The Queen. Art & Image

I love to look at people. You find me in (almost) every exhibition of portraits I can get to – so it was a very special treat to see “The Queen. Art&Image” in the National Portrait Gallery (curator Paul Moorhouse).

The “Portrait of Queen Elizabeth II” by Pietro Annigoni, 1954-5 impressed me: A very upright young Queen with a Grand Admiral’s Cape. One can only speculate how it would feel to be raised to the task of monarch. She was so young when she became Queen, so beautiful and full of energy, seemingly without a doubt about her role, so aloof.

“When I was a little child, it always delighted me to look out of the window and see the people and the traffic going by”, said the Queen once - that was interpreted for the Annigoni portrait as: ‘The image suggests an individual gazing at the world from a position of isolation.’

The theme of the Monarch in an Admiral’s Cape is repeated through the decades: by Annigoni 1954, Cecil Beaton 1968, Annie Leibovitz 2009.

On the other hand (my favourite) we see the private person: the Queen under an umbrella, laughing into a rainy sky. 

The image changes gradually.

We see a portrait by Gerhard Richter, that shows a blurred portrait of a Queen, surrounded by a sort of haze.

Then we see the Queen in her family, no longer stiff portraits but ‘relaxed’ meetings.

What I admire: though giving in to more nearness to the public the Queen always keeps a sort of personal distance.

So the snapshot of the Queen looking at Castle Windsor after the fire seems almost indecent to me (as I always think of photographs of persons in grief, whichever rank in life they have – I wish they were protected to keep their dignity, not being exposed).

The peak of image change comes after the death of Diana, Princess of Wales.

What I admire: the Queen very seldom rejects the request for a portrait, and she doesn’t censore or comment on a portrait. No comments on Justin Mortimer’s or Lucien Freud’s portrait. I never forgot the cover of the Sex Pistols' single “God Save the Queen” by Jamie Reid – funny -, but after a short glance at  “Medusa” by John Locke I have forgotten that one in a minute.

Unsettling: the holograms. Especially the last one, where the Queen has closed her eyes. 

The official Jubilee-Portrait by the German Thomas Struth gives a successful synthesis of Art&Image: for first time you see the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh, as Struth said, "both in their royal environment... and yet both in their own aura".
Though official, it is a (huge) photograph with a private touch, both sitting on a beautiful sofa (not a throne!) in Windsor Castle’s Green Drawing Room. The Queen is a bit nearer to the viewer, more light on her face and powder-blue dress, looking aloof but almost vulnerable to me. I pondered what made the tweak in that portrait, and I think it is the “Image” of Royalty in the baroque splendour versus her comfortable black shoes. Even a Queen is human and gets older. Someone wrote: “.. the Duke appears to fall back into shadow” – that I cannot confirm: the vivid presence of Prince Philip, a beautiful man, drew me back at least three times after having made my round.
Because this portrait shows – to me – not only the image, but it shows love and understanding between a couple. 

I feel it: He ist he love of her life.

PS: I found a beautiful little gem about Prince Philip in a German newspaper from 1950: “As any other proud father Prince Philip went himself to the registrar to let the birth of his son been registrated. He took the ration cards, which were allowed to every new born child, and bought himself the bottle of codliver-oil and the two bottles orange juice, that every new born was allocated out as extra ration."

"As my Whimsy takes me"

This will be a short post. Promised.
Cause I still to have unpack a few things, being back from a week in London.
And it is so hot, even now when the air stirs a bit and the sun is sinking. In a few minutes I will sit beside my sweet smelling roses on the balcony and drink a glass of fine chilly white wine. Ahh!
But I thought a lot not only in London of Lord Peter's motto: "As my Whimsy takes me", which I have adopted over a decade ago.
I have good travel guides - but I prefer to follow my whimsy. And not only on travels.
In London I met a dear exciting friend - and made new ones: Louise, whom I only knew via Facebook, came from Dover and we spent a lovely day in the V&A and Kensington Gardens.
And the author of the Leon-Cookbook, Henry Dimbleby, and his wonderful wife Mima invited me spontaneously to their home and cooked for me - such an amusing, witty and nourishing evening  that went by like a minute.
The whole week flew by in the blink of an eye (I will not get allegoric about that now, because then the post will become longer :-)
I'll raise my glass to you instead and greet you all:
"Cheers! Sláinte! Good to see/read you again!"

When nothing goes right/ turn left.

When nothing goes right / turn left. 
Yogi Berra

Sometimes I am in dire need of a quick laugh. This morning I skimmed aimlessly through my notebook - and found this quote of Lawrence Peter 'Yogi' Berra. Born 1925 in St. Louis, Missouri, he was a famous baseball player, nowadays mostly known for his sayings, which seem often a bit strange, but include more wisdom than one guess at the first glance.
In career guidance I especially love:
"If you come to a fork on a road, take it."
(No, I'm not mocking my clients - but sometime there must be an end of pondering and procrastinating, and one should act at last).
"If you don't know where you are going, you might wind up someplace else", is another favourite of mine.
And we all know the deep wisdom of this one:
"In theory there is no difference between theory and practice. In practice there is."
Sometimes I wish I had his nerves:
"I never blame myself when I am not hitting. I just blame the bat and if it keeps up, I change bats. After all, I know it isn't my fault that I'm not hitting, how can I get mad at myself?" 
Well, I can.
And of course he is right with this corker:

"It ain't over till it's over." 

Lost and Found

I just read Nutty Gnome's post on "Réunion" and thought about old friends, and listened to The Kinks "Lost and Found"...
Sometimes it is like that: you lose sight of each other - then, suddenly, you try to find them again - and when you meet it is as if you just enter a room that you've left a minute ago (though it might have been many years).
Sometimes Life's circumstances develop in such a different way - one gets children, the other tries to build a career, and both don't talk of anything else, and each one thinks "One more mentioning of baby food < - > statistics - and I'll go mad!" And then, like Piglet, both have "very particular morning things" to do or move to another town. Silence for a couple of years.
Then one day you flip through old letters and think: "What might she be doing?" and look into Facebook or Stayfriends - and if you are lucky you find her again.
Often there is a Happy End.
And sometimes not: I laughed very much at IG's comment to Nutty Gnome:

I went on an exchange visit with a toerag named Eric Tossi. I believe I blogged about him once! I'm glad your relationship has lasted. Eric and I failed to connect, although I do wish, with hindsight, I'd beaten him senseless!

Yes, IG - I remember that post :-)
And I remember that I still feel a bit guilty about my pen pal Michel. Of course French - our French teacher had given us the adresses to enhance our French. As I did.
Such a lovely exchange of letters!
Then he announced he wanted to visit me. And sent me a photograph.
I do hope that I have become more mature nowadays, I really do! (I'm sure: skin-deep I have :-).
Because - you guess what happened?
Being a very superficial young lady at that time - one glance at the photo - -
and I remembered that I had something very important to do:

"...a very particular morning thing, that has to be done in the morning, and, if possible between the hours of - What would you say the time was?" "About twelve" (...)
"Between, as I was saying, the hours of twelve and twelve five. So, really, (...) if you'll excuse me -".  

Change?

Nothing in the world is permanent, and we're foolish when we ask anything to last, but surely we're still more foolish not to take delight in it while we have it. 

W.Somerset Maugham 

Yesterday I tried something new in 'my' Blogland - some of you may have noticed it: I changed my template to the new Dynamic Version - Mosaic - as I have already done in "Gardening in Highheels" and "Britta's Happiness of the Day." 

I loved the result. So non-committing. So optional. So "new". 

See: I love change. 

Then I tried to write a new post - this one - on my other computer, a  Mac - where I have all my "old" photographs from Hamburg, like the one above. 

But I could not get at my homepage there, so I changed the template back. 

Now my question to you: 

 

Which template do you like more? 

(To see the new one you have to look at www.burstingwithhappiness.blogspot.com to compare). 

And another question: 

How do you notice when I have written a new post? 

I take all of your blogs on my blog list - one glance at the left side of my template and I see who has written something new. But those who chose to show only a selection of blogs on their bloglist: how do you notice a new post of mine? You write comments, so there must be a way. 

Please tell me - and if you prefer the new version, I'll find a way to change it. 

Stuck

Do you know this feeling? It comes out of the blue. Nothing dramatically has happened (thank God). Maybe it is just this feeling that nothing happens. 
Feeling stuck. Rien ne va plus. 
Everyone and everything seems to squat on its old place without moving a jota. The radio plays the same old songs. I’m captivated by a time warp, cotton between me and the world outside. Listlessly I drink a tea. While English people say “Just wait and see!” Germans advise “Wait and drink tea!” So I do. Sip another cup of Lady Grey and stare into the fine drizzle outside. 
Of course I know what ‘happened’. Yin and Yang. What goes up must come down. And vice versa.  
So I tell myself to take a rest, allow myself to do nothing. (I’m not good at that). Usually I start a new project before I finish another. This time I don’t know which of my new projects is really worth that my heart glows for it. I feel distracted. A bit subdued. 
Which of course is utterly unfair: one glimpse into my Gratitude Journal would show me that.  
Stubbornly I refuse to have a look.  
Maybe I just want to sit here doing nothing? For a day at least: not doing anything but let it happen, as the New Agers say? Charge the batteries, as an engineer would say? I can relax: Life will move on in its own wonderful way.  
So I’ll just have a walk without an aim (but an umbrella). Or take a pencil and draw instead of taking quick pictures with my camera.  
I’ll be looking carefully, be silent (as good as I can, with that monkeymind), try to forget the ‘World of the Tenthousand Things’, just comfort the body - then mind and soul will follow. 
As Scarlett O’Hara put it so nicely: 
"After all, tomorrow is another day."

A very special Easter Egg

I’m so proud! 

The book “Leon. Backen. Herzhaft&Süß” is now published by DuMont on the German market – and I translated it. 

Written by Claire Ptak and Henry Dimbleby the book was such a joy to translate. 

Lovely pictures inspire, 

the recipes are easy to bake - as some of you will remember: I 'tried and tested' them, and are often done with a lot of wholesome though delicious ingredients. 

 A real treat!  

I WISH YOU ALL A HAPPY EASTER!