Sunday 15th December - A Girl Knitting

Is it Sunday? I've had to check, which isn't a good sign as it means I've already lost track of what day we are on.  I need to pull myself together as I have a trip to the tip to look forward to - an exciting British pastime - and I need to do a cooking/baking schedule for this week or else things won't get done. Yes, I am the woman with a schedule. I also need to make marzipan.  I have an odd life, I admit.  Onwards!

Alma Harlon got her parts in Hollywood through her unique and noisy headwear...

As it is Sunday and I'm exhausted, plus I have my bits and bobs to do, I'll see if I can find a nice soothing picture before I start the run down of our last paintings, for which I have some corkers.  How about something a bit continental...?

A Girl Knitting (1874) 

Théodore Gérard

I didn't believe that cats and wool were really a thing until the Chairman came to stay. I understand if a ball of wool is rolling then they chase, but I remember I was knitting with the wool next to me and all of a sudden this little paw appeared and grabbed it.  I told him he was an absolute cliché. I knit a lot and am now extremely mindful of where my wool is in comparison to cat paws, and my basket of wool at the end of the sofa is always being appraised.  It is just a matter of time before he throws himself in and chaos will ensue.

The Collector's Studio (undated)

Gérard was born in Ghent in Belgium in 1829 and studied there, setting himself up as an artist before moving to Brussels when he was 29. He was a prolific painter and exhibited not only widely but, for want of a better word, heavily, having multiple works in single exhibitions and walking away with numerous medals, including Philadelphia in 1876, where he exhibited 8 paintings. He was best known for images of home life, seen more in the German style then French, as commented in Art and Artists of Our Time by Clarence Cook, from 1888, although two of his paintings from Philadelphia had been fashionable scenes of antiquity. Interestingly, Cook argues in his book that the American audience found Gérard's scene to be like stage sets, as for them 'utilitarian ruled rich and poor alike' and the State-side audience were charmed and puzzled by a way of life where customs and pleasure still had a place, which sounds so modern and sad. 

Two Hungry Companions (1878)

There is a gentleness in these pictures, a quiet, home-made way of life which defies our current fast-paced existence. I was horrified to hear that already in 1888, it was felt American had left that behind in favour of money, modernism and merchandise.  Yes, it can be argued that we are looking at gilded poverty, with hunger haunting the doorway and handcrafts being your only option, but there is a feel of appreciation through creation, of having the small skills that are yours.  Looking at the home in Two Hungry Companions, I love the bowl on the floor with its glorious colour and pattern. Both the girls in the above paintings are well dressed and their houses are filled with pretty things, just not as many as the collector whose studio is absolutely filled to the brim.  Possibly we are often in danger of losing the ability to appreciate what we have in this era of aspiration, especially at this time of year it can be tempting to think on what you can't buy, rather than what we have.  If I ever feel a little discontent, a glance at the number of food bank boxes and collection points for Christmas toys for kids that are seemingly everywhere just now, sobers me up.  I've had the sort of year that has brutally emphasised the saying 'Enough is Great Riches' but more to the point, being angry because you think everyone else has more dinner than you won't fill your plate. 

Mr Walker is making his Christmas fudge this afternoon so I have that to look forward to, which is happiness indeed.  I'll catch you tomorrow.