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Tom Selleck stars as Phrixus in ‘The Origin of Aries’

By Elevenses, Origin of Aries, Origin of Starsigns, Talking art

This week’s blog is all about the origin of Aries, the Ram, which is the first sign of the zodiac.

The pretty grim tale of the origin of Aries goes back, naturally, to Greek mythology and the ram that got separated from its golden fleece (hello, Jason!) to become a constellation.

It’s a tale of jealousy and resentment and frankly some extremely bad parenting on the part of King Athamus and his wife Ino. Here they are, erm, playing with their children. Or not so much!

Athamas and Ino killing their children

Gaetano Gandolfi, Athamas Killing Ino’s Son, 1801, Villa Molinari Pradelli, Marano, Italy

Legend has it that when King Athamus took a second wife, Ino she was extremely jealous of his existing children, especially his son, Phrixus.

So instead of conspiring to send him away to boarding school or similar, she set about ensuring that the corn crop would fail. WHY? Because she knew that the failure of the crop would guarantee that her husband called on the Oracle for advice, and wily Ino (or I should say Ino the completely immoral psychopath?!)  had somehow managed to convince the Oracle (how? blackmail? bribery?) to decree that the only way for the King to save his people from starvation was to sacrifice his son Phrixus. Guess what? He agreed!

This isn’t actually Phrixus in this image. If it were, there would be a magnificent ram with a golden fleece entering the scene to carry him off. His real mother, Nephele, prayed with such force for him to be saved that at the last minute Zeus intervened and the boy, along with his sister Helle, were scooped up by the ram and spirited away.

Here they are in this ancient Roman fresco from Pompeii, not looking terribly childlike. As you can see, however, Helle isn’t quite on the ram. Is she about to be pulled to safety by Phrixus? No! Unfortunately, as the ram crossed the straits between Europe and Asia, Helle fell off and died. The straits are still known today as Hellespont. Phrixus, on the other hand, was carried away to safety. He gave thanks for his deliverance by sacrificing the ram to Zeus and giving its golden fleece to King Aeetes from whom it was eventually nicked by Jason. Zeus, of course, cast the ram into the heavens in honour of its courage.

Pompeii Phrixus and Helle

Phrixus and Helle, fresco, Pompeii

Here’s another image of Phrixus and Helle, taken as many others seem to have been, from the Roman original. It’s by a Greek folk artist called Theophilos Hatzimihail who painted numerous scenes of the Greek myths, this is probably early 20th century.

Theophilos Hatzimihail Phrixus and Helle

Theophilos Hatzimihail, Phrixus and Helle, late 19th/ early 20th century, Theophilos Museum, Mytilene, Greece

By all accounts Theophilos was bit eccentric and liked to wear traditional Greek costume at all times. He seems to have been the butt of practical jokes wherever he went throughout his life, poor thing. I was wondering whether he’d modelled Phrixus on himself in this image, then I realised….

Theophilos Hatzimihail, Mytilene, Greece

Theophilos Hatzimihail, photograph, early 20th century, courtesy of Theophilos Museum

Tom Selleck as Phrixus

The one and only Tom Selleck, photo Donaldson Collection/Getty Images

Finally, back to the original image of Athamas and Ino. If the the kids aren’t Phrixus and Helle, who are they? There’s one hell of a postscript to this story. You will notice that Ino is holding Athamas’s hair as though to stop him hurting yet another child. I’d like to say that it’s because she’s become a nicer person, but really it’s because these are her children. In a whole other tale of woe, the couple have managed to upset Hera who exacts her revenge by making Athamas mad and he kills one child whilst the other dies when he plunges into the sea with his mother, Ino.

Good grief! All that for the origin of Aries.

The video of this episode can be viewed here. To view the entire ‘Elevenses with Lynne’ archive, head to the Free Art Videos page.

April Fools!

By April Fool, Elevenses, Talking art

The exciting news in this week’s episode, should you have chosen to believe it, is that I announced that some of my work is going to exhibited by the Robert Rauschenberg Foundation. According to me, the foundation are preparing an exhibition around his work ‘Erased’ (the one where he took a drawing by William de Kooning and rubbed it out), which is going to raise money for artists affected by COVID-19. For those that have followed me for a while, you will know that I created a ‘Curated Canapés and Cocktails’ video on the subject along with a trailer that involved me drawing the most embarrassing self-portrait EVER to then, well, erase. I was delighted to be giving the foundation the rights to show the video and display my erased portrait.

If only. The date of the original broadcast was 01 April.

Here are my self-portraits(!!) and you can see the full video of ‘Erased’ here and the trailer here.

Lynne Hanley masterpiece for Erased

Lynne Hanley, Self Portrait, 2020

Self-portrait Lynne Hanley mercifully erased

Lynne Hanley, Self Portrait mercifully erased, 2020

The theme of this episode continues with the Council of Trent. Or at least with a painting of the council of Trent, which is in the Museo del Palazzo del Buonconsiglio (palace of good council) in Trent. At some point during the Council of Trent the ‘good council’ was to switch to the Gregorian calendar which meant that the start of the year switched to 01 Jan instead of 01 April, which the French did in 1582.

Council of Trent

The Council of Trent, Museo del Palazzo del Buonconsiglio

Only some people missed the memo and continued to go crazy and party like mad during the last week of March and the first day of April. For their ignorance those poor folk became the butt of jokes and hoaxes; I guess it was quite easy for others to play tricks on them if they were in the party spirit anyway. I have to say that I would likely have joined them (the party-goers, rather than the pranksters!).

Saatchi collection, Thierry Bruet, April Fool

Thierry Bruet, Poisson D’avril, 2018, Saatchi collection

This painting by Thierry Bruet depicts an elegantly dressed lady who is clearly being made fun of as she has a fish attached to the back of her lovely ball gown. Possibly it’s nothing more than a child’s prank and we can see that this little girl on the sofa is happy to share the joke with the viewer, the paper and scissors are on the floor. However, the fish looks as though it’s swimming upstream right towards a certain part of her anatomy which marries with the slightly obsequious expression of the ‘groper’ which leaves me wondering whether something else is going on? The work is contemporary – it was created in 2018 – but it references one of the most common pranks of late 16th century France which was to pin a paper fish on someone’s back. Why a fish? Because when they’re young and gullible they are easily hooked. So in France, an April fool is a poisson d’avril – an April fish!

The tradition found its way into Britain in the 18th century and it was also taken up in the US where the theme was expanded.

This final image comes from an April edition of the Saturday Evening Post in 1943 and it’s a fun April Fool celebration full of inconsistencies and jokes.

There’s too much going on to mention here – there are apparently 45 ‘errors’ in this illustration. We might not count as many today as the fact that she is wearing trousers was classed as one of them! After its initial publication, Rockwell said that he’d received a letter from a guy who claimed to have counted 184!

But the thing that really got people talking was not so much that there are fish swimming up the staircase to the left of the image, but the position of the staircase itself! People raged that architecturally staircases don’t go behind chimneys, until someone from Ohio sent a photo of his staircase behind his chimney and shut everyone up.

How many errors can you see? I’d love you to list them in the comments – maybe we’ll get to 45. If we get to 184 we should all start to worry!

Norman Rockwell, April Fool: Checkers

Norman Rockwell, April Fool: Checkers, 1943, private collection

The video of this episode can be viewed here. To view the entire ‘Elevenses with Lynne’ archive, head to the Free Art Videos page.

The tender and cruel Sofonisba Anguissola

By International Women's Day, Renaissance Art, Talking art

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about an incredible female artist called Lavinia Fontana. This week is all about the ‘tender and cruel’ Sofonisba Anguissola who made her name in Rome and later worked for Philip II Spain in Madrid.

Anguissola’s talent was recognised very early on, she was lucky enough to have a forward thinking and liberal father who was keen to educate his daughters (he had six in total and just one son) and he encouraged her to draw and paint and even got her a tutor, the artist Bernadino Campi.

self portrait Sofonisba Anguissola

Sofonisba Anguissola,
Self-portrait, 1560-1,
Pinacoteca Brera, Italy

That isn’t to say that life as a female artist was plain sailing for Anguissola. It is true that when she met Michelangelo in Rome in 1554 when she was in her early 20s he gave her sketches from his notebooks to help her develop her own style. There’s also evidence that he helped and guided her quite substantially over at least a couple of years. She must have really impressed him; Michelangelo was known to be massively grumpy and critical!

Around the same time that Anguissola met Michelangelo, the Florentine painter Francesco Salviati wrote a letter to her tutor, Campi, congratulating him on his great achievement. It went on to say that this achievement was born of his beautiful intellect. Was it that Anguissola was being educated and trained by the best of the best? Michelangelo and Campi?

Not so much.

Campi’s achievement was Anguissola!

The slight must have made Sofonisba at least a little bit peeved and we all know that revenge is a dish best served cold. Although there is no documentation that I’m aware of that lays out Anguissola’s intent, take a look at this double portrait.

It was described to me once as both incredibly tender and incredibly cruel.

It is an image of Bernadino Campi painting Sofonisba Anguissola’s portrait painted by Anguissola in 1559. Got it?! Anguissola has imitated his style in the painting of her portrait – the one that Campi is supposed to painting – but the thing is that he was a less accomplished artist than she was. So she is imitating his style, which should be flattering, but because he is the lesser artist, it isn’t. There’s another thing. She has also made herself the larger of the two so that she dominates him. Two fingers to Salviati? I think so. On the other hand, honouring Campi in her work in the first place was a lovely thing to do and the intimacy between them is, I feel, very apparent, especially when her original design is taken into account.

Anguissola portrait of Campi

Sofonisba Anguissola, Bernardino Campi painting Sofonisba Anguissola, c.1559, Pinacoteca Nazionale, Siena

Take a look at these three images. The first is of the painting before it was restored in 1996. The second is during restoration and the third is post restoration.

Anguissola's portrait of Bernadino Campi pre restoration
Sofonisba Anguissola portrait of Campi during restoration
Anguissola portrait of Campi

In the the first and third image her left hand is holding a pair of gloves. During restoration, she appears to have grown a limb! A second left hand is visible reaching up as though to remove the brush or at least the mahlstick from Campi’s grasp. Or maybe she’s helping by holding the mahlstick steady as he paints the delicate lace of her dress?

You could say that this is a simple pentimento – a change that occurs as the artist works through their design on the canvas – but this version is very detailed so Anguissola got a long way down the line before she decided to let Campi get on with it and stopped trying to intervene / help, instead occupying her hand with the gloves.

It was decided to restore the painting to the image that Anguissola finally intended, hence the after restoration image doesn’t include the third arm.

Finally, I had to include this by painting by van Dyck of Anguissola in the last year of her life. It was painted in 1624, she died in 1625 aged 93.

Sofonisba Anguissola by Van Dyke

Van Dyke, Sofonisba Anguissola, 1624, Knole House, Kent

The video of this episode can be viewed here. To view the entire ‘Elevenses with Lynne’ archive, head to the Free Art Videos page.

The Origin of Pisces

By Origin of Starsigns, Pisces, Talking art, Typhon

There’s a room in the Villa Farnese just outside Rome which is decorated by a fresco that details the whole of known world in 1572 plus a ceiling fresco comprising all the stories behind the creation of the twelve signs of the zodiac. In this blog post we’re talking about the origin of the star sign Pisces.

sala del mappamondo

Sala del mappamondo, fresco by Giovanni di Vecchi in Villa Farnese. Image courtesy of ilturista.info

zodiac ceiling villa farnese

Zodiac ceiling, image courtesy of travelingintuscany.com

The mythology of Pisces generally follows a single legend which takes us back to the Titanonmachy  – the battle between the Gods and Titans after Zeus has overthrown Cronos.

The baddie of the tale is a monster called Typhon who was the child of Gaia and Tartarus, conceived (poor thing) primarily to fight Zeus and the gods. He is an eclectic assortment of body parts, generally depicted with a man’s torso and snake legs, but he’s always really tall with incredibly long arms and to top it off, terrible breath that turned into fire. He terrorised the gods for a while until they dumped a mountain on his head, which inevitably became a volcano, now known as Mount Etna.

detail of pisces in zodiac ceiling
Zeus and Typhon, Staatliche Antikensammlungen, Munich

Typhon as imagined on an ancient vase – with Zeus to the left about to whack him with a thunder bolt, c. 540–530 BC, Staatliche Antikensammlungen, Munich, Germany

Typhon and harpies, Wenceslas Hollar

Typhon not looking particularly scary in an image by Wenceslas Hollar, a prolific graphic artist in the 17th century. The harpies on either side are his offspring in some versions of the story (Typhon’s, not Hollar’s!). Image courtesy of Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library.

So, Typhon has it in for all the gods on Mount Olympus and he storms over to the mountain ready to do some damage.

Loads of the gods and goddesses see him coming and disguise themselves by turning into animals but Venus and Cupid are having a lovely walk along the river, miss all the warning signs and to avoid serious injury or death by Typhon (from which we take the modern term Typhoon), they jump into the river and turn into fish, tying their tails together to avoid becoming separated, which is what you see in the ceiling fresco, and once in the river, a couple of other fish who know their way around the place swim them away to safety.

The fish that saved them were later honoured by being placed in the heavens as a constellation. Some would argue that these fish must be Venus and Cupid but that doesn’t make sense to me as you usually disappear from earth when you become a constellation and they were both very much around after this point in Greek mythology. Either way, that’s the origin of Pisces!

stained glass window, Chartres Cathedral

This glorious image is ‘Pisces’ from the Zodiac window in Chartres Cathedral. Chartres Cathedral has 176 stained glass windows, the most complete group surviving anywhere from the Middle Ages. Several windows date to the mid-12th century CE while over 150 survive from the early 13th century CE.

The video of this episode can be viewed here. To view the entire ‘Elevenses with Lynne’ archive, head to the Free Art Videos page.

Erm, a bum squeeze for International Women’s Day?!

By Elevenses, International Women's Day, Lavinia Fontana, Talking art

I suppose this could really have been the prequel to last week’s Mars by Velázquez. This is the God of War with his lover Venus, tentatively wondering whether he’s going to get away with touching her bum! This is for International Women’s Day – what am I thinking?!

Lavinia Fontana Venus and Mars

Lavinia Fontana, Mars and Venus, c. 1595, Madrid, Fundación Casa de Alba

We have a similar concept to the Velázquez painting in that all the trappings of war are on the floor, Venus has shimmied out of her chemise and taken off her slippers ready to climb into bed and love, rather than war, certainly seems to be the order of the day. Once again we are invited to come to the conclusion that that love conquers all.

The vase that is so prevalent in the foreground could be a reference to the womb, most often used in reference to the Virgin Mary, or it could be part of anyone of a number of complex rebuses, the simplest of which takes the first letter of shield and vase – s and v (handily the same in Latin), which is an abbreviated form of sotto voce – as in ‘shhh! keep it quiet’ because Mars and Venus were in an illicit love affair. There are various other suggestions along these lines in a book called Lavinia Fontana’s Mythological Paintings: Art, Beauty, and Wisdom by Liana De Girolami Cheney.

Now we get to the point (finally) of this post. The reason that I’ve chosen this work is to celebrate International Women’s Day. Crap choice then, you might be thinking. But is it?!

Fontana Venus and Mars detail

You can and should read this as a gratuitous bum touching moment. It was created at a time in which the view of a bottom squished on a cushion was sending pulses racing all over Europe, but this is so much more than that.  This was painted by a lady called Lavinia Fontana.

Fontana was from Bologna, born in 1552 and trained by her father – as pretty much all female artists of that time were, otherwise they didn’t have the opportunity to become artists. She became the main bread winner in her house and ran her own workshop whilst her husband acted as her agent and raised their eleven children. In later life she worked in Rome under the patronage of the Pope and was the first female painter to be elected into the Academy of St Luke in Rome. Some art historians credit her with being the first woman artist to paint female nudes.

So why has she painted this? It was almost certainly a commission, and it references the slightly out of control desire for the nude seated female bottom.

But look more closely. That hand isn’t quite right on her bottom; the bottom and the hand don’t have a relationship somehow, it’s almost as though the hand is on the canvas rather than in it – or it’s both? Does that make it a double grope?! That’s making a bit of a statement. Then we have phallic symbols, the spiky centre of the shield and the sword, both a bit useless on the floor and instead the sleeve of her chemise has found its way between Venus’s legs. A limp bit of white material. You might also notice that Mars is lower than Venus so she’s dominating him psychologically and physically. I feel that it’s all a bit subversive. If Venus can’t do anything about the arse grab she can certainly wither a man with her superiority! In which case is her look over her shoulder an invitation or is it a look of ‘see what I have to put up with!’?

The flower doesn’t offer much of a clue. It’s been identified as a daffodil or narcissus which could variously allude to the potency love, or rebirth which goes hand in hand with death, or to Mars himself – they bloom in late February and March and he does have some on his helmet too.

But in all this, I have to wonder why they think it’s okay to get jiggy with Cupid in the room? He looks as though he’s fallen asleep over his laptop! Of course he’s there to help us identify Venus, he’s her son, just as the pearls she wears (and sits on!) reference her birth from the sea.

Cupid detail Mars and Venus Lavinia Fontana

The video of this episode can be viewed here. To view the entire ‘Elevenses with Lynne’ archive, head to the Free Art Videos page

March on!

By Elevenses, Origin of March, Talking art

What makes this fresco from Pompeii relevant to the origin of the month of March? It’s all about the God of War. The Greeks called him Ares. The Romans called him Mars. That’s a clue! March was named after Mars in the Roman calendar because it was at this time of the year that military campaigns could recommence after the winter months.

I’m slightly worried for this chap that he’s off to war wearing only a helmet and a cape. I understand that we have to distinguish him as the God of War but I feel he might get chilly – it’s only March after all, not the middle of summer.

Roman God of War Mars

Fresco Painting of Mars, God of War, Pompeii, 1st century BC

Why is he basically nude? Well, the ancient Greeks came before the ancient Romans, the ancient Romans thought the ancient Greeks were marvellous and copied much of their art – the sculptures in particular. Only they copied the original bronze sculptures in marble and then melted down the originals to use the bronze, hence not many of the original Greek statues survived. The nude in Greek culture was a symbol of the hero, disassociated with reality, elevated from the troubles and conventions of the real world. So in this fresco, the Romans have emulated Greek statuary and portrayed Mars as a hero ready to go into battle. Got it?!

Diego Velázquez, Mars, c.1638, Prado, Madrid

Diego Velázquez, Mars, c.1638, Prado, Madrid

If he looks heroic but unready to our eyes, Velázquez’s Mars is properly peeved to be popping his armour back on. That might be because, in Velázquez’s hands, he has something possibly just as energetic but hopefully rather less dangerous that he’s leaving behind. Look at all that sumptuous bedlinen – that’s definitely not a soldier’s single bed.

Velazquez Mars detail

As a side comment and a bit of a giggle, does that not look like the top of a hold-up on his left thigh? It’s the result of a correction that has become apparent as paint has become more translucent over time I would imagine so sadly, I don’t think we can claim that Mars was into wearing stockings or hold-ups, but so what if he was?

This is Mars as he’s rarely depicted. Older, perhaps slightly defeated, magnificent handlebar moustache, absorbed in his own thoughts.

How do we know he’s Mars then? The helmet again and the rest of his armour still on the floor – it’s a sort of transitional moment from man to soldier.

It is unusual but as it was in the Torre de la Parada, the royal hunting pavilion on the outskirts of Madrid, the leisurely, off duty feeling of the work can I think be explained.

There is also a tradition in art that when armour and the instruments of war are scattered on the floor, especially with a sumptuous bed in the frame, we can assume that war has been defeated by love, or that love conquers all.

Tom Selleck as Mars

P.S. it has been mentioned that Velázquez’s Mars bears a little resemblance to a certain moustachioed film star… what do you think? Comments please!

The video of this episode can be viewed here. To view the entire ‘Elevenses with Lynne’ archive, head to the Free Art Videos page.

Did Cupid ever grow up?

By Cupid, Elevenses, Talking art, Valentines day

When you think of Cupid, what do you think of? A cute toddler with wings and a bow and arrow? That’s definitely the image I conjure of him, which begs the question, did Cupid not actually grow up?

If you take this glorious image by Titian and look closely at Venus’s face, she might have been a little worried too.

Worship of Venus Titian

Titian, The Worship of Venus, 1518, Prado, Madrid

Detail of Venus from Worship of Venus for Alfonso d'Este

Detail from Titian’s Worship of Venus, 1518, Prado

There is a story within Greek mythology in which Venus complains to Themis that her son is really cute but he’s never left the toddler stage and she’s worried.

So Themis has a moment of contemplation and says you know, I think he’s not growing up because he’s always alone – get him a companion and they’ll grow together.

Venus has another baby, Anteros, the god of requited love, and as soon as Cupid, or Eros to give him his Greek name, saw his brother, he grew. Unfortunately, as soon as he was separated from Anteros, he reverted back to a toddler.

What’s the moral of the story? In order to grow, love needs to be reciprocated.

They made quite a good little team – Cupid maintained the task of hurling his arrows to ignite passion and Anteros protected those who found a love match. Here they are in this tondo with Eros forging arrows in a fire on the right and Anteros stoking the flames with his bellows on the left. Sweet.

Eros and Anteros Gods of Love and Requited Love

Unknown artist, Eros and Anteros, tondo in courtyard of the Villa Salviati, Florence, Italy

Of course, however, they also had brotherly spats.

In this fresco from the Casa dell’ Amore punito, literally translated as the House of Love Punished, in Pompeii, Peithò (Greek goddess of persuasion and oratory) is leading Cupid/Eros in on the left to be told off by his mother, Venus, for firing his arrow at the wrong target. Peithò looks encouraging but I think Cupid has seen the look on his Mother’s face! Behind Venus, Anteros is delighted that Cupid’s in trouble. It’s nice to know that there’s something normal about this pair.

Eros and Anteros House of Love Punished Pompeii

Wall painting in the House of Love Punished, Pompeii, 1st century AD, Archaeological Museum, Naples

The video of this episode can be viewed here. To view the entire ‘Elevenses with Lynne’ archive, head to the Free Art Videos page.

St Valentine. Or should I say St Valentines?

By Art Tours, Elevenses, Talking art, Valentines day

Early depictions of St Valentine show him humbly submitting to having his head chopped off. Not terribly romantic but he wasn’t associated with romance back then, he was basically a martyr who happened to have performed a miracle or two.

St Valentine martyred Queen Mary Psalter

The Queen Mary Psalter, 1310-20, Royal MS 2 B VII, f. 243r, British Library

It was only in 1375 when Chaucer’s poem ‘Parliament of Fowls’ was published that a link was forged between St Valentine and romance. The link comes from the lines

‘Seynt Valentyne’s day / Whan every foul cometh ther to choose his mate,’

Apparently birds went out to find their mates on February 14 so why shouldn’t unmarried boys and girls should do the same?

But if St Valentine wasn’t originally the patron saint of hearts and flowers, who was he?

That’s a moot point. There are two contenders:

Contender 1 is the 3rd century Bishop of Terni, Narnia and Amelia. Yes! There is a real place called Narnia, it’s a hilltop town in Umbria. C S Lewis loved the name and used it for the Chronicles of Narnia series.

Placed under house arrest with a local judge because of his faith, the Bishop proves a point by restoring sight to his captors blind daughter. The judge converts, releases loads of Christians from prison and of course allows his excellency to roam free to carry on preaching, whereupon he becomes a nuisance and is sent to Rome to repent or get bludgeoned and beheaded. Instead of repenting he tries to convert Emperor Claudius II, which leads to his head getting chopped off.

St Valentine from the Unknown artist, Saint Valentine of Terni and his disciples, 14th century, Lives of Saints, Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Paris

Unknown artist, Saint Valentine of Terni and his disciples, 14th century, Lives of the Saints, (Codex: Français 185, Fol. 210), Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Paris

St Valentine the priest in Nuremberg Chronicle

Michael Wolgemut and Wilhelm Pleydenwurff, St Valentine, Nuremberg Chronicle, 1493, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek

Contender 2 wasn’t a Bishop but a priest. The story here goes that St. Valentine was imprisoned for marrying Christian couples and aiding Christians being persecuted by Claudius II in Rome. According to legend, while in prison Valentinus fell in love with the blind daughter of his jailer and guess what? He restored her sight and all the jailors converted so he was given the option to repent and renounce his faith or get bludgeoned and beheaded.

I’m not the only one who thinks these stories are rather similar, especially because both Valentines were reported to be buried in the same place in the north of Rome. There’s no official ruling on whether they were the same person or not and in 1969, the Roman Catholic Church removed St. Valentine from the General Roman Calendar, because so little is known about him. Luckily the church still recognizes him as a saint.

Good job he's the patron saint of epileptics, beekeepers and lovers

The video of this episode can be viewed here. To view the entire ‘Elevenses with Lynne’ archive, head to the Free Art Videos page.

The Elevenses blog – February Valentine’s Greetings!

By Elevenses, Lupercalia, Talking art, Valentines day

In an effort to be more cohesive in my hitherto fun but scattergun approach, I’ve decided to work on a theme a month for my weekly Elevenses. This means that I can plan in advance, advertise what’s coming up and take the opportunity to use the material for my blog. Project Edutainment (I must find it a proper title!) isn’t forgotten; this is all about making space in my brain and diary to concentrate on the bigger picture.

So, the obvious theme for February is St Valentine. Being me, however, I wanted to do more than scratch the surface. Did you know that there is a possible connection between Greek mythology and Valentine’s Day? I had to verify the article that introduced me to this idea with a good delve into ancient Greek and Roman sources to be sure my facts were correct, and indeed both Plutarch and Livy were happy to confirm this link. Who knew? With some Greek mythology and stories of young men running amok in the streets written about for week 1, clearly the mysterious St Valentine himself had to be addressed. The Catholic Online website is absolutely sure that I’m a curious catholic nibbling around the edges of what they have to offer as I do tend to visit quite often just to get an overview before I invariably head off on another tangent. My tangent this time was the first recorded Valentine’s Day greetings. What I absolutely love about art history is that there are always connections to be made. This one is between ‘Mad Charles VI’ of France of Bal des Ardents fame, and the first ever Valentine written. The discovery made me so happy, as did writing about Cupid. The Valentine offering per se, as in the episode nearest to Valentine’s Day, is all about an aspect of this cheeky chappie that is rarely discussed. Of course it is! Welcome to the Elevenses blog!

I’ll up date the page after each Elevenses with Lynne to reflect the episode. I hope you enjoy it.

Have some bl**dy fun!

By Dressing up, Filming, New ventures, Talking art
Virtual kitchen for Curated Canapés and Cocktails

I’m going to say it quietly but I have a sneaky suspicion that I’ll look back on these weeks of lockdown with, if not fondness, then a sense of satisfaction. Okay, so the consecutive days of walking more than 10k steps have waned although I did (annoying boast alert) walk to see the sun rise over London this morning. Not only was it was glorious but I did all my ‘steps’ before 6am. Naturally I then went back to bed and was woken up by a very bemused postman. I felt that I had to explain in detail why I was in my dressing gown at 10am. I really, really didn’t!

Anyway, my sense of satisfaction won’t come from a newly honed Olympian-worthy fitness regime, nor from my massively reduced outgoings. It will come from a feeling that I’ve learnt so much about how to do things differently. Sometimes this has come with a realisation that I need to let myself ‘go’ a bit more, in a manner of speaking. Actually, this ‘letting go’ thing wasn’t a lightbulb moment as much as something that was put to me from a friend who has a lot of experience in the entertainment industry. Have some bloody fun, he said, and if it all goes wrong blame it on lockdown.

So, having settled nicely into a way of working with the green screen, I changed everything and started a new version of ‘Pepped up by Paintings’ called ‘Curated canapés and cocktails’. I cannot tell you how hard I find working with props, if you call piping devilled egg filling into perfect opaque white half spheres ‘working with props’. Except that these ‘props’ weren’t perfect to begin with; some of the spheres were so far to the edge that I was extremely doubtful that the filling would hold, and then I completely fluffed EVERYTHING I was supposed to say, to the point that it became gibberish, and had to start again which entailed scraping all the filling out before the next take. Twice. Now you know why I didn’t want to eat the eggs. And also why the bag eventually collapsed.

The biggest revelation from all this was that I shouldn’t try to ‘act’ ever again. A slightly exaggerated version of myself is fine, but I’m absolutely not an actress. Meryl is safe for which I’m certain she’s profoundly grateful.

I suspect that I’ll be tweaking the presentation and production of these videos for some time until I’ve honed my craft to the best of my abilities (!), but for now I’m loving the fact that I’ve sort of been given permission to play. I’m not sure who is doling out this permission but I really hope that the result is something that is fun to watch. And if it goes badly wrong, I’ll blame it on lockdown.