I am grateful for the rain today. Otherwise, I may have never ventured to the Academy of Arts museum in Honolulu. What a wonderful gem of a place. The building, built in 1927, is like a Mediterranean villa. The art sits comfortably in a house, as if the owner picked it piece by loving piece. There is so much to look at! Everything from Hawaiian arts, through all parts of Asia, Europe, and finally contemporary art. In between the galleries are lovely courtyards, which seemed mystical in the light drizzle today.

This painting struck me - it's called "The Lei Maker" (Portrait of Lizzie Victor), by San Francisco artist Theodore Wores, painted in 1901. Isn't she lovely?

Sexy MOMA

Another Opening, Another Show

From the Members' Preview night of "Annie Leibovitz: A Photographer’s Life, 1990–2005" at the Legion of Honor. Saturday, March 1.

My Little Retreat

This afternoon I went to the Legion of Honor to see "Marie Antoinette and the Petit Trianon at Versailles".

What a treat - rich with history, and with an array of objects which give a glimpse of the rich life of the Queen of France, this exhibit was a wonderful escape into another world and time. The Petit Trianon was a retreat that was built on the grounds of Versaille by Louis XV, as a residence for his mistress. She died before it was completed, and his next mistress, Mme du Barry, inhabited it for a time. When the King died, his son Louis XVI, gave it to his young wife, Marie Antionette, as a gift. She loved going there, as it allowed her privacy and gave her permission to be casual, two things that were forbidden at Versailles. She could also design the gardens in the way that she pleased (in more of a rambling, English style), and decorate the way that she wanted.


She comissioned many pieces for her retreat, and each one reflected her personal taste, and showcased the artistry and craftmanship of the furniture makers, painters, and metalworkers of the time. I loved all of the details: so intricate, feminine and elegant, but with a nod to nature in respect to the beautiful, lush surroundings.

The audio tour does a great job of explaining the history of Marie Antoinette, putting to rest the many misconceptions about her, and chronicling the events leading up to her imprisonment and eventual execution. They explain the Affair of the Necklace and give a good idea of the political unrest at the time of Bastille Day and the Revolution. For all of her lavish ways, Marie Antoinette ended her life with nothing at all. She, her husband, and all but one of her beloved children died after being taken from their home, put on trial, and sent to jail. She was 38 when she was be-headed.

Throughout January and February, the museum is offering a a series of Cinema Supper Clubs entitled "The Real Drama Queens". Tonight they are showing Sofia Coppola's "Marie Antoinette", which is an adaptation of Antonia Fraser's biography "Marie Antoinette: The Journey". The other films will be: Anne of a Thousand Days, Elizabeth, Amadeus, Mary Queen of Scots, and Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (I love this choice!). I will definitely be there to see a few of these wonderful movies. What a perfect way to get ready for the upcoming films "The Other Boleyn Girl" (Feb 08) and "Mary Queen of Scots" (starting production April 08), both with Scarlett Johansson, interestingly enough. It is a year for courts and queens!

When I left the museum, with all of the images of gilded objects d'art, sparkling jewelry and intricate textiles in my head, I was amazed to see that a dense fog was surrounding the museum. It was so magical, like time had stopped. As I walked out and to my car, I half expected Marie Antoinette herself to emerge from behind one of the trees to greet me. I would have liked to have spent the rest of the afternoon with her, walking around the grounds and sharing my retreat with her the way she had shared hers with me.

South Ken and the V and A

Spending time in Knightsbridge and Chelsea makes me feel like Holly Golightly with my nose pressed up to the glass in front of Tiffany's. I love it there, and have no trouble envisioning a life in one of the well-appointed townhouses filled with antiques and shopping bags full of shoes from Emma Hope and French Sole. Exiting the South Kensington tube station, everything seems brighter and more polished than before, and even the air in the Tube around there seems less riddled with soot than elsewhere.

The place to go for the most fashion with the least strain to the pocketbook is the wonderful Victoria & Albert Museum. Some of the best exhibits I have seen in recent years have been there. Last year's exhibit on Modernism was truly amazing, and a great example of the amount of thought and work that go into curating one of their exhibits.


Aside from their permanent fasion gallery (a nice-sized although poorly lit room with a good range of displays from may eras), this season the featured exhibit is "The Golden Age of Couture", showcasing fashion from Paris and London from the 40's and 50's. Nowhere but here has it been more evident to me that I was born in the wrong generation, with the wrong social status. The couture creations are breathtaking, from the tiny wasp-waists of Dior to the meticulous tailoring of Balenciaga, to the lavishly detailed Balmain. Scattered throughout the exhibit are videos, large and small, of couture fashion shows, so that you are able to see the real magesty of the garments by their fit on the body. And then you are permitted to get up close (well, close enough) and see the tiny stitches, beadwork, and lustre of the fabrics, from duchesse satin to wool to drapy sheer silk. It is enough to make you want to chuck out your entire mass-produced wardrobe and save up to buy only couture, one outfit at a time. The middle third of the exhibit focuses on fashion sketching and photography, which I adore as much as I do the clothes. The theatricality of pale skin, blood-red lips, a black dress and a perfectly shaped hat cannot be matched. It was one of the few times in fashion that illustration and photography have been so much in sync.


After a giddy hour and a half with couture, I then spent another hour walking through the adjoining exhibit, "The Art of Lee Miller". She has always fascinated me, both as a person and for her photography. This exhibit does a nice job of pulling together the fragments of her multi-faceted life. It shows her modeling days and early years as Man Ray's muse and lover, and then moves into her world travels and photojournalism. The famous photograph of her in Hitler's bathtub is striking, as are the ones of post-Blitz London. In the end she married for a third time, and enjoyed a rural farm life, filled with famous visitors that she put to work. What a life to have led - hard to imagine one of today's fashion models moving so far beyond the runway.


One day I am going to have to take some time to explore the Asian art, silver galleries, and portraits in this enormous museum. But as long as they keep having great exhibits like these, the permanent collections may just have to wait.

Femininity, Sexuality and Isolation

Yesterday I visited the Tate Modern with Mike and James. We met at the Blackfriars Tube station, crossed the Millenium Bridge, grabbed a quick bite at the Founders' Arms, and then spent a few hours looking at art.

The Tate Modern, housed in a former power station, was designed by Herzon and de Meuron. This Swiss architecture firm is the same one that did the deYoung Museum in San Francisco. The building is huge and impressive, especially when going over the bridge. Even though the building has only been reclaimed as the museum since 2000, its current form is already a recognized part of the skyline along the Thames.

Here is something that I wish we did in America: museums are free. Not just on certain days or for certain age groups - every day. There is a donation box (suggested £3), but there is no feeling of shame if you do not have the means to give that day. What this means is that museums are for everyone, to be visited on a regular basis. For special exhibits, there is a charge (usually around £10), but you could easily spend the day wandering through the permanent collections and have your art hunger totally satiated.

I had read about the Louise Bourgeois exhibit, although I didn't know much about the sculptor before seeing her work yesterday. It was a large installation, exploring her views in relation to her family, sexuality, and her place in the world, through various mediums: painting, sculpture, and huge "rooms" with found objects inside. The sculptures were the most impressive to me - especially the marble and bronze. It's always amazing to me that something as hard as marble can be manipulated into looking like a fluid piece of fabric or supple skin, or polished to a perfect sphere, sometimes in the same piece. The overall feeling of the exhibit was dark and heavy (one of the final installations was a couple, made of stuffed fabric, fornicating in a Victorian box that was not dissimilar to a coffin), but at the same time I felt a bit disconnected from the artist. It was definitely a glimpse into the depth of her psyche, but like the Victorian box, I felt that there was something kept between us, the viewers, and her.

At 3:30pm it gets dark. As many times as I have experienced this in London, it is still a bit of a shocker. Because of this, night feels endless - we were sitting in the Nag's Head pub in Covent Garden at 4:00pm and it felt like 8:00pm. It is no wonder that the pubs and coffee bars are constantly full - you have to do something to continually warm your insides while the outside creates an environment that is best suited to a day spent in bed.

Next Stop, Tokyo

I definitely need to go to Japan. I love Japanese culture and style. I even ate a bull's penis at an izakaya restaurant in New York earlier this year. If I were offered one in South Dakota I would never eat it, but on St. Mark's Place? Sure, why not, it's Japanese!

Tonight I was surrounded with so many Japanese things. The evening started out at the Asian Art Museum with Michael. We were there for their Thursday night evening series MATCHA to see the exhibit called "Stylized Sculpture: Contemporary Japanese Fashion from the Kyoto Costume Institute".


Japanese fashion is so interesting. It often seems architectural to me, with its multiple layers, linear shape, and angles. I love what they do with fabric - they truly treat it as a surface material, like marble or clay or canvas. I personally love the most minimal design style, but when you see a dress made with an impossible number of pleats, you have to admire the engineering.

There were pieces by Issey Miyake (no one does pleats like that man, except perhaps Fortuny), Yohji Yamomoto (surprisingly, my least favorite piece in the show), Rei Kawakubo (sooooo amazing with sweaterknits, including a dress with a bustle - my favorite piece in the show) and Junya Watanabe (wonderfully dramatic).

Japanese couture can sometimes sacrifice wearablity for effect. There were some pieces that were stunning, but looked almost painful. Maybe it's because I was in New York for so long that I can't see beyond the practical - if you can't hail a cab or walk at least 5 blocks in it, you won't see me in it. And probably because I am not flat-chested, thin, and 7 feet tall, I don't own any Japanese fashion. But I sure do love to look at it.

The surprise of the evening was an exhibit by the photographer Hiroshi Sugimoto, called "History of History". I was first introduced to his work at the de Young Museum this summer. But instead of photography, this exhibit showed his inspiration. So there were fossils, artifacts, tapestries, masks...all so intricate and unique. I loved their quiet beauty.

After our museum visit, Michael and I headed to his neighborhood, the Richmond, to eat dinner at Shimo restaurant. I have been to their sister establishment, but not to the highly-touted original, so I was ready for a treat. It did not disappoint! We shared a Spicy Scallop Roll, Caterpillar Roll, and Rainbow Roll - all perfectly prepared and presented. In addition, I had 2 pieces of Uni with raw quail's egg, which is my version of heaven for the palate.


I remember when I was first starting to get into sushi, in high school. We would go to Daruma in Evanston and order California Rolls and get drunk on sake - we thought we were soooo cool, like Molly Ringwald's character in "The Breakfast Club" (which was based on my high school, so we weren't that far off).

When my sweet tooth hit later in the evening, I indulged in a treat from our friendly neighborhood Asian grocery store: Strawberry Ice Cream Mochi. I love mochi! This was something that I discovered upon moving to California. Whoever came up with the idea of putting ice cream inside rice-dough balls (making it the ultimate finger food), is a genius. I get to have both the creamy richness of ice cream and the chewiness of a gummy candy in a few small bites - yum.


Wonderful things in pretty packaging - that's Japan-style to me.

This is Not Your Grandmother's Museum

When we visited the Jewish Museum in Berlin, I was struck by the fact the the way we visit a museum today has drastically changed from the stuffy and staid experiences of the past.

There is a movement towards architecture as an integral part of the experience. I think I first noticed this at the Tate Modern in London, and most recently at the deYoung in San Francisco. The buildings are no longer just a backdrop for the exhibits, but an experience in and of themselves. Daniel Liebskind has taken this one step further by using archictecture to evoke emotion directly tied to the subject matter, in this case the Holocaust, and then the history of Judaism.

On the Lower Level, you enter into a structure of intersecting angles and tilted planes. It immediately makes you feel ungrounded and a little strange.

Behind a large door is the Holocaust Tower, a 24-meter high space lit only by natural light, and unheated. Inside, staring at the high ceiling, in the cold and unadorned room, you get a sense of hopelessness and the futile feeling of entrapment. A tall steel ladder on the wall reaches high up, but ends without reaching the top. There are small glimmers of light above and peeking through holes in the wall, but the room is mostly dark, and even when there are people in there, you feel alone. You can hear people outside, but they seem very far away.


Outside is an installation called the Garden of Exile. 49 concrete columns are filled with earth and arranged on a slanted floor. As you walk through and around them, you occasionally see another person, which can be startling. Even though you are outside, it does not feel any more liberating than the tower, especially viewing the green branches which loom high above.

The other Holocaust installation that was very unique was by Menashe Kadisman, called "Shalechet". Approaching the exhibit, you hear loud clanking sounds, almost like a hammer on a metal surface - but they are irregular sounds. You enter into a large open room and see people walking on what appears to be metal disks.

When you get closer, you realize that the discs are actually abstract faces. In order to walk in the room, you have to walk on them. And when they touch each other, the metal upon metal makes a clanking sound. This was more powerful to me than looking at photograph upon photograph of concentration camp victims. It gave me a more personal connection to the vast numbers of people lost in the war, and brought to mind the question, "How could this happen?" in a much more profound way that in ever had before.


On the other two floors, there is a history of Judaism, which is also very interactive, which is definitely a trend in museums today. We live in a world of constant change and stimulus, this type of viewing is not only to keep the kids ADD in check, it works the same way for the adults. What you come away with a very individual experience and a sense of having participated in the subject matter rather than just having it shown or dictated to you. For me, this will stay with me for a very long time.