more art, more Fall

Here in Hudson, one can't miss the season ... this is one of the best, spookiest Halloween sights ever, surely.

But just in case any one had missed it - and coming from the heat of California, that would be excusable - try this shop doorway -

or simply an outdoor wear store.

Today was for Frederic Church's Olana, with all its Orientalist taste - "taste" -

but especially the Frederic Church: Global Artist show (I recommend the book that accompanies this, although, being Heavy, it isn't with me).  Although only two rooms, they were perfect rooms, and contained a lot of stuff I've never seen in person before - a good deal of it from the Smithsonian.  It was great to see this early (1844-45) Hudson Iron Works,

and - here's just a lovely corner of it - his 1858 Cayambe, with what looks like some ancient Maya art work ...

and of course, after looking at Cole's brush work yesterday, one might wonder what his pupil would do with rushing water (at Niagara, no less).

From his bedroom, one can see a kind of summerhouse structure ...

... an installation by Ellen Harvey, Winter in the Summer House, which show an invented glacial landscape (supposedly illuminated by sunlight filtering through the lines, but it was a dark day, and there wasn't any).

Then down for a walk by the lake, and up to the view from Crown Hill Road - which FC constructed so that one could see Olana well.

Ah, the leaves, the leaves ...this is so unquestionably my favorite season.

 

Hartford - mostly details

I've known for years that the Wadsworth Athenauem, in Hartford CT, was a major collection that I'd never managed to visit - despite a strangled plan or two - but I made it there, at last, and it was more than well worth it.  And although Hartford itself seemed like a wasteland of tall financial services buildings when I drove in last night, today it revealed itself to have some magnificent buildings and history - and it seems to be a city with a good deal of progressive community energy (I liked the sign outside the First/United Church of Christ that read "Radical to the Roots since 1632").

The Wadsworth itself (and yes, it calls itself The Wadsworth - I thought it would be The Athenaeum, like the club) was magnificent,

with the main hall being an obvious site for wedding photos ...

There's a small, and eclectic, but rather good collection of Victorian paintings: a Black servant in Thomas Faed's From Hand to Mouth - He Was One of The Few Who Would Not Beg (1879) about the pride of an itinerant man with two children and a monkey (gobbling cabbage leaves) - we've seen him in Faed's painting of a village school, too.  

Some rather lurid bits of weaving apparatus - and a dove - and a weirdly carved chair - in Holman Hunt's Lady of Shalott;

a hand and some flower petals in Leighton's Hercules Wrestling with Death for the Body of Alcestis.

At about this point, the museum guard came and asked me if I was particularly interested in British art, because their really good collection was of American art ... and I explained in my Best British Accent that I'd especially wanted to come and see these ... and a painting that for some strange reason was down with furniture on the floor below, Thomas Armstrong's lovely aesthetic interior, The Lesson (1865).

But why is Mama holding an orange??

The American collection is, of course, superb.  But I was especially struck by details of paint, rather than things: Thomas Cole's loose brushwork painting a waterfall in Kaaterskill Falls (1826);

Frederic Church's rather splotchy foliage (and a little bird) in Mountains of Ecuador.

I liked these two guys in Ashley Durand's View toward the Hudson Valley (1851),

... and here I am in Hudson, in an AirBnB that manages to disguise its similarity to a grad school apartment by being painted a very, very rich dark blue, and by scattering a remarkably large number of pillows with octopuses on them. In Hudson?

 

morning fog

 

Getting up at 3.15 a.m. to drive to LAX for an early flight made for very easy driving - until it didn't.  I'd just crossed Santa Monica Boulevard when I was moving through a thick, thick band of sea fog ... which then lifted halfway down La Cienega.  But it was very autumnal and not a little scary for a good few miles.  Once I was above it, the whole band was visible in a thick drift below ...

October

It was foggy this morning, and there was quite a thick dew - I'd definitely think that this was autumn, if the temperature wasn't due to hit 99 tomorrow, and 100 at the weekend ...

 

the ruins in the neighborhood

If only all the neo-classicism that is being spuriously erected in DC could suffer the same fate ... but this is just one more house being stripped, flipped, updated.  This neighborhood is under a state of permanent reconstruction: you wouldn't think that there was inflation, or a high mortgage rate.  Part of this phenomenon is that when we bought here, thirteen - nearly fourteen - years ago, there were a lot of old family houses, and as people our age and a little older downsize or move on, so there's what a realtor would call plenty of scope for these properties to be Reimagined.  The result is a constant parade of workers and dumpsters and portapotties and cement mixers and pool installers and all the rest of it.  I doubt that these crumbling pillars are destined for recycling ...

 

fall geranium

The garden is starting to look a bit grey and faded and fin de saison, and various plants have died that one wishes hadn't died, and so some areas just look ... bare.  It's been far too hot an end to the summer, and the temperature is due to hit unpleasant heights this weekend again (is this better than all the rain in Santa Fe?  Alice is heading there tomorrow, and will report back.). But here, at least, there are a couple of geraniums on their second, or fifth, or tenth go-around blooming, and I celebrate them...

 

... and back to the library

This is not a heading designed to open up some glib reference to the Book of Nature, but - as plenty of you will recognize from this image - a celebration of getting back into the Huntington.  Over the past far-too-many years, it's been far too rare a thing to get there: Covid, of course, but before and after that, the endless demands of chairing and being DGS, and despite my avowed intent to clear a weekly library and research day, that happened more in theory than in practice.  But now that I'm on leave, I can head over very easily to my very favorite library ... or rather, what would be my favorite library if it wasn't currently undergoing so much reconstruction and earthquake retrofitting and the like that the benefits of being able to access what I need on open shelves aren't, alas, available.  However, the sheer pleasure of working in uninterrupted quiet was there; as was the pleasure of coming outside at the end of the working day and seeing flowering trees and mountains; as was this further pleasurable treat of a bamboo-filled courtyard on the way to the reading room ...there used to be a second such court, where one could sit and eat one's lunch, but unfortunately this encouraged Rodents, and alas the bamboo in that particular space is no more.