Under a Red Roof

The Newshour with Jim Lehrer

October 23, 2009 in Admiring, Spotlighting, Watching by Colleen | Permalink

I am a woman with very few regrets. Frankly, I don’t see the point. I am glad about everything that has happened to me. Every event shapes me and my world view and presents me with opportunities to learn and grow. Take, for instance, a certain boy who was in my seventh grade P.E. class. I thought he was funny and had great hair. It was something I wanted to tell him, but I thought it too trivial, and furthermore, was a bit shy. He committed suicide shorty after this. Now, I don’t know that it would have made much of a difference to him and his reasons for taking such a drastic measure, but I certainly always appreciate a kind word, especially an unexpected one. As you might imagine, with that bit of knowledge, that I really never do know when I will see someone again, I hedge my bets and speak the truth.

It is with this same mind set that I write this post. I love The Newshour with Jim Lehrer, especially now that it comes on at 4:00, and I can have an intellectual afternoon break in front of the television. That being said, I do sometimes switch to Oprah if I’ve had enough of a topic. Don’t forget – I am a Gemini, we’re a tricky lot.

So, to The Newshour. Gosh, do I love this program. To my mind, it is serious news without taking itself too seriously (watch on Friday for Shields and Brooks, there’s almost always a laugh there). It is such a fine production, covering diverse topics, and with a depth that other news outlets lack. Since it is an hour broadcast, there is ample time to really delve into the news of the day, as well as the opportunity to present opposing view points about a topic, allowing me to make up my own mind. This was especially so during the presidential primaries last year. Every Republican and Democratic contender was invited to speak and given ample opportunity to do so. Unlike the mainstream news who only showcased who they believed to be the front runners. I don’t like being told what I should think; I can do it on my own thankyouverymuch.

My favorite aspect, however, are the correspondents. They really shine here. Each is a consummate professional: poised, highly knowledgeable, polite (some say too much so, but I disagree), and quick on their feet. They are asking the great questions before I can even think of them. I so appreciate this. As well, given the pacing of the show, I really understand a topic by the time the segment is over, rather than feeling like I’ve gotten a snippet of information that only leaves me with more questions than answers.

Another highlight is the Honor Roll, displaying, in silence, a photograph, name, rank, and hometown of deceased U.S. service personnel in the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. Though it always breaks my heart to see, I wouldn’t have it any other way. My discomfort is a small price to pay for their sacrifice in my country’s name.

As well, as someone who appreciates art, there are many interesting interviews with writers, actors, filmmakers, and artists of every stripe. I hope to one day be showcased among them.

There’s just so much goodness in one hour! Thanks Ray, Margaret, Jim, Judy, Gwen, Jeffrey, Paul, Kwame, Betty Ann, and all the others I can’t recall at the moment. Your program is very fine, and I would certainly be at a loss without it.

Herb and Dorothy

October 16, 2009 in Admiring, Inspiring, Spotlighting, Watching by Colleen | 2 comments

I am spelling out the following number for emphasis: Four thousand seven hundred eighty-two. This set of digits is hardly impressive when one considers population, drops of rain on my red roof, or annual salaries in America. However, when one ponders the fact that it is in relation to how many works of art were amassed by Herb and Dorothy Vogel in their tiny New York apartment over the course of forty years, then it expands into something nearly unfathomable. Holy smokes – 4,782!

The absolutely adorable couple (they still hold hands and find each other cute), a now retired librarian at the Brooklyn Library and a postal worker, began collecting in order to follow what was, at least initially, Herb’s passion. He worked nights at the post office, would sleep a few hours, and then go to the library and read everything he could about art, as well as take a painting class or two. Dorothy, wanting to share in her husband’s interest, decided she would paint, too. Soon, the walls of their apartment were covered in their work, but then, in 1962, after realizing they could live humbly off of Dorothy’s salary and purchase art with Herb’s, they marched forth with gusto, visiting galleries and studios all over the city and purchasing inexpensive works by unknown artists.

Their criteria were simple – they must like the piece, be able to afford it, and it had to be carried via foot, bus, or taxi to fit in their apartment. They weren’t looking to collect anything just for the sake of it; they had to love it as well, and love they did. They covered every possible surface with art: walls, ceiling, floor, amassing piles and rows, squeezing it in among their fish, cats, and turtles, a wonder of physics if the truth be told. Dorothy remarked, “Not even a toothpick could be squeezed into the apartment.” She was right.

In a bold and quite generous move, the couple decided to donate their entire collection to the National Gallery of Art in Washington D.C., the site where it all began, the first museum they visited together as husband and wife. Of all the museums clamoring for their collection, all of them willing to pay princely sums, I might add, the Vogel’s chose the National Gallery because quite simply, as Americans, it belongs to everyone. The works will never be sold and anyone can visit, for free, furthering their belief that wonderful art can be both affordable and accessible, just as it was to them.

It is a marvelous portrait of love – for each other and modern art. It made me weep at how having a benevolent spirit and following our passion is rarely about how much money we have but what we choose to do with it.

Tags: Movies

Inspirational Men

October 2, 2009 in Inspiring, Spotlighting, Watching by Colleen | 1 comment

Two great movies for you today, gems received via our Netflix queue. Oh heavens, please don’t you ever go away Netflix. What on earth would these two Portland film addicts do without you?

Let’s start with fashion and the man who works magic with red, Valentino Garavani. Forty-five years of gorgeous gowns with equally gorgeous women donning them. While I hardly have enough moolah to be able to purchase a couture gown such as these (nor an occasion to which I’d wear it), it was a sheer delight to observe a bit of the process that brings them to life. A dream in a man’s head, a sketch, and a klatch of women with talents I can only aspire to. No sewing machines, no fancy equipment, just divine talent with a needle and thread.

Follow bits of Valentino’s life since launching his career in the 1960s: the bankruptcy, the huge success, the sale of his company in the 90s, the dresses (oh the dresses!), the pugs, the houses, and one very sweet, loving, and patient man with my favorite name in the Italian language, Giancarlo, Valentino’s partner for more than fifty years.

It is a love story about style, fabric, and men who share the same exquisite passion to make women feel a bit more beautiful and, of course, glamorous. There are lots of surprises, and I shed a few tears, inspired by the drive and success of these lively and talented Italians.

And now for a little something from Italy’s neighbor, France. It is quite a different story, yet it rings of the same truths, that passion, dedication, and perseverance bring sublime rewards.

It’s a story that begins in a dimly lit dentist’s waiting room, when a young man with an aching tooth spies, in a magazine, an advertisement for the yet to be built Twin Towers. A tight rope walker, he decides, then and there, that he will walk between the towers, drawing, rather symbolically, a crisp line between the buildings. Thus, he sets forth on a plan that will take him thousands of miles and hundreds of feet above New York city.

Though the fact that he walks the tightrope is a foregone conclusion, it is a delightful journey to follow the route to his achievement. There’s footage of the preparations, including his victories over Notre Dame and the Sydney Harbor Bridge. As well, we meet his accomplices, friends and protectors, eager and willing to pay the high price to accomplish one man’s dream. Another joy to watch such determination and dedication to a particular and quite electrifying goal.

Tags: Documentaries, Movies

Julie and Julia

September 18, 2009 in Spotlighting, Watching by Colleen | 3 comments

I don’t tend to be an envious person. I know I’ve got it pretty darn good, but sometimes, as I am positively human, and therefore absolutely imperfect, my little green monster rears its tiny head. And so it did during Julie and Julia, an utterly delightful Sunday afternoon movie, if ever there was one.

The film follows Julie Powell, a rather mousy Amy Adams, as she flounders at a considerably depressing and highly unsatisfactory job. All of her friends are wildly successful, with assistants, lots of money, and the like, while she can’t seem to get it together. Save for her saint of a husband and her love of cooking, she’d be one unhappy camper.

Enter Julia Child, played by the incomparable Meryl Streep (seriously, what can’t she do?), and the seminal Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Julie decides to make, as well as blog about, all of the 524 recipes in the span of one year. 365 days. A whole lot of cooking.

In the mean time, dear Julia is furthering her exquisite love of butter and eating, in general, while she flounders a bit herself. What is she to DO with her life now that she is no longer a spy? Okay, maybe this is a slight exaggeration, but she did work for the OSS in China for Pete’s sake. I digress a bit here, as the thought of this makes me chuckle – the six foot two inch gregarious woman in China? I don’t suppose they were looking for someone inconspicuous, were they?

Anyway, I watched with rapt attention as Julie and Julia struggle, in their own ways, to find fulfillment and happiness, their days chockablock with writing, perfecting recipes, and, of course, eating. Not to mention their fantastically supportive husbands, kind, patient, loving, and sexy, too. Though they aren’t without their troubles, either: failed recipes, complicated relationships, trouble at work, and infertility among them.

And this is where I circle back to me. Me, me, me. It is my blog, after all. I could not help but identify with these women as they struggled to find someone to take an interest in their work, to share their passion, and, ultimately, to one day be published, to feel as though their time and sincere effort had not been lost or wasted.

I count myself in their fine company knowing that, first and foremost, the work is for the person doing it. Just as Julie and Julia cooked and wrote to save themselves from despair and boredom, I write to express my love for life and this wondrous third planet from the sun. Then, like them, it is my great hope that others will find my work and be inspired or tickled or perplexed by it and keep coming back for more.

But where they found success in the form of published works, television shows, and movies, I have yet to do. This is where I turn a slightly green hue, where I cry just a little bit and feel sorry for myself. Don’t fret, however, as it doesn’t last terribly long, for like the movie and these fine women in real life, I know good things are on their way and the music will turn from maudlin to cheery, and I will be reminded that life truly is sublime.

The Best of Youth

August 28, 2009 in Spotlighting, Watching by Colleen | Permalink

Have some time on your hands, say six hours or so? Would you like to learn a little Italian as well as some recent Italian history? Well then, queue up The Best of Youth and prepare to be dazzled.

The film, originally a mini-series on Italian television, follows the lives of two brothers, both brilliant and quite different in temperament, Nicola and Matteo Carati. The story begins in 1966, as the brothers prepare for exams and a summer of traveling the continent with their friends. Life takes a turn, however, when the idealistic Matteo discovers a young woman named Giorgia victimized by electric shock at an internship. Rather impulsively (a theme for him), he takes her from the hospital and the brothers embark on a journey to bring her home.

When the plan goes awry and Giorgia is taken by the authorities, the brothers, rather than resume their voyage, part company, both literally and metaphorically. Matteo abandons his plans to become a doctor, joining the army and later the police, while Nicola travels to Norway, then back to Italy to help with the horrible flooding of Florence. It is there that he meets and falls in love with Guilia, a pianist with violent communist leanings, while becoming a psychiatrist.

It is a story full of love, heartache, laughter, and surprises, exploring the bonds of family and friendship through the lens of forty years of Italian history (so much I didn’t know!). A marvelous look at the beautiful people, landmarks, and landscapes, it is a story that will stay with me for a long time.