,
The guildhalls, the carved choirs.
There'll be books; it will linger on
In galleries; but all that remains
For us will be concrete and tyres.

Most things are never meant.
This won't be, most likely; but greeds
And garbage are too thick-strewn
To be swept up now, or invent
Excuses that make them all needs.
I just think it will happen, soon.

Last week I wrote about the county Garden Club tour that we went on. I didn't have any pics of it so I posted some generic garden pics. I finally got the pics that Chas took of the garden tour and here ten of the hundreds that he took. From top to bottom: a vegetable garden with blue delphiniums mixed in; Andy and I headed over to check out the owner's new chicken-coop; a dam with dahlias in the foreground; a wonderful greenhouse with a grapevine and a table for eight; a sign that says it all for me; blue hydrangeas on the banks of the creek which ran through this garden; a potting shed made to look like a country schoolhouse; that's a kiwi-fruit vine on the side of the shed; part of the six acres of manicured lawns of this garden; same garden - you can see that it is carved out of the surrounding forest.


























































































































































The next six pics are of Robin's Wood which looks pretty ratty compared with the other gardens: first the South African "Lucifer" crocosmias; this is what I see from one of my bedroom window which is to the left of the flag - the hole on the left of the crocosmias will eventually be a pond; a close-up of the crocosmias; what's left of the lawn which we do not water in summer so it turns brown and the dandelions take over - way in the back you can see a splash of red which is the crocosmias; one of Andy's orchids - a Queen of the Night cactus orchid carefully posed in front of the crocosmias; the orchid on a picnic table - the flower is huge but sadly only lasts for 24 hours.