Up On the Roof

•08/02/10 • 3 Comments

 

Were one in the market for something airy and light, this skyward retreat from the teeming masses that are so annoyingly evident these days, might be just the thing. The aforementioned lilliputian manor in Windsor, a penthouse with a rooftop terrace, promises to fortify, placate and soothe the troubled brow. Priced for the recession at a modest £1.6m, it has all the amenities:

LOOKS The contemporary riverside penthouses in Royal Windsor Quay have spectacular covered roof terraces with majestic views of the Thames, Windsor Castle, Eton College and the Berkshire countryside.

CHARM The modern living space, which has luxurious dark oak flooring, polished porcelain, Italian marble, and granite and steel surfaces, opens through a glazed partition onto the stunning terrace.

ESSENTIALS The Windsor area is home to a high concentration of Michelin-starred restaurants, including Heston Blumenthal’s Fat Duck in Bray.

What could be more appropriate to the discriminating aesthete? On a splendid midsummer’s night, following a round of libations on the terrace, one could literally float down to the streets like that other celestial creature, Mary Poppins, to join friends at the awaiting table at Fat Duck for a repast of snail porridge, liquorice-poached salmon and a finish of a plump taffety tart of caramelized apple, fennel, rose and candied Lemon. It is almost certain that a time “half mad with hilarity” as Lady Diana Manners might say, would ensue.

 

Telegraph: Properties (Savills, 01344 295 375, http://www.savills.co.uk)

 

 

Atwitter Over A Tweet

•07/31/10 • 7 Comments

 

Was it just yesterday that I learned Mad Men was following the Errant Aesthete?

Imagine that. Had devilishly handsome or, depending on the degree of your obsession, fatally attractive, Don Draper, sauntered up to me at one of Manhattan’s poshest watering holes, wearing a smile, savoring a smoke, and offering to buy me a drink, I couldn’t have been more over the moon. Well, maybe a dinner … with breakfast to follow might have had me skipping in rose-colored streamers across the galaxy. The giddiness of it all is fully weighted, of course, with the realization that some guileless young intern stumbled upon my Mad Men post of a few days ago and as a media savvy sort, sent the dutifully smart gesture of appreciation:

 

Mad Men (@Mad_Men) is now following your tweets (@ErrantAesthete) on Twitter.

 

What can I say? Yowza comes to mind. Okay I admit it. I’m hopelessly beholden, helplessly smitten and shackled forevermore to my twitter tryst, chaste though it may be, knowing full well, I am, alas, but one of many. Nevertheless, I fervently join the legions of the faithful in proclaiming my undying love and devotion to the terribly tarnished and magnificently flawed hero of girlish, gayish and matronly dreams — Don (Dreamboat) Draper.

One might say I’m not all that unlike the dewy-eyed girl with a similar fixation, Judy Garland, singing You Made Me Love You, a tribute to her crushingly gorgeous fantasy, matinee idol, Clark Gable.

I didn’t want to do it …

I didn’t want to do it.

I am a bit long in the tooth for such girly ardor, but nothing sets the heart soaring, or pumping, like a robust flutter. And lest you think me, hopelessly, mawkish, do consider those prehistoric times (BC – before computers) of innocence, when unapologetic yearnings of love were welcomed, embraced and emulated, not scorned and ridiculed as in the current climate of snark, sneers and disillusionment.

For the uninitiated who have never heard of Mad Men, and who might you be?, the season premiere last Sunday was bookended by reporters’ interviews with the mysterious and charming main “Mad Man” himself. After a horrendous profile of Draper in Advertising Age makes the fledgling firm look bad, ad honcho Bert Cooper orders Don to try again with “my man at The Wall Street Journal.”

In a series about personal and professional facades, Sunday’s show wraps in how the press influences perception, and how so much of that narrative can be manipulated. According to the review:

 

“Sunday night closed with Draper
charming the cheap suit right off the Journal reporter,
thanks to a brash tale of how Don and his cohorts
orchestrated their exit from their former firm. That’s
how we know the old Don – confident, womanizing,
creative as hell – is back after some low moments
of self-doubt. And therein also lies a lesson that
applies equally for ad men pitching Glo-Coat floor
cleaner, and for interview subjects:
give us a good yarn,
and we’re putty
in your hands.”

 

The legendary Wall Street Journal included the above hedcut (in newspaper lingo, that’s short for “headline cut”) of Draper with a story it ran on July 26, 2010. The Journal was careful to point out that its signature dot-ink portraits weren’t launched until 1979, well after the period of this season’s “Mad Men” series of 1964.

Nevertheless, they are the first to admit that Draper’s hedcut looks pretty cool. And you, dear readers? What do you think?

 

 

Afternoon Delight

•07/29/10 • 5 Comments

 

 

“Then followed

that beautiful season

…Summer….

Filled was the air

with a dreamy

and magical light;

and the landscape

lay as if new created

in all the freshness

of childhood.”

 

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 

It was the summer of 1976. And this melodious little tune with the suggestive lyrics was playing on the radio. Afternoon Delight.A song everyone remembers by a band (Starland Vocal Band) everyone quickly forgot.

Like the heat, uncharacteristically hot that summer, Afternoon Delight soared to number one on July 10. Written by Bill Danoff, the title was rumored to have come from a spicy (translation: risqué) menu item of the same name at Clyde’s restaurant in Georgetown. Maybe you’ve been there. Maybe you had a little afternoon delight of your own.

 

VIEW

 

 

Video Emcee: Everyone’s favorite teen idol of the 70′s, David Cassidy aka: Keith Partridge.
Photographer Inge Morath, sunbathes by a swimming pool next to the sea in Acapulco. (Photo: Slim Aarons)

 

 

Fawning for Fame

•07/28/10 • 5 Comments

 

The Art of Presentation or packaging oneself for maximum exposure is hardly a new phenomena. More than two thousand years after the ruler, Augustus, used for the very first time, the minting technique to bring his face to the people, the possibilities for getting one’s picture shown in public have dominated the mainstream.

In today’s media society, television fare like Entourage, American Idol, Project Runway, Bethenny Getting Married?, and the always effortlessly cool Mad Men fill the airwaves, glorifying fame and all its accompanying excesses. Today, one needs to go no further for a bit of recognition and renown than to the Internets’ own über publicist, the infamous Facebook, a gathering of one hundred and fifty million plus strangers, who are ready to befriend, share and exchange the most banal of pleasantries and intimate of secrets, launching even the lowest of us to the digital Walk of Fame.

Never before have consumers consumed so much: photo ops, press kits, fashion layouts, publicity tours, media interviews, behind-the-scenes stagings where highly customized presentations are carefully choreographed and rigidly controlled to create a favorable impression in anointing the next great celebrity wonder.

With literally hundreds of different media outlets competing for the attention of viewers, readers and listeners, a great deal of importance is attached to presenting oneself in the best possible light, no matter how distant the truth. Those who know how to present themselves, after all, get noticed, and a whole raft of consultants, posses, coaches, stylists and publicists make sure that their protégé and, by association, themselves, garner a spot at the celebrated top.

For a bit of fanciful fun, three men out of history, all angling for fame and immortality, were chosen as studies in the art of presentation, two from the middle ages (a nobleman and a merchant) and the third (an actor) from the twenty-first century.

Consider, if you will, the valued back story for the middle ages. Although the printing press was introduced in 1440, shifting forever the power of the few to the many, it was the portrait paintings of that time that primarily memorialized and publicized the rich, the powerful and subsequently, the middle class.

Those looking for fame sought out the expert brush strokes of master artisans to transform the unknown and ordinary into a veritable superstar. One of the preeminent and official court painters of his day, the Medici appointed Angiolo Torri Bronzino (1503-1572) usually known as Il Bronzino, was celebrated as the master magician of the brush. His portrait figures—often read as static, elegant, and stylish exemplars of unemotional haughtiness and assurance—influenced the course of European court portraiture for a century.

Who better than Il Bronzino to wave his magic brush and usher In instant celebrity. In a Portrait of a Young Man, the viewer is accosted by the arresting and imperious gaze of an unidentified young Florentine. The overweening pomposity is perfectly captured in the all consuming self-important stare, not to the viewer, who is surely beneath the nobleman’s station, but to that private place where only the truly anointed brood.

The elegant young man wears a black satin doublet, with fashionably slashed sleeves, over a white “camicia” with a ruffled collar, accented with a brilliant blue belt. Both his hat and the ties supporting his codpiece are decorated with gold aglets, and he wears one ring. A sign of availability, perhaps? He stands between an elaborately decorated table and chair within an architectural setting meant to suggest a Florentine palace. Naturally.

His refined facial features and bearing are unmistakable, exuding a bravado and confidence that was sure to capture hearts, attention, benefactors and untold riches. One simple painting by the esteemed Il Bronzino was enough to catapult the young Florentine into the exalted courts of his own exaggerated imagination.

 

 

The second study in self-absorption, aka The Art of Presentation, is the meticulously detailed portrait of a proud young man whose standing in society is unknown, although staged here for desired effect. From the Oriental rug, the vase filled with cloves and rosemary, the graceful balance and the golden table clock to the hand stamp bearing the tradesman’s mark, Georg Gisze, a German living in London at the time, became, as a result of this portrait, a Mercator doctus, a merchant on the cutting-edge of society.

Although born in Danzig, Gisze wanted to be presented as a successful merchant on the London trading exchange in order to convey a certain image of himself to the inner circle of merchants in the City. The contracts and many other objects surrounding the merchant are meant, above all, to mark him out as an extremely credible person in money matters and a good connoisseur of world markets. This was of great importance during the period of rule of Henry VIII, since it was at this time that the first wave of globalisation was taking place.

Again, the portrait and carefully staged presentation, elevated the subject to the heights of his choosing.

Finally, the third young man on the way up, not a hedge fund manager as you might expect, but one whose fates are equally skewed between fame and famine — the actor. With the technological advances of the 21st century, a carefully conceived film designed to showcase the style, taste, panache and talents of the little known rookie is the delivery device of choice in the new world order of media. The prestigious Wall Street Journal went on location for a fashion shoot recently, entitled “A Place in the Sun,” with upcoming star, indie actor Alessandro Nivola, sharing with viewers, his carefully solicited thoughts on acting.

Naturally, an entire production crew was called out for the sumptuously-styled exotic locale in what appears to be the Hollywood Hills, poolside, of course (a requisite), with a beautiful model (also requisite) in tow, a cherry red top-down Mercedes, a shamelessly cute puppy, a few choice props, like a guitar, to convey the actor’s softer, poetic side and brightly colored pool floats for a spontaneously staged dip, a fashionable wardrobe of clothes, hats, shades and boat shoes (it is after all a fashion shoot), the always essential presence of a catering crew, and a full blown entourage of stylists, agents, publicists, makeup artists, wardrobe consultants, animal trainers, etc. In short, a posse that would send Vincent Chase and pals back to Queens. Here in the famed hills of Hollywood, all are gathered together on a blindingly beautiful day in paradise, overlooking the palms and pools of the rich and famous, to christen, yet, another newcomer to the pantheon of celebrated self-importance.

 

WSJ: A MODEL MAN

 

How far we’ve come from a few carefully chosen oils on canvas. Or have we?

 

Portrait of a Young Man by Angiolo Torri Bronzino, Florence, 1530.
Portrait of the merchant Georg Gisze by Hans Holbein, Gemäldegalerie Berlin, 1532.

 

 

A Mad Men State of Mind

•07/27/10 • 12 Comments

 

Who is Don Draper?

That has yet to be revealed.

But there’s no mystery
as to the time, place and era
when Mad Men ruled.

A wonderfully curated
Photo Gallery
from Slate.

 

 

NEW YORK CITY—Manhattan and St. Patrick’s Cathedral’s steeples, 1962.

 

 

NEW YORK CITY—The McCann Erickson Agency on Madison Avenue, 1959.

 

 

DEARBORN, Mich.—During the filming of an advertisement for the Ford Motor Company, 1959.

 

 

NEW YORK CITY—David Ogilvy at an awards dinner at the Hotel Roosevelt, 1965.

 

 

LONDON—Baker Street Underground station, 1959.

 

 

HOLLYWOOD, Calif.—Marilyn Monroe resting between takes during a photographic studio session for the making of the film The Misfits, 1960.

 

 

NEW YORK CITY—Grey Group Advertising, 1959.

 

 

NEW YORK CITY—Mrs. O. Kaletsch promenades her miniature poodle in the upper residential area of Fifth Avenue, 1958.

 

 

NEW YORK CITY—The Forum restaurant, 1962.

 

 

NEW YORK CITY—A woman reading on the subway, 1957.

 

 

NEW YORK CITY—A back table at The Five Spot. From left to right: sculptor David Smith, painter Helen Frankenthaler (back to camera), art guru Frank O’Hara, painter Larry Rivers, painter Grace Harrington, unidentified man, sculptor Anita Huffington, and poet Kenneth Koch, 1957.

 

 

CHICAGO—1962.

 

 

A brainstorming session at BBDO advertising agency, late 1950s.

 

 

NEW YORK CITY—Bankers Trust, 1960.

 

 

NEW YORK CITY—An office party, 1966.

 

 

FORT WORTH, Texas—1963.

 

 

UNITED STATES—Grey Advertising, 1959.

 

 

 

NEW YORK CITY—A literary cocktail party at George Plimpton’s Upper East Side apartment. Plimpton is seated at left with literary agent Maggie Abbott next to him. At top, left to right: Jonathan Miller, Gore Vidal, Ricky Leacock, Robert Laskey, and Paul Heller. In background, left to right: Ralph Ellison and Peter Matthiessen. Center: Walter Bernstein (seated on couch with back to camera), Sydney Lumet (behind Bernstein to right), Mario Puzo (leaning against mirror), Jack Richardson (tall man, front, right foreground), Arthur Kopit (foreground, right), Frank Perry (left of Kopit), Eleanor Perry (left of Frank), Arthur Penn (obscured behind Eleanor), and Truman Capote (center on couch), 1963.

 

 

“You make
a living
perpetuating
the great
lie!

 

How
do you
sleep
at night?”

 

“On a
bed
of
money.”

 

 

Photos (Top): SÃO PAULO, Brazil—1960.
(Bottom): LOS ANGELES—1959.

 

 

Overheard

•07/23/10 • 6 Comments

 

“It is
always
the dress,
it is never,
never
the girl.

I’m just a
good
clothes
hanger.”

 

So said the model, muse and exquisitely turned out Swedish beauty, Lisa Fonssagrives, in a 1949 article for Time magazine. With her seventeen inch waistline and early training in ballet, she was considered by many to be the world’s first supermodel, exuding a grace and poise that gave a classical dignity to anything she wore.

Posed by the photographic elites of her day, George Hoyningen-Huene, Man Ray, Horst, Erwin Blumenfeld, George Platt-Lynes, Richard Avedon, Edgar de Evia, and husbands, Fernand Fonssagrives and Irving Penn, she exalted in a career she called “still dancing.”

Described as “the highest paid, highest praised, high fashion model in the business,” she had a remarkably practical down-to-earth attitude. Asked how she maintained her figure, she always insisted on the importance of eating in small quantities. She would at times consume as many as ten tiny meals a day. To her a tiny meal might mean only six grapes, a single slice of cheese, one cracker and half a glass of wine. Always eating, but never anything much. So wonderfully French.

 

 

 

This Day’s Notable Aesthetic

•07/20/10 • 6 Comments

 

One of the most seminal photographers of the 20′s and 30′s, regarded by many as the greatest master of photographic lighting who ever lived, was also one of its most eminent practitioners in the art of Illusion. George Hoyningen-Huene was a journeyman long before he came into his own as one of the most sought-after fashion phtographers of his day photographing for Vogue, Vanity Fair and Harper’s Bazaar in what came to be known as the “cult of the classical.”

Working in huge film studios and using whatever lighting worked best, from huge theatrical spots to, on at least one occasion, an ordinary flashlight, Hoyningen-Huene perfected the art of lighting to transmit emotion, gesture and setting.

Although his photographs always appeared the epitome of casual elegance, they were carefully composed, accentuating the style and texture of individual garments, while juxtaposing angular shapes and flowing curves, to create a masterpiece of fashion timelessness.

Rather than merely making a pictorial record of the clothing worn by his models, he would integrate the posed model into an evocative scene through atmosphere, lighting, and background.

In his studios, he could create any illusion, like the one above, for example, where he simulated a beach scene complete with sun and sand for the two models gazing out over the water. No prop escaped his attention. He introduced automobiles, chairs, plants, and sunshades on the set, whatever might suggest real life and real fashions being shot outdoors.

This famous photograph of a pair of bathers, published in July, 1930, shows a young man and woman in bathing suits who seem to be on a diving board looking out over the sea. Idyllic as the setting may seem, the far more interesting truth reveals that the photo was taken on the roof of Vogue’s photo studio on the Champs-Elysees in Paris. The models were seated on boxes, and the low wall surrounding the roof, rendered slightly out of focus, created the illusion of the sea and its horizon.

Another little known fact about this infamous photo; the male model was Huene’s assistant, Horst P. Horst, who went on to become an incredible fashion photographer in his own right.