Studio 54

The Guardian has this gallery of photos by Swedish photographer Hasse Persson, from the infamous nightclub Studio 54 in New York. The nightclub was sold in 1980 or 1981 and lost some of its glamour, but continued to operate to 1988 or 1991 (the facts depend on what source you go to).

I actually went there in 1983. Kind of. I was one of a plane load of Swedish foreign exchange students, about to be transported to small towns all across the US, having a few days of assembly and preparation in New York. One of the girls was determined to go to Studio 54 and I, and two others, joined her late one night in a taxi that let us off on the other side of the street. It was, in my memory, a rather grey, dull street, and there was a quiet queue in front of a rather unassuming entrance. We stood there, meekly, our shoulder bags cluched in front of us, for ten minutes or so - I guess the three of us hangers-on were waiting for the girl in charge to take an initiative; remember, we were only 16 at the time.

In the end, we walked back to the hotell without even crossing the street. Just as well, I think. I don´t suppose Bianca Jagger, Brooke Shields, and Andy Warhol still went there anyway. Or that they would have let us in. On the way, we saw the steam rise from under the street (massive ambience!), bought an unexpectedly salty pretzel (still don´t like them), and just gawked.

And that´s all there was to that.

Wanting to look like someone else

Here is an interesting project that I just found. The blogger Nell Frizzell, a British journalist, is - using whatever she has at hand - making doppelgänger portraits of herself, trying to resemble celebrities, painted portraits, and sometimes herself as young or even her father. It really drew me in, and it makes me realize that however much we try to copy someone´s style or dress too look a certain way (some seem to think a hairstyle can radically alter a face), in the end, we will look like ourselves anyway. Our own face and body are the strongest ingredients we bring to any new look we try, and it´s just as well to try to make friends with them.

Aging Gracefully

We had a big party on January 27, when the mum-in-law celebrated her 95th birthday. She has not been well since about a week before Christmas, but luckily, she held herself up, and with style too. My brother & sister-in-law came up and helped her fix everything and the husband and I could relax a little and feel like guests. Friends and family gathered for birthday fika in the afternoon, and then my sister-in-law made a great dinner for the closest family.

The mum-in-law was a professional seamstress for most of her working life, and her closets are brimming with beautiful clothes, most of which, unfortunately, she has shrunk to much to fill out. That´s what happens, even one´s feet become smaller, apparently. But this dress, a black lace number with a Spanish vibe (I think she made it after she started going to Spain with her partner Ove, in the late 90´s), fit perfectly. The sister-in-law helped her fix her hair, and you know, as long as she sat, you wouldn´t have guessed her age within fifteen years. She was - no competition, and I´m not exaggerating one little bit - by far the best dressed, most elegant and beautiful woman in the room. She may be old and a bit wrinkly (but don´t tell her, she is nearly blind and claims to be wrinkle-free) but that bone structure doesn´t age one bit.

I had to make this sketch of her from a photo my other sister-in-law took, just to show you an impression of what I have to hold up as a model for myself every day. I know she looks like she is facebooking, but that´s her asthma medication she is about to take, before the guests arrive. She had a surprise guest: the former mayor, who recently read and wrote about her memoir in the local paper, came to pay his respects, and I understand he made a very nice speech for her (but that was before we got there, being still young enough to have to work on a weekday...).

Read about Bill Nighy!

"He has a thing for Berkeley Square. “I love studying the plane trees. They overwhelm me. As you get older you feel you need to pay more attention to what is around you and relish it. I’m greedy for beauty.” He concedes that his perfect day is really “wandering about London on my own. I built my life around not being in a hurry.”"Bill Nighy

... who says this in a great interview in the Guardian. I love him, a great actor and he seems like a wise and nice guy, too! 

Monsters!

You must check this out: the Monster Project! Sounds like some dedicated artists - dedicated to teaching and inspiring the very young.

Outing with Mulle

I took a flight across Sweden this past weekend, to visit my sister and her family. It was a quick visit, but it´s so hard to organize longer visits, for all kinds of reasons, that I decided that quick and often must be better than long and seldom. Also, being childless and well into middle age, I do find the energy of my two nephews (they are five and eight) a bit overwhelming. As it was, I left on Sunday feeling more sad than relieved to part and quite eager to come again. Which is as it should be.

It is a whole different climate down there; Sweden is a long country, or, if you think of north as up, tall. I came from freezing temperatures, near snowing, to a comfortable 15 something degrees (I have known summers that never were any warmer). When I tell people I am going to Gothenburg, they think I am going to the city, but my sister lives in a small village and it´s more like going out into the country, with farms and woods. You meet horses on every path, and on a walk we met a beekeeper giving his bees medicine, some kind of acidious mixture. The children have no fear at all - unlike their parents and their aunt, who stayed well clear of any irritated bees. (The beekeeper had pacified them with smoke before he let the boys come closer.)

The whole family is active in the Swedish Outdoors Association (Friluftsfrämjandet), and I got to come along to Mulle-school (= Mulle is a kind of troll that teaches children between five and seven about the forest, with the help of mums and dads, of course). I never went to Mulle-school myself, but it´s existed since the late fifties.

It was great fun, although I did feel a bit misplaced. The children got to collect leaves, talk about trees, fika (this seems to be the best part!) and then followed a small brook from a waterfall to see where it went (into a lake). One of the teachers gave them all buckets and asked "what can you do with a bucket?"; one girl said "build your own brook!" and all the children immediately started filling their buckets and empty them a few meters up on dry land. Then someone found a pair of man´s underpants left behind and hanging in a bush, and decided they needed to be watered as well. It was highly entertaining, not just to participate, but to watch.

The Mulle-school has its own blogg, and even auntie Viktoria is caught on one or two snaps, looking a bit off (I blame it on lack of sleep, from which I suffer most weekends). I didn´t bring my drawing things, but made a kind of sketch/map of the day on the flight back.

Moore, Roger Moore

Figured I needed a picture of the man for this post and thought:
I´ll draw one! Oh, the arrogance... 

I have a soft spot in my heart for Roger Moore. To me, he is the ultimate Bond, as he did the role when I was little. He is the reason I was also very fond of Pierce Brosnan, who is the Bond since most like him. Not that I don´t adore Daniel Craig, you understand, but he is a whole different sort of creature.

I have seen very little else with Roger Moore, "The Persuaders", one episode of "The Saint", and one film where he played some colonel or other. I don´t suppose he is the most gifted actor that ever lived, and he seems to suppose so, too. Just read this interview, I get the impression that he is such a very nice man. Would love to have dinner with him!