tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5342551048350229272024-03-05T01:20:04.336-08:00 Stevie's Artisans Urban Folk Art with Traveling Trudeau
Stephanie Trudeau's Fun Travel, Good Food, Cool Stuff...Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-23190667833384780052014-07-24T19:02:00.001-07:002014-07-24T19:12:18.897-07:00Festa, Family and Food Presentations<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: large;">This is the proposal I send out to Italian-American cultural groups to interest them in my presentations. I gave a presentation to an Italian Language club in May at Our Lady of Grace Church in Gravesend, Brooklyn. I'm returning to their group in September to talk about another passion: Regional Italian Cuisine.</span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">FESTA, FAMILY AND FOOD</span></b><br />
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<b>The Origins & Traditions of Three Italian Festivals<i> </i></b></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Fulbright Project <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Stephanie Trudeau<br />
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<b><i><u><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">About the Presentation</span></u></i></b><i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">:</span></i></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This presentation is
an examination of the evolution and continuity of the cultural traditions of
three saints’ feasts, the Gigli in Nola, the Ceri in Gubbio and St. Joseph’s
feast in Salemi, Sicily. These festivals unite their communities in creative,
cooperative effort toward a common goal and the feasts’ artwork, music and
celebratory foods illustrate and symbolize their historical tales of heroic
sacrifice and redemption. The enduring strength of these feasts may be because
they reinforce the pride and identity of the citizens of communities so
impoverished in the past that it gave impetus to the Italian diaspora of the
late 19th century. The feasts celebrate suffering, rejoicing and survival, and
their folk art serves to reshape historical narratives and social identities in
a modern society. This nine-month research project examined the evolution of
these feasts from pagan rites to Christian celebrations, their artwork
combining contemporary design with the baroque, all serving as expressions of
cultural identity.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The photographs and
commentary bring to life the elements of the feasts’ preparations and celebrations:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Women and their
daughters make bread, crafted in myriad shapes and forms, as the principal
element used to decorate the altars and banquet tables created for St. Joseph’s
feast. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Papier-mâché is the
art form used to create ornately sculpted facades for the 85-foot towers -
the <i>gigli </i>- carried on the shoulders of men through the
streets of Nola to celebrate the <i>Festa dei Gigli. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The<i> Ceri</i> is
a race through the streets of Gubbio of three huge wooden cylinders, each
crowned with a statue of a saint and also borne on the shoulders of a nine-man
team. Men and their sons carry on the traditions of both the <i>Gigli </i>and
the <i>Ceri</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The duration of the
presentation is about 45 minutes with a half-hour Q&A period.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><u><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">About the Presenter</span></u></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">:</span></i></b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Stephanie Trudeau is a
singer/actress/writer who worked nine years as a music educator at several
Catholic elementary schools in Brooklyn. After completing her B.S. in 2005 on
the History and Performance of American Popular Song, she began a research
project on the continuity of Italian culture and traditions in Italian-American
communities. In 2006 she was awarded a Fulbright Scholarship to Italy to
continue her Festa research, in which she compared and contrasted the
traditions of the feasts as they are celebrated in both Italy and the U.S.
After completing her Fulbright she began working at The Bronx Museum of the
Arts as manager of the museum book/gift shop. After leaving the Bronx Museum
Stephanie created a company, Stevie’s Artisans Urban Folk Art, which sells the
work of four artisans. She has presented her Festa photos at DeVry College in
New Jersey, The Brooklyn Historical Society and The Italian American Historical
Society of Providence, RI. Her article, <i>Born to Giglio, </i>published
in 2005 in “Voices, The Journal of New York Folklore,” was the start of this
Festa journey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The following
introduction was used by the Italian American Museum for a recent speaking
engagement: The Italian American Museum
invites you to a photo presentation of a Fulbright project entitled,
"Festa, Family and Food." Please join us as Fulbright scholar
Stephanie Trudeau presents a lecture with power point presentation on the
history and cultural significance of three saints’ festivals celebrated in
Italy and in Italian-American communities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-9559856377065436412014-07-24T18:18:00.001-07:002014-07-24T19:13:56.833-07:00Naples Pizza Party, Day 4<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Monday, Day 4 – Herculaneum and Party over.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdGQuCMidDZgUuqFJfKqMbvfOvPXn4Mapj5FH1-FCQHTVSjbWd06rsCxaFLXthlI0v4zWORZ5TmYBcme18FsF9RKpxtFTQDIRXPh-68Kh3hNz4E413zT5gS1xeK33mdzxYjJ8-kL_oghI/s1600/Herculaneum+web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdGQuCMidDZgUuqFJfKqMbvfOvPXn4Mapj5FH1-FCQHTVSjbWd06rsCxaFLXthlI0v4zWORZ5TmYBcme18FsF9RKpxtFTQDIRXPh-68Kh3hNz4E413zT5gS1xeK33mdzxYjJ8-kL_oghI/s1600/Herculaneum+web.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Originally the plan was to all take
a train to either Pompeii or Herculaneum and then lunch nearby – preferably
pizza in keeping with Sharon’s birthday theme. We decided on Herculaneum
because a few of us had already been to Pompeii. Before heading to the train
station in the mini van the concierge had called for us, Aurel suggested Anna
ask our driver what he would charge to actually take us to Herculaneum. He said 70
euros or 10 euros each. The driver then offered to wait while we toured the ruins
and then take us to lunch in Sorrento. Anna negotiated 210 euros total<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- 30 euros each. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Herculaneum is amazing in ways very
different from what I remembered of Pompeii. The area of ruins is smaller and
more compact. Unlike Pompeii, Herculaneum was a sea side resort, not a
commercial city. Smaller villas – the equivalent of beach cottages. There are
lots of tall walls still standing with charcoaled door lintels remaining from the
Vesuvius eruption of 79 AD. Terrific mosaic floors and vivid red walls that are
as fresh as yesterday. It had rained that morning and the grass and mosses were
an amazing green. The scent of blooming mimosa, oranges and lemons lingered in
the air. Spring comes earlier in Naples and the colors, scents and seaside
setting reminded me of Selunite’s Greek ruins in Sicily. The recurring
Neapolitan theme of Life and Death was heavy in the air. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">We drove to Sorrento in a downpour.
Eight years ago I traveled from Naples to Sorrento by train – a journey through
lots of dreary towns. This time we drove along the winding coast - a route that
was a mini and less scary version of the Amalfi Coast drive. We arrived in
Sorrento around 3:30 and of course, everything was closed. Monday afternoon in
the off-season. We drove around a bit and then found a small
pizzeria/ristorante open just on the town’s central piazza. It looked dreadful
and uninviting and most likely would have been awful anywhere else, but
unlikely places in Italy often reward you with gastronomic pleasures. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Marguerita Pizza as a starter – the
brick oven was prominently placed in the front of the restaurant. I had pasta fagiole
( a stew of small tubes of pasta with cranberry beans and plump little
mussels.) Vigdis and Anna shared a serving of the pasta fagiole and a serving
of cod roasted in olive oil and white wine. Erik and Aurel both had home-made
spaghetti with frutti di mare and Sharon ordered gamberoni grillata. We drank a
very young (2012) fresh and slightly effervescent white Lacryma Cristi which
definitely tasted of the terroir of Vesuvius. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ozUUnBynAnxFhJ4O_MTbirASBb8jmqHUfRQ8uV3oKVnJ19i92Z5zaP2IClp4IZQJ4MoOMb86eMDxEku0st_MXPFGDVwhODCThAH9O-BMA5vQrNyyxoTzhQVkLwxw6LBSpp53yonyPNA/s1600/Birthday+Party+web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ozUUnBynAnxFhJ4O_MTbirASBb8jmqHUfRQ8uV3oKVnJ19i92Z5zaP2IClp4IZQJ4MoOMb86eMDxEku0st_MXPFGDVwhODCThAH9O-BMA5vQrNyyxoTzhQVkLwxw6LBSpp53yonyPNA/s1600/Birthday+Party+web.jpg" height="271" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erik, Vigdis, Me, Aurel, Anna, Sylvie and Sharon</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2pme7LMd2LVFuc3TaCs373h02_x3Qch5RJff8akKnI7Del7I2ez1RFd-K07g5Jk_iYloDqWkYi5LWUt7pokQtq7GTN-AcW7Ga-2Ok9tG9IP8pkyKLxZuZLrAJCGILcY-ajU_1UF-zDG4/s1600/Forever+Young+web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2pme7LMd2LVFuc3TaCs373h02_x3Qch5RJff8akKnI7Del7I2ez1RFd-K07g5Jk_iYloDqWkYi5LWUt7pokQtq7GTN-AcW7Ga-2Ok9tG9IP8pkyKLxZuZLrAJCGILcY-ajU_1UF-zDG4/s1600/Forever+Young+web.jpg" height="320" width="259" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sharon, Forever Young </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bay of Sorrento at Sunset</td></tr>
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stopped at a belvdere to take photos and to admire the twinkling lights of the
Sorrento harbor in twilight. Back to the hotel for a little rest before our
final pizza at </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Gino Sobello, the pizzeria the
concierge had recommended our first day in Naples. We ordered three different
pizzas: classic Marguerita (with Sharon’s added basil,) pizza with fresh
artichokes and one with funghi (porcini mushrooms.) The crust was slightly
tastier and a bit more charred than the pizza from Ciro e Mergellina. Both
serve such superb pizza but everyone declared Gino </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Sobello the best. Who am I
to argue?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The next morning Sharon and I accompanied Sylvia to one of Naples' market streets for a little food shopping. Then, everyone but Sharon and I </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">dispersed for planes and trains home. She would leave later in
the day so we managed our own last minute shopping – for ex voto's – the silver
replicas of various body parts that are left in churches after a prayer for
healing is answered. Sharon found two silver ex voto displaying eyes. She decided it would be great fun to have one mounted on a silver chain to wear when she next visits her ophthalmologist. She claims he has a great sense of humor and will "get it."</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXkjZF1f5FC6Q60qumaKXaJhSRCvvSlvCTLji8t2pKvhcGCoAqf-eJdKqChyphenhyphenIs-pIStxMkyhIbCGfWPIVK_NjtG8i8CUMv7oLqDLnpPv0Ag_n_TZYrHBrTNjzJ7eQmEPTtvA5ChnQzKE/s1600/produce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXkjZF1f5FC6Q60qumaKXaJhSRCvvSlvCTLji8t2pKvhcGCoAqf-eJdKqChyphenhyphenIs-pIStxMkyhIbCGfWPIVK_NjtG8i8CUMv7oLqDLnpPv0Ag_n_TZYrHBrTNjzJ7eQmEPTtvA5ChnQzKE/s1600/produce.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The next morning I went back to the market street, so I could fly home with fresh pastry for my husband - Sfogliatelli, his favorite. </span><br />
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Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-68960642335545205472014-07-24T05:55:00.000-07:002014-07-24T19:17:30.870-07:00Naples Pizza Party, Day 3<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMtopT33nTuPKSAzA68mXr6E6gAw0z65ysiCiAxKsf731Ivva1fYyFQqm7Gq6opdne3_8j_0G8jVxsgVXnlZaRAiZBM33rNvz48rh7Zkt3hbBkZNswwaHoJj2W4a6QZEtRoZOcDdOKDU/s1600/mosaic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMtopT33nTuPKSAzA68mXr6E6gAw0z65ysiCiAxKsf731Ivva1fYyFQqm7Gq6opdne3_8j_0G8jVxsgVXnlZaRAiZBM33rNvz48rh7Zkt3hbBkZNswwaHoJj2W4a6QZEtRoZOcDdOKDU/s1600/mosaic.jpg" height="201" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Day 3 – January 19</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Sylvie”s husband Erik arrived and the plan was for him to settle in and then we would all go to the Archeological Museum before lunch. I took the time to dash off to three nearby Metro Stations that I had read were decorated by various contemporary artists. I had done the same thing in Lisbon a few years ago. I started with the Dante station, near the hotel, then went to Universitá, then backtracked to Toledo and finally back to where I started – Dante.</span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXN7IJiPkgAyQYa5lFqXFMP4ldR41XlGGCEDLXLgMgCHs6lukfVn75Q6TPvBYGne1YJIVIJc413IUL6upxUcUDHNRm1xG-ZCVDEquaR3zVMv_D8k5gx-H6r_lRyOj31d_EF1DFSq4AUSE/s1600/shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXN7IJiPkgAyQYa5lFqXFMP4ldR41XlGGCEDLXLgMgCHs6lukfVn75Q6TPvBYGne1YJIVIJc413IUL6upxUcUDHNRm1xG-ZCVDEquaR3zVMv_D8k5gx-H6r_lRyOj31d_EF1DFSq4AUSE/s1600/shoes.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Talk about sensory overload. So much art in so many colors and textures. So much beauty. At the first level down the escalator at Dante Station was a wall sculpture of lots of old shoes and clothing trapped behind sections of railroad tracks. I went down one more escalator of shiny stainless steel walls with glass panels overhead painted in bold swirls of red, black and white graphics. The walls of the station platform are decorated with tile mosaics of spacey shapes and forms in eye-popping colors: suns, moons, planets and stars in gold and lapis and silver. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On to “Toledo” station, where the floors on various levels are tiled in mind-bending Escher-like designs in customary, graphic black and white. The walls are covered in panels silk screened in hot pink and lime green squiggles and swirls. Color variations of the designs included Hot yellow, pink and blue or yellow and orange. The stairs at this station are graced with the portrait of a psychedelic, 70’s style woman. In contrast to the colorful wall graphics, a sinuous, rather sexy Carrara marble bench provides seating for passengers waiting for the trains. </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At “Universita” station I admired a photo montage covering the length of the walls on either side of a moving walkway down a long tunnel of faces staring back at you. Multi-ethnic, multi-racial, multi-cultural and multi-age and compelling faces engaging you and sometimes seeming to stare you down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Round the corner and you walk a corridor of photos of bigger than life people confronting you. Lastly a wall of pure whimsy and bits of poetry to remind you of the looming presence of Vesuvius. Wow.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Archeological Museum is famous for having all the good stuff from Pompeii and Herculaneum. The mosaic floors, statuary and richly painted wall panels – all looking as fresh as yesterday, were beautifully presented but as Vigdis pointed out, sadly out of their context. All of this would be research/preparation for our planned trip to Herculaneum the next day. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After looking at all that beauty, we were starved for lunch. We decided to try L’Ello, the restaurant next door to and owned by the hotel. It has the same “contempo/arty décor and design sensibility. It offered a buffet lunch ala NYC salad bar but the menu was fresher, home-cooked Italian specialties. Just like a salad bar it was priced by weight – 2.50 Euros per 100 grams<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(about $3.00 per ounce) Lots of vegetable choices: spinach, grilled endive, braised radicchio, green beans, zucchini, sautéed eggplant cubes, roasted pepper, etc. For entrée: fish baked with potatoes, roast pork with rosemary, really tasty roast chicken, riso nero that was really superb, intensely flavored eggplant parmegiano (sliced very thin like a French Tian) veal meatballs, sausages, various pastas lots of cakes for desert. My bill was 12 euros or $16 – not bad for a pretty amazing lunch.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We all went back to our rooms for a little rest and then met for a long walk along the harbor to see the sunset. The weather was pretty raw – windy, cold and totally overcast – a real Turner sky with pounding surf at the embankment walls. The Mediterranean is usually so calm; this was unusual and quite gorgeous. After quite a long walk we all taxied back to the hotel to warm up, collect Aurel (Sharon’s dealer arriving from Berlin) and then re-emerge for Sharon’s big birthday dinner.<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back to Ciro & Mergellina for
Sharon’s Birthday party dinner. Seven of us: Sharon, Vigdis, Anna, Sylvie, Erik, Aurel and I. For starters we again ordered the octopus salad and
Marguerita pizza (Sharon again whipped out ther package of fresh basil) and a
platter of prosciutto and milky mozzarella. I had grilled gamberini ( even
better than those from Antiche Ristorante) and a couple of grilled Branzino –
soft’ sweet flesh with a terrific char on the bottom. We drank a couple of
bottles of a very good 2009 Taurasi. Baba au Rhum for dessert. Of course,
Sharon’s serving was graced with a birthday candle. </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
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Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-16293329513495265252014-07-24T05:44:00.001-07:002014-07-24T19:19:41.133-07:00Naples Pizza Party, Day 2<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;">Day 2 - Saturday, January 18</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;">Sylvie arrived from Paris in the morning and after dropping off her luggage, we headed out for more churches, more art and more pizza. We started out at the Cloister of Santa Chiara to see the lovely majolica covered walls, benches and fountains in the peaceful surroundings of the cloister gardens. Sharon wanted to see a tomb sculpture<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- the tour de force “Veiled Christ” at the San Severo Chapel in Via Francesco de Sanctis. The sculpted figure of the reclining, deceased Christ is shrouded with a diaphanous veil – a beautiful example of marble undercutting. Sharon declared it as lovely as the statue of Ilaria del Carretto in the Cathedral in Luca. On the walk back to Via Tribunali – <em>street of pizza</em> – for lunch, we popped into the church of San Gregorio Armeno on that street. I wanted to examine the organ, which I’d been told is constructed of wood and cartapesta (papier-mache.) The center altar is flanked by two wooden organs stalls riotously decorated with papier-mache angels, flowers and baroque flourishes, all gilded with gold leaf. All the signs said “no photos,” but I pleaded with the nun standing guard to allow me a few because I am a “studiosa,” a scholar. She agreed to let me document the lovely artisan work.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1kMtiggJela5Ih4wUq9EBFWMTLCZVRELRuVUy7o8Sxn34vi6KWEqDcQQTrKSHLGyfHotMlkgTf8_mmq8sGJGU6DDpQNm35f86XfVElLN4k0iWYGa3S6BrQgjBhsoWGidxYHrEJnD0fpc/s1600/organ+angel+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1kMtiggJela5Ih4wUq9EBFWMTLCZVRELRuVUy7o8Sxn34vi6KWEqDcQQTrKSHLGyfHotMlkgTf8_mmq8sGJGU6DDpQNm35f86XfVElLN4k0iWYGa3S6BrQgjBhsoWGidxYHrEJnD0fpc/s1600/organ+angel+small.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">detail of an angel on organ</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLC81ZXWZKBVuYgvEtKjkClU5wA9mVYdyt3-9ABCSQ2SJ15nkCBxKborLKkm4wl_1toYOxUiRZ1JcOrzY-AkwHHf82bYrc4O1fpYnq_AJBmDqyTQPNCETDTzn2H5erpGgeZE_bQViazg/s1600/organ+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLC81ZXWZKBVuYgvEtKjkClU5wA9mVYdyt3-9ABCSQ2SJ15nkCBxKborLKkm4wl_1toYOxUiRZ1JcOrzY-AkwHHf82bYrc4O1fpYnq_AJBmDqyTQPNCETDTzn2H5erpGgeZE_bQViazg/s1600/organ+small.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">papier-mache decorated organ</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: black;">Lunch at Decumani – another pizza restaurant Tony and I ate at 8 years ago. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sylvie and I had the “Buffalino.’ Sliced cherry tomatoes, basil and covered with slices of especially creamy mozzarella di buffalo crowned with a small ball of cheese - a “buffalino” - in the center. A good crust but I wanted more char on the bottom. – what you usually get if you eat a later rather than earlier lunch because the oven is hotter and can give the crust a proper char.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sharon wanted salad because she had gained two pounds – horrors! She asked for a salad of arugula and tomatoes – no pizza. The very earnest and lovely young waitress asked if Sharon wanted prosciutto. I think she couldn’t imagine a lunch of just greens and tomatoes. At the end of the meal Sharon asked for a coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The waitress apologized – no caffe – and asked if we would like limoncello (an unctuously sweet lemon liquor – a specialty of the region.) At which point even Sharon had to laugh at the ridiculous suggestion. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: black;">We headed off down for a long walk on Via Toledo to see the Teatro San Carlo Opera house because I thought I’d been told that it too was decorated with papier-mache. Before our tour of Europe’s oldest opera theatre, we fueled ourselves with coffee and dolci at Caffe Gambrinus, the elegant literary café across the piazza from Teatro San Carlo. We ate Naples’ supposedly best baba au rhum and sfogliatelli, the other pastry specialty of Naples. Delicious. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: black;">Teatro San Carlo is a scarlet and gold confection – each upholstered seat a separate arm chair with ample leg room. I was a little disappointed to discover that the impressive decorative work adorning the walls is stucco or plaster, not papier mache. The harpsichord was being tuned – by an American musician, originally from Detroit - while we were admiring the surroundings. He suggested we should come back that night to see “Barber of Seville” and I was tempted but we had dinner plans. He told me he really wanted to go to New Orleans to hear traditional jazz and just soak up the atmosphere of a great city. As I joined the others for the rest of the tour, I heard him playing Ellington’s “Take the A Train” on the harpsichord – an interesting and amusing rendition of a jazz classic.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: black;">Vigdis – the other friend from Brooklyn – arrived around 5:00. Sylvie and Sharon decided to have a little rest, so Vigdis and I strolled the “crèche” street and stopped in a local wine bar/enoteca on Via Tribunali. I had a glass of the local Aglianico and she had a Proseco - an aperativo before collecting Sharon and Sylvie and heading off for dinner. Sharon had asked an Italian friend to recommend the best pizza in Naples and was told Ciro e Mergellina, at the waterfront, “has the best pizza in the world.”</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: black;">So, off we went, and what a dinner! We started with a very delicious Margherita pizza: luscious cheese and beautifully charred crust – the best so far. The waiter brought a plate of focaccia: slivers of chewy, tangy toasted pizza topped with salt and oregano. This was served with Sylvie’s octopus salad appetizer – definitely the best I’ve ever tasted: lemony, sweet and tender.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKHxX5mVRgiTQOqrra5cIj-zR2ng0aEM7OP6pK7oaEY0eZe4q0Apuu6gyN1RK0Ps4sOUB5DT6itu_rXulmCrwHPHV1Udtz7OkFZjg0VElsM40Kkl6qjCjKtxcKArHIJGYLXkxQ6bH7NTg/s1600/clams+web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKHxX5mVRgiTQOqrra5cIj-zR2ng0aEM7OP6pK7oaEY0eZe4q0Apuu6gyN1RK0Ps4sOUB5DT6itu_rXulmCrwHPHV1Udtz7OkFZjg0VElsM40Kkl6qjCjKtxcKArHIJGYLXkxQ6bH7NTg/s1600/clams+web.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: black;">I ordered the pasta alla vongole – home made spaghetti, perfectly chewy al dente, with sweetly succulent clams in a simple garlic wine sauce. Often garlic is the dominant flavor but here it was a well-played note. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sharon and Sylvie decided to share a grilled branzino: lovely moist white flesh atop deeply grilled, crunchy skin. Vigdis seemed a bit confused or overwhelmed (jet lag kicking in?) but ordered spaghetti carbonara. When the waiter brought her dish, it was clearly not what she wanted. The waiter was extremely helpful, suggesting other dishes in his limited English and was visibly relieved and happy when Vigdis decided she actually wanted spaghetti Bolognese. Bolognese! We all applauded and Vigdis was very pleased with her dinner. We all were.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: black;">Neapolitan drama of operatic proportions played out at the table behind us. Shortly after being seated, a young, attractive couple, in a lightning flash, had some horrible disagreement. They were behind Sharon and I but in full view of Sylvie and Vigdis, who gave us a blow-by-blow account of the action. Tears streamed down her cheeks as they silently and stonily sat looking away from each other. They were sitting side by side but their bodies stiffly angled out at 45 degrees. We very mature ladies were somewhat relieved such palpable passion was behind us, but we were also a little envious.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: black;">Sylvie announced, “Something happened because now they are in full lip lock.” Sharon and </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: black;">I could no longer refrain from peeking as we whipped around to finally get a good look. They were all but pawing each other as they engaged in full “kiss & make-up.” They shared a pizza, argued a little over the check, but left arm in arm. Ah, romance and love! And to be young and have it all matter so much.</span></span><br />
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Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-79769846715389549452014-07-24T05:36:00.003-07:002014-07-24T19:20:49.681-07:00Naples Pizza Party, January 2014<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;">Day 1 - Thursday/Friday, January 16/17</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;">I went to Naples, Italy for a pizza
party - a bang-up celebration for Sharon’s 70th birthday. Four days of pizza
and maybe a little of splendid Neapolitan seafood is my idea of heaven. No
direct flight to Naples so I flew to Paris and then connected to a flight to
Naples. On the overnight flight to Paris, my seat companion was a lovely young
man - a jazz guitarist - on his to Lyon for a gig. We talked music and theater
- I had just seen the Duke Ellington review, “After Midnight,” which I highly
recommended: a fabulous jazz orchestra, great singing and splendid tap dancing.
I mentioned I had been to Lyon and he asked if I could recommend any
restaurants. I was in Lyon maybe 10 years ago but I said oysters at the oyster
bar in the market and duck and quenelles pretty much anywhere. In Lyon, go for duck
and quenelles.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;">I dozed a bit waiting for my
connection at Charles De Gaulle Airport, and then dozed some more on the flight
to Naples. I woke like a shot as we began our descent and there looming outside
the window was Vesuvius. I love flying into Naples - there’s the beautiful bay
and that majestic volcano - still active but thankfully, quiescent. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;">We landed, of course the taxi
overcharged me and after a wild ride, I arrived at the very lovely Hotel
Piazza Bellini, located in the historic center, across from Piazza Bellini. The hotel's décor is contemporary but filled with warm and whimsical artistic touches. I decided to take a little nap before the arrival of Sharon,
the birthday girl. She woke me an hour and a half later and then we were off
for pizza - I was truly starving - and then a walk through the historic center
to see churches and the art therein.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;">The concierge told us we would find
lots of pizza restaurants on Via Tribunali in the nearby historic centre, but
she said the best is Gino Sobillo. Everyone has a favorite and we were more
than willing to try hers. We ended up at Sobillo - a relative of Gino [kind of like all the Ray's Pizzas in New York.] Supposedly not as good as Gino's but I thought it was fine, although the crust could have had a bit more char.
Very good cheese and sweet tomato flavor.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;">We had amazingly good coffee at the
corner of Tribunali and S. Gregorio Armeno. I hadn't had any coffee that day -
just won't drink airplane swill - so I really appreciated the great coffee at
the corner cafe. Then we walked down via S. Gregorio Armeno - the street of
crèche or in Italian, presepio (mangers) Terribly kitch but I love the stuff
and Sharon generously tolerated my need to take it all in.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;">On Via San Biagio we encountered the
baroque madness of the church of Gesu Nuevo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sharon’s comment: "If it ain't baroque, don't fix it." After
getting through so much sensory overload with our sense of good taste still
intact we entered the Capella Della Visitazione, which is totally devoted to ex
voto. The mostly silver representations of body parts (arms, legs, torso, eyes,
hearts, lungs, backs and heads covered the walls from floor to ceiling and the
ceiling as we'll. Ex voto, a kind of Catholic voodoo, are left in chapels by
supplicants who have had their prayers answered and received their cures. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;">Further down the street we stepped
into Sant’ Angelo a Nilo, a church that promised a Donetello sculpture, It turned
out to be second rate work by his students but directly opposite in the chapel
of Statuaria Sacra was a spectacular sculpture - a tomb monument - of a
skeleton climbing from a grave. Expressive and delicate, it was another example
of Neapolitan fascination with death and mortality. Among all the kitchy
mangers on the street of presepio, are statues of sports figures, politicians
and other notables, all engulfed in flames. We saw lots of glass enclosed
street shrines with flaming figurines and much of the iron work fences are
decorated with brass skulls, worn away with constant rubbing. Maybe it's about
living at the foot of a volcano.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;">We had dinner at Antica Trattoria
on via Tribunali,near S. Gregorio Armeno. My husband Tony and I had a lovely
dinner there eight years ago. Sharon, who is a perennial “weight-watcher”
decided after a pizza lunch, she wanted a dinner of salad or vegetables. From
the antipasto buffet: braised artichokes, spinach, and sautéed peppers - all
perfectly cooked. I also had the artichokes and big fat grilled shrimps that
were sweetly succulent.</span><br />
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<br />Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-67165721347304582632014-07-19T18:00:00.001-07:002014-07-25T17:55:43.230-07:00Greetings from West Gilgo Beach<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm still winding down from 10 days at the beach in a friend's house. West Gilgo is a community of homes sited between the ocean and the Great South Bay inlet on Jones Island. Head to Jones Beach, turn left and West Gilgo is just past Tobay Beach. There is no easy access to the beach for the public because the parking is in the gated community. So, on a sunny Saturday afternoon in mid July - a perfect beach day - there were maybe 50 people on the beach. (There is a public parking lot down the road at the next town, Gilgo, and definitely more crowds.</div>
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My daily routine included lots of long walks along the surf, in the morning and evenings with Franny, my sweet terrier mix, otherwise known as "Stevie's Mutt." I swam laps in the bay and then headed to the beach for body surfing and sunbathing. And naps.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_uGD3y2iT3FdEFqMuEwX2LOeX_j-wq8iGERNBDQSSA08ajp97CH5fBFwn4urgXeDHr2S7tu4GVSJFd6MnL0zbWbo_iTtNZ9PdGHqeO81cYYDzijC2EEj-9IjWy3R7ocNA4qNi7RmRE3w/s1600/Franny+mutt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_uGD3y2iT3FdEFqMuEwX2LOeX_j-wq8iGERNBDQSSA08ajp97CH5fBFwn4urgXeDHr2S7tu4GVSJFd6MnL0zbWbo_iTtNZ9PdGHqeO81cYYDzijC2EEj-9IjWy3R7ocNA4qNi7RmRE3w/s1600/Franny+mutt.jpg" height="320" width="304" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Franny (Stevie's mutt)</td></tr>
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I read lots of cook books - pouring over Italian and Sicilian recipes and commentary for a research project. I brought books from my collection and then was delighted to discover my friend's books. I also really enjoy the improvised, somewhat haphazard cooking one tends to do while on vacation. My "Italian frame of mind" led me to lots of pasta dishes: delicious, easy and fast, because who wants to slave away at a hot stove after a hard day at the beach?<br />
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<span style="color: blue;">I sautéed some Italian sausage removed from the casings. Then I sautéed escarole (I didn't have any broccoli raab) with some minced garlic. Added some cherry tomatoes, salt & pepper. Splashed it with a little white wine and let it simmer for a few minutes - for the flavors to mingle. Added cooked pasta and plenty of parmesan.</span><br />
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Another night:<br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">I sautéed some chopped onion and garlic. Added chopped fresh tomatoes and broken up grilled sausage (because I had some.) Then added the cooked pasta and some diced fresh mozzarella. Let the mozzarella soften and add lots of parmesan. Fresh basil is nice, if you have it. Sort of Pasta Caprese.</span><span style="color: blue;"></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">Served it with some grilled zucchini drizzled with olive oil. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black;">I discovered in</span> <span style="color: black;">The Thomas Jefferson</span> <span style="color: black;">cookbook that he introduced macaroni to the new United States in 1790. </span></span><br />
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On my last day I made a lovely tortilla - a recipe from a Spanish cookbook in my friend's collection. A great way to use up eggs, potatoes and half an onion. Franny agreed it was delicious. Home again, Brooklyn.<br />
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<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F4.bp.blogspot.com%2F-W7MVhbtNOuE%2FU8sSM4HUZwI%2FAAAAAAAABXc%2FYkj7PZ-CnvA%2Fs1600%2FGil%25253Bgo%2B2%25252C%2B4%2B17%2B38%2BPM.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ9v_G1_BiVNfMQFHBglqA7gOlxqCRvLbAt6NNtA_GTLIQpCrcDp-R_0iDlt8d-C_hTl-Ex4G3t0l3n5-ZRmYZna4sJnd-ZbfYsIPJTWZLs81tYfhuW6nGNxBnjHQn5rB1gEJipqd18I0/s1600/Gil%253Bgo+2%252C+4+17+38+PM.jpg" -->Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-34143430792189164262013-01-23T10:03:00.001-08:002014-02-24T10:09:10.914-08:00A Tale of Two Feasts - Part 2<!--StartFragment-->
<span style="text-align: center;">After celebrating the Festa dei Gigli, at the end of June, I flew to Salemi, Sicily, a medieval hill town of steep and narrow cobble-stoned streets, located an hour’s drive south of Palermo’s airport. I had come to see old friends and revisit St. Joseph’s feast, celebrated throughout Sicily but most quintessentially in Salemi. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salemi Street</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salemi with Castle in Background</td></tr>
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The giglio feast is about sacrifice and homecoming and St Joseph's feast is about sustenance and survival. It honors Sicily’s patron who,
according to legend, ended a severe drought that devastated the island during
the Middle Ages. Sicilians prayed to St. Joseph and after the rain finally came
and the drought and hunger ended, Sicilian villages prepared banquets to thank
their saint, who is also patron of the home, family, carpenters and pastry
chefs – truly a multi-tasking saint. Sicilian immigrants brought the feast traditions
to New Orleans, when they settled there in the 1870’s. St Joseph altars are
still created and banquets are served in many churches, community centers and
private homes throughout New Orleans.</div>
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At the top of this hill town of
12,000 people, at one end of Piazza Alicia, sits an imposing 12<sup>th</sup>
century Norman castle. At the opposite end are the ruins of the “Mother Church”
destroyed by an earthquake in 1615 and now used as an open-air theater. Gaetano
Scomegna, community liaison, walked with me through the areas ruined by the
1969 earthquake and pointed out what had been the thriving Jewish ghetto when
Salemi was an Arab outpost. “These were the houses the mayor wanted to sell for
one euro as a way to get people to rebuild the ancient town center,” he said. It was the idea of Vittorio Sgarbi, a former cultural minister and former mayor of Salemi. Many houses have been renovated and those houses
had sweeping views of the valley below and the rugged hills beyond.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Altar Festooned with Laurel and Breads</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Unbaked) Roses & Grapes</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fava Beans</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nadie Vultaggio</td></tr>
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Women organize and make this feast.
They prepare the foods and create the signature folk art of this feast - bread,
crafted in myriad designs, shapes and forms, that decorate the altar and
banquet table. Six years ago, when I spent a month working with several Salemi
women, learning to make the simpler ritual breads, I asked master bread-makers Anna Catalanotta and Nadie Vultaggio who had taught them to make the incredible designs. Anna answered, "You learn from your mother or by doing it with other women." Nadie nodded in agreement. Now I was back at family dinner at Nadie's house, reminiscing as we looked at photos
from this year’s celebration.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anna Catalanotta</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three Tiered Altar with Jesus, Mary & St. Joseph Breads</td></tr>
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A wonderful cook, Nadie served
breaded pork cutlets, potatoes mashed with cheese and then baked, salad from Nadie’s garden and home-baked bread. I told her as delicious as the meal was, I was sorry it wasn't pasta with sardines (pasta con le sarde) a dish she and Ann had taught me to make. She reminded me that meal had taken all of a Saturday morning to prepare. But what a lovely family lunch that had been.<br />
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Looking at photos of the
town-sponsored altar, I remembered how I was first stunned by the artful creation
made by Anna, Nadie and the other women.The St. Joseph banquets of the Middle
Ages were simple affairs; tables set up in the town squares, laden with food
provided by the landed gentry to feed the peasantry. Today’s celebration has
evolved into an elaborate <i>mise en scene</i>.
In Salemi tall arches (errected by men) festooned with laurel leaves, citrus fruits and
decorative breads in the shapes of spring fruits, vegetables, birds and animals
framed the altar (three-tiered to represent the Trinity) overflowing with flowers, prepared foods, wine and pastries -
representations of fertility and abundance.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orange & Breads on Laurel Covered Altar Frame</td></tr>
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On each tier were three large breads, each decorated with iconography (made of bread) of the members of the Holy Family. St Joseph's bread was decorated with carpentry tools, Jesus' bread with the cross, crown of thorns and other symbols of the Passion and on Mary's bread were seamstress' tools and roses. Interspersed were bowls of breadcrumbs to represent the sawdust of St. Joseph the carpenter.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St. Joseph's Bread</td></tr>
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Three
children portraying Jesus, Mary and Joseph, were served a multi-course meal,
each course announced with a drum roll. No meat is served because St. Joseph's feast falls mid-Lent, a time of fasting and meatless meals for observant Christians. After the three children were served, dishes
were passed to the clamoring townspeople - a reenactment of hunger. The children's meal ended as all good Italian meals do, with cafe. In this case, I beleive the children were served mostly milk touched with coffee. Finally,
everyone was served a traditional meal of spaghetti, olive oil and cinnamon,
sprinkled with toasted breadcrumbs. Although some breads are saved as souvenirs, most are eaten and new
breads and new altars are recreated each year. Like the gigli this feast’s folk
art is also ephemeral.</div>
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Although I spent a month, six years ago, watching and helping the women make the hundreds of breads needed to decorate the altar, I never became adept at it. But then, they spend their lives learning to make these breads. Mostly I cut circles that they fashioned into roses and I rolled little balls of dough that became clusters of grapes. When I downplayed my contribution to the final effort, Anna pulled me to the altar and pointing out every rose and grape cluster, said, "Stefania, those are all yours."</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anna's Hands </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZi6rZzxjr8_qqG7wGcO93da_Y28QiK322WSZmuivqRNurxzJIEYews0F6RoKuNwVaPKtbyE56v4zUTpIP0wuPd2tWCxbab5cpZ6IpiEF8F-k3L8e_1da5DTwROZBrS0Or0WWIGn0uYQc/s1600/Husbands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZi6rZzxjr8_qqG7wGcO93da_Y28QiK322WSZmuivqRNurxzJIEYews0F6RoKuNwVaPKtbyE56v4zUTpIP0wuPd2tWCxbab5cpZ6IpiEF8F-k3L8e_1da5DTwROZBrS0Or0WWIGn0uYQc/s320/Husbands.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anna & Nadie's husbands applying the Laurel to the Altar Frame</td></tr>
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Now there is a Bread Museum with an
altar, banquet table and vitrines displaying examples of the breads and
descriptions of their significance to the feast. There is also a display altar
at the new Hotel Villa Mokarta, located just outside town on the road to the
Villa Mokarta archeological dig – site of a Bronze Age village dating to 1250
B.C. The hotel has spacious rooms, wifi, a pool and a superb restaurant where I
ate the best meal of my trip: spaghetti with sautéed zucchini and shrimp, a
salad of local tomatoes, grilled swordfish seasoned with thyme, ripe melon
drizzled with balsamic vinegar and a glass of a very good Nero d’Avola (€25 or around $33.)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWjJpipjEOmHIQdCpoYtOF4JUNH9-6lBJaQvEsvHSeSEry6fSoNWKd3zTFP-Dwuy1XGnQC3SfGnSnrdQqigv7gWWSmWe2ebAdx98Jdh2kDQ1ZfFgnetPy0A0gondep1jMrGw3YCKEsJQ/s1600/doric+temple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWjJpipjEOmHIQdCpoYtOF4JUNH9-6lBJaQvEsvHSeSEry6fSoNWKd3zTFP-Dwuy1XGnQC3SfGnSnrdQqigv7gWWSmWe2ebAdx98Jdh2kDQ1ZfFgnetPy0A0gondep1jMrGw3YCKEsJQ/s320/doric+temple.jpg" height="174" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doric Temple at Segesta</td></tr>
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Within a half hour’s drive are
lovely beaches, a Greek theater and temples to rival any in Greece. To the
south is Selinunte, where five temples in varying degrees of ruin sit on a high
plain overlooking the crystalline sea. In spring one walks through fields of
fragrant wildflowers to reach them and in summer you can cool off at the golden
beaches below. North of Salemi, Segesta’s
massive Doric temple is sited on a hill in the midst of rolling green
countryside. Hike up or take the tram to the top of nearby Monte Barbaro to
reach the Greek theater, now a venue for plays, concerts and other events. Its
back-drop opens onto a sweeping vista of the vineyards and rolling hills of the
western Sicilian countryside. </div>
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Sicily and Campania, the region of
Naples and Nola, are still quite agrarian and as my Salemi friend Gaetano
reminded me, “The feasts aren’t celebrated like this in the big cities. Here they
are remnants of a time when it was easier and necessary for people to work
together.” Standing on the stage of that 2000-year-old theatre, I reflected on
my path from the raucous festivities of the giglio feast honoring sacrifice and a very good deed done for a widow to a grand Sicilian feast where I was allowed to play a small roll. </div>
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<!--EndFragment--><br />Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-78017820544331284562013-01-21T06:03:00.001-08:002013-02-03T15:23:44.817-08:00A Tale of Two Feasts - Part 1<!--StartFragment-->
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<span style="color: blue;"><em>This past June I had the opportunity to revisit two of the sites of my Fulbright research done in Italy in 2006. With a travel grant from the Brooklyn Heights Montessori School, where I work as an administrator, I was able to see the Gigli Festa in Nola and spend time with friends in Salemi, Sicily. It was also interesting to see the changes I had read about and what had remained the same. Part 1 is my report on my travels to Nola, where I ate fabulous Southern Italian cuisine of Campania and again marveled at the paper mache folk art.</em> </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Emotion" Giglio</td></tr>
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Late afternoon, in the still
brilliant sunshine and intense Southern Italian heat, a small group of Americans
were cooling off poolside, eating home-made fig cookies which we dipped in tumblers
of local wine. We had come to Nola, Italy, for the Festa of the Gigli, celebrated
for more than 1500 years, likely making it Italy’s oldest saint’s feast. Almost every southern Italian town and
village honors its special saint with a festival and in Nola the feast day of
its patron, San Paolino, is celebrated with raucous music, exquisite folk art
and amazing demonstrations of physical strength.</div>
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Everyone in Nola, including my new Italian-Americans
friends, Ersilia Iorio Graziano and Anthony Casalino, loves to tell the story
of what San Paolino did for the town. “Very simply, he won freedom for his
people,” Anthony told me. The legend goes that in 409 AD, Nola was sacked by
the Goths and many of its men were carried off to North Africa as slaves.
Bishop Paolino ransacked his church, selling anything of value to ransom the
enslaved Nolani men. When a widow implored him to get back her only son,
Paolino offered himself in exchange.
After three years in
captivity, Paolino won freedom for himself and the village men. The grateful
women of Nola, each waving bouquets of lilies (gigli,) met their returning
boat.</div>
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Ersilia, a petite, attractive woman
in her mid-60’s, was born in Nola but moved with her family to the Bronx when
she was a child. “My family has been involved with the feast going way back –
my father, my grandfather, my uncles,” she said. “I used to come for the feast
when I was a teenager and then as an adult. I brought my son Marc when he was
six years old and this year I had to show the feast to my fourteen-year-old
grandson, Daniel, and again to Marc.”</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIo0pttV6A1ufWyYfC-QJYhwSol7AA1UgxLsM9xxO8o4VXydPZOBrI9EKc5i61kZuhOpIZuTSesHqdY5Iy7BgjsrBg2ccUVOgpcXqnLWxv3ZoEbqYhYzdBD12b9k62y-yDIHGtGOKeu-s/s1600/boat+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIo0pttV6A1ufWyYfC-QJYhwSol7AA1UgxLsM9xxO8o4VXydPZOBrI9EKc5i61kZuhOpIZuTSesHqdY5Iy7BgjsrBg2ccUVOgpcXqnLWxv3ZoEbqYhYzdBD12b9k62y-yDIHGtGOKeu-s/s320/boat+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boat in Piazza Duomo</td></tr>
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I told Ersilia and Anthony that I discovered
the Giglio Festa seven years ago when I heard a CD of the festival songs for
the celebration in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, where the great-grandchildren of
Nola immigrants continue the feast traditions. I remember staring at the
picture of a seven-story tower, decorated with paper-mache images of angels,
saints and flowers. The base was a platform holding a twelve-piece brass band
and singer performing Neapolitan songs. This four-ton structure was carried on the shoulders of 120 men. It was
preposterous and fantastic and I wanted to know more about it, so I went to Nola
in 2006 as a Fulbright Scholar, to study the giglio, and to Sicily to study the
St. Joseph feast, also celebrated in Italian-American communities in the U.S. </div>
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I’m not Italian but my Puerto Rican
and French Canadian families also celebrate holidays and family events in ways
dictated by traditions and customs passed down through generations. I’m really
drawn to the community spirit, the drama and the special foods of the saints’
feasts. My interest began with the
giglio song, “O Giglio e Paradiso” and eventually encompassed a fascination
with the folk art of both feasts.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw2uTHFOxMfKZMNV90hOiE8BfE3IrGJxHYIgvmkacADPSPIIGZScGmcTO6ni3Is-5vsmTHBxBSaEOWMrTXP-fVYUJu7YSkG3nZMVhR2xmBZT7-C120EERm0mWwRLkcFCMiwn-fb4869qk/s1600/bel+sito+hotel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw2uTHFOxMfKZMNV90hOiE8BfE3IrGJxHYIgvmkacADPSPIIGZScGmcTO6ni3Is-5vsmTHBxBSaEOWMrTXP-fVYUJu7YSkG3nZMVhR2xmBZT7-C120EERm0mWwRLkcFCMiwn-fb4869qk/s1600/bel+sito+hotel.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hotel Bel Sito</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0hEKnBHKsoJk7Z_QEwdef_u9adpAYzgyUB_0p_qmeCwbGwu17Z8PkLQ-lswteqUDagAFgWZo1rOHMSxzHjIpj-4dmHdJZDnYllU4HGq_N7biO3hCE7xS46JA-nceSfSGSv0qyV9u9QWA/s1600/bel+sito+pool.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0hEKnBHKsoJk7Z_QEwdef_u9adpAYzgyUB_0p_qmeCwbGwu17Z8PkLQ-lswteqUDagAFgWZo1rOHMSxzHjIpj-4dmHdJZDnYllU4HGq_N7biO3hCE7xS46JA-nceSfSGSv0qyV9u9QWA/s320/bel+sito+pool.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inviting Hotel Pool</td></tr>
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<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">This is the tenth year Anthony has
come to Nola to participate in the giglio celebration. He explained, “My family
has been involved in the giglio for hundreds of years, in Italy and then in
Brooklyn after they emigrated to the U.S. in the 1890’s. So it’s easy to understand my love for
this feast; it’s part of my DNA.” Anthony’s massive shoulders and muscular arms
fairly scream “lifter” and he does lift the giglio in both Nola and Brooklyn.</span></div>
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A half hour drive from Naples, Nola
lies on the other side of Vesuvius to the northeast, in the plain between the volcano
and the Apennine Mountains. I arrived June 20, four days before the day San
Paolino is honored with a procession of eight 85-foot wooden towers plus a
large boat (symbol of the boat that brought Paolino and Nola’s men home), carried
on the shoulders of teams of men. I arrived lunch time at the Hotel Bel Sito, a
lushly landscaped oasis, located on the outskirts of Nola on strip mall-like Via
San Paolino Belsito. The pool was incredibly inviting in the torrid heat but I was
anxious to get into town to see the gigli. First I dined at the hotel – a
no-brainer and a delicious one at that: pasta con frutti di mare (fat pasta
rings in a light tomato sauce with tiny clams and plump mussels), grilled tuna
bathed in olive oil and a mixed salad with shaved fennel. The prix fixe menu (lunch or dinner)
was <span style="font-family: Eurostile;">€</span>20 (about $25.)</div>
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Now I was ready to see the boat and
the eight giglio towers, scattered throughout town in various piazzas where
they had been erected. These spires, taller than most of Nola’s buildings, are
giant representations of the bouquets of lilies first offered in gratitude to San
Paolino. Walking through Nola, I met an old friend, Antonio Napolitano,
director of La Contea Nolana, a volunteer cultural society concerned with all
things giglio. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggjDbmXRLBRu0POyayW5eRRvbOxDjtpV1rTZIROiSRNzfEWia7pRT6pQ4xk_n52ce-AUVXGIJkAonvFmMyYpnSwbNaagZE2SWfsWZ5KTvp8d7qTCMLky2R9yIMAFjd_Oisjtq4n5gOM5w/s1600/workshop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggjDbmXRLBRu0POyayW5eRRvbOxDjtpV1rTZIROiSRNzfEWia7pRT6pQ4xk_n52ce-AUVXGIJkAonvFmMyYpnSwbNaagZE2SWfsWZ5KTvp8d7qTCMLky2R9yIMAFjd_Oisjtq4n5gOM5w/s320/workshop.jpg" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paper Mache piece at Bottega Tudisco</td></tr>
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He took me to see the three
bottegas (workshops) that produce the paper-mache facades for all the giglio
towers. I struggled to keep up with his pace and stride, as he explained the
evolution of the gigli and boat from the simple bouquets left at the cathedral
after Paolino’s death to today’s ornate constructions. He told me that first
the bouquets were mounted on poles; eventually a base was created to support
the poles and then the top was crowned with a statue of S. Paolino. Nola’s
citizens proceeded through the town carrying candles, torches and the
now-mounted gigli. I asked Antonio why eight gigli. He told me, “A crazy
competition began during the Middle Ages and carried on into the Renaissance
when eight trade and artisan guilds vied to create taller and more magnificent
gigli. So now, eight gigli for the eight trades and guilds.” </div>
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Eventually the height was set at
eighty-five feet and when the brass bands and festive music were added in the
seventeenth century, the gigli began to dance as they were carried through the
streets. The emotion-filled singing, a vocal style combining bel canto operatic
tradition and street vendor cries, and the booming music resounding from
different directions through the narrow streets, adds a cacophonous note to the
spectacle. Antonio thinks music contributes a feminine element. He told me, “When
the giglio dances, it moves like a woman and we all dance with it.”</div>
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At the Bottega d’arte Tudisco, family-run
for nearly three hundred years, Antonio introduced me to its director, Gaetano
Tudisco, who happily showed me the plaster molds in which paper and glue are
layered to make the paper-mache elements - angels, saints, baroque arabesques,
etc. – used to create the magnificent facades. The workshop was strewn with pieces
of unpainted paper-mache and Gaetano said of course, I could take some; rejects
to him but prized souvenirs for me. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUbf_INpBUCOMAlnQ05dBJVif517kPbF5z2mO_N9aWH2W3RrGdk-Ev8Jzwkiy9G6urstooMWtcI-nJjUiMnur4n4OHeSsvb6g21ycJwqYpIwsJHh-KlYQnjG_WoxfrXnIMmo2lzowiLs/s1600/bread+giglio+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUbf_INpBUCOMAlnQ05dBJVif517kPbF5z2mO_N9aWH2W3RrGdk-Ev8Jzwkiy9G6urstooMWtcI-nJjUiMnur4n4OHeSsvb6g21ycJwqYpIwsJHh-KlYQnjG_WoxfrXnIMmo2lzowiLs/s320/bread+giglio+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giglio di Pane </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I mentioned to Gaetano I had also
studied a feast that used bread as a decorative element and he excitedly told
Antonio, “Take her to see my giglio for panettiere (the baker’s guild).”
Charming and delightful, this giglio was surrounded by a paper-mache village,
starring the bread maker pulling loaves from his oven.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0lSf1UC75gKxeSITT1quqmZZI_u5zs9nBcFZv7Dz9Tnk4nFVvNRjwuIs8D8EHJtJ4jypY0p8x6e-lW7lvzE7dVYeHy1Gs0MMLT3hGWLaxhgIMW0_6YwYvxFMmx_LhW16vtl-7g9acZo4/s1600/pane+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0lSf1UC75gKxeSITT1quqmZZI_u5zs9nBcFZv7Dz9Tnk4nFVvNRjwuIs8D8EHJtJ4jypY0p8x6e-lW7lvzE7dVYeHy1Gs0MMLT3hGWLaxhgIMW0_6YwYvxFMmx_LhW16vtl-7g9acZo4/s320/pane+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paper Mache bakers</td></tr>
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<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> The celebration began just before
noon. Sound equipment was put in place and the singers and the twelve-piece
bands mounted the platforms of each giglio. The men put their shoulders under
poles inserted in the platforms and at the command of their leader, raised the
massive towers off the grounds for the all-important “aizata” or first lift.
Per tradition, baba au rhum and coffee provided by the giglio’s sponsor were
served to people gathered at each giglio. The first lift is a dramatic moment.
Ersilia told me “Daniel was absolutely amazed. I can tell you my Nola cousins
wept.”</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"></span></div>
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One by one each of the eight gigli
and the boat were carried into Piazza Duomo - so full of people that the boat
seemed to navigate a sea of heads and waving arms as it made its way to sit in
front of the Municipal Building. The eight gigli were lined up, facing each
other, four each flanking two sides of the Piazza. After they received a
blessing from the Bishop, the paranza went off to eat and then rest before the start
that evening of the gigli’s all-night dance. Ersilia told me that when she was
a girl, “the paranza’s always ate sandwiches filled with beef braciola and drank
red wine sipped through fennel stalks, like straws. For strength. It was always
served in people’s homes but now the paranza go to restaurants.” (Of course, I
got Ersilia’s braciola recipe.)</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggritS6Jh1Tqo-g7XWenbSn8Kx0EoFPQAojIJjtaNiuddgxOtZihZ3bhwMDve_fUxkXPuh8DZRDXrvWraT_dzJjcRwUIJQJvKEzK_L3UfNlaBESGEo1NZ3UmOmpQLUHsfl8ZvoU30JWMQ/s1600/tattoo+arm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggritS6Jh1Tqo-g7XWenbSn8Kx0EoFPQAojIJjtaNiuddgxOtZihZ3bhwMDve_fUxkXPuh8DZRDXrvWraT_dzJjcRwUIJQJvKEzK_L3UfNlaBESGEo1NZ3UmOmpQLUHsfl8ZvoU30JWMQ/s320/tattoo+arm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tattoo Arms</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Men are the protagonists of this
feast and pass on the traditions, father to son. They build the towers and
prove their strength and stamina by carrying the huge gigli. Working in
concert, supporting each other’s efforts, the strain evident on their faces,
the lifters endure pain and fatigue in their body-punishing labor. Wives,
mothers and girlfriends support their awesome performance, by following with
towels to mop their sweat and water to quench their thirst. As I photographed a
giglio carried by a team of lifters called “Fantastic Team,” a beautiful young
woman, wearing a dress better described as lingerie, handed me a big pink button
boldly inscribed: “Fantastic Team Girl” and declared, “Sono fantastico, si?” I thought about my conversation the day
before, at a café with Dr. Katia Bellanchino, an anthropology professor at the
University of Rome. Katia, who earned her doctorate studying the Giglio, had confided,
“I really love these guys. I love the beautiful tattoos of San Paolino and the
giglio blazoned on their powerful arms and legs.” With all its religious
aspects, the feast atmosphere is also charged with lots of testosterone and sexuality. Think Mastroianni and Loren.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6sJ8isqkJ4AzoZ4pDHh3UXghEd8HBTjTkUkhASA7BPDeVfiV1Py2nD7Vnl_uEOPS9vgeoXTGUBMacmNohIHtWnDCNbIbePdpHFO6xa8ipHNkUkjfXibUljDCEL4vQBUMl1giMS67DLU8/s1600/S.+Paolino+tattoo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6sJ8isqkJ4AzoZ4pDHh3UXghEd8HBTjTkUkhASA7BPDeVfiV1Py2nD7Vnl_uEOPS9vgeoXTGUBMacmNohIHtWnDCNbIbePdpHFO6xa8ipHNkUkjfXibUljDCEL4vQBUMl1giMS67DLU8/s320/S.+Paolino+tattoo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">San Paolino Tattoo</td></tr>
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Antonio, fiftyish, and not
especially muscular, lifts when given the chance. He said, “I can’t describe the emotion I feel when I lift
the giglio. It’s a way to elevate our souls.” Nicola Vecchione proudly showed me the calloused bump on his shoulder, his badge of honor as a cullatore (lifter) and explained that term to me. "Cullatore means to rock a baby and we both lift and rock the giglio.) Anthony Casalino lifts to pay
homage to his immigrant grandparents. “The heavy weight of the giglio and the
soreness to my shoulder pales in comparison to their hardships. It’s my small
token of gratitude.”</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The beautiful wooden giants, rising
above the roof-tops, proceeded along the narrow, winding streets teeming with
Nolani and visitors following the gigli.
From their balconies, people showered the towers with confetti, flower
petals. By early morning the gigli and boat were back at Piazza Duomo where
they remained on view for two days, until the “abbatimento,” the knock down and
destruction of the gigli and boat. There’s no place to store the towers so,
sadly, they are destroyed and built anew each year.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYo4f7uOhV98eDsB8UB3PoVbzYcYxoUND_YSOhVZDJGKkIzPCHHmUwPzzt9jT8xn02dAU-d4FId5J8Pr41Yvlm6EXNKDExi7kaXhLAAwUHcUge4JLAIX2vjmvSzMD7k4378-bB9M7oucw/s1600/knockdown.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYo4f7uOhV98eDsB8UB3PoVbzYcYxoUND_YSOhVZDJGKkIzPCHHmUwPzzt9jT8xn02dAU-d4FId5J8Pr41Yvlm6EXNKDExi7kaXhLAAwUHcUge4JLAIX2vjmvSzMD7k4378-bB9M7oucw/s320/knockdown.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Knock Down</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Although the giglio festivities are
pretty all-consuming, there are other attractions in the Nola/Naples area. The
Circumvesuviano railroad circles Mt Vesuvius to connect Naples, Nola, Pompeii, Ercolano
(the ancient Herculaneum) and access to a hiking trail up the ever-present volcano.
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> There are a few less expensive B & B's in Nola center but the Hotel Bel Sito’s pool,
wifi and air-conditioning make it an attractive choice (doubles are around </span><span style="font-family: Eurostile; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">€</span><span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">100, including breakfast.) Nola offers many </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">restaurants specializing in seafood
and classic Neapolitan pizza. </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">O’Cellario, a pizzeria/trattoria near Piazza Calabrese serves
Marguerita pizza, classic or, my favorite: crudo style with slices of sweet San
Marzano tomatoes, mozzarella di bufalo and fresh basil on a crust brushed with
fruity olive oil (€5.) The succulent, huge grilled prawns at La Cicerenella on
Via Tansillo were a knockout for </span><span style="font-family: Eurostile; text-indent: 0.5in;">€</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">12.
Dining in its garden, under the canopy created by banana palms, olive and
citrus trees, I knew if I could, I would return every year to experience the
giddy, sublime joy of following the crazy dance of the gigli. </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><br />
<br />
<!--StartFragment-->
<!--EndFragment-->Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-77226008660271665552013-01-15T14:23:00.000-08:002013-01-23T09:20:07.718-08:00Porto and the Duoro Wine Region<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyumo8hQOMXvwqax1Foat2Te4asA1vFdfX6Z_qSG3GbSIMblLCkdlB2_Cwj1aLLdWumeBKccoA_D6_T8oETxgLFl4vmwHoeJPCl0wGaVvkcOt3Nt9lxkB0QCDVcvkuagIe9jVWGmH73MY/s1600/Porto+bridge+2011+042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyumo8hQOMXvwqax1Foat2Te4asA1vFdfX6Z_qSG3GbSIMblLCkdlB2_Cwj1aLLdWumeBKccoA_D6_T8oETxgLFl4vmwHoeJPCl0wGaVvkcOt3Nt9lxkB0QCDVcvkuagIe9jVWGmH73MY/s400/Porto+bridge+2011+042.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bridge over Duoro in Porto</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Then it was on to Porto for more art and more Fado. Our visit was very short - one day - but we walked down to the river port and admired the iron bridge built by an Eiffel disciple. (I drank a glass of chilled white port as we watched the boats sailing by on the Douro River. As Martha, Ian and I walked up and down the hilly streets we admired lots of fantastic tile facades and decorative ironwork on the balconies. Porto is a very lively city with a vibrant contemporary art, music and design scene. I saw lots of gorgeous tile work, ceramics and fused glass. It was explained to me that the tile and ceramic traditions trace back to Arab influences and the glass art traditions stem from Roman influences. In a crafts shop near the river port, I bought a fused glass pendant and two fused glass rings. I plan to send them to my niece who makes fused glass plates and candle holders.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPq4hjpIjg8VN40UhBgmxtplpRCCp5A95gXTTWAE3XjRAhWz8Xhg1vKx7E3BAmAjCmPlTMB1yeZn-XIAHgW2-B7NOXwbjn2OVHGUcfb8b7Uslq1Lo5LNWdTMXxepDJlStdPUSS0WENRg0/s1600/Porto+tile2011+034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPq4hjpIjg8VN40UhBgmxtplpRCCp5A95gXTTWAE3XjRAhWz8Xhg1vKx7E3BAmAjCmPlTMB1yeZn-XIAHgW2-B7NOXwbjn2OVHGUcfb8b7Uslq1Lo5LNWdTMXxepDJlStdPUSS0WENRg0/s320/Porto+tile2011+034.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tile and Iron Railings in Porto</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Although there are lots of Fado bars and clubs near the river, we went to a restaurant down the street to see Joanna Costa, who was really terrific. She gave an extended performance/concert that lasted close to an hour. My dinner was a bacalau dish my Puerto Rican grandmother used to prepare - one of my favorites. It was a simple preparation of cod with boiled potatoes, sauteed onions and a hard boiled egg - all bathed in olive oil. This is definitely an example of cucina povera - uncomplicated comfort food. I will return to Porto anytime: beautiful, interesting city with good food.<br />
<br />
On to the wine country in the Douro River Valley. We drove the very long, time-consuming scenic route and while the views were breathtaking, the trip took way longer than we expected. We didn't realize that the highway would have cut the trip in half and we still would have seen some scenic views towards the end. Next time!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYWIfcVSZ0yMkqNEUDUz9G8UubrOI_hM3Y2NHAoTvyw_Phh2gv7WYfzPtZRt0VzNEssfRI-Uuyx9rkc5Mg8MgtVXLg_stlxJ3HQ_e04glEXsTqCD_9gGIDoUneNpjN91YS9UzWjYTN64/s1600/Quinto+do+Pego.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYWIfcVSZ0yMkqNEUDUz9G8UubrOI_hM3Y2NHAoTvyw_Phh2gv7WYfzPtZRt0VzNEssfRI-Uuyx9rkc5Mg8MgtVXLg_stlxJ3HQ_e04glEXsTqCD_9gGIDoUneNpjN91YS9UzWjYTN64/s320/Quinto+do+Pego.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quinto do Pego</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We arrived at our winery hotel around 5:00 - just in time for a quick swim, a little rest and then dinner. The Quinta do Pego is a working winery with a boutique hotel of 10 rooms (but one is always reserved for the Danish owner) reception rooms, dining for the guests and an infinity edge pool with a view of he river and the terraced hills. The hotel is sited in the hills so the rooms command views of the Douro and the vine covered hills. The landscaping includes lush flowers, fruit trees and lots of seating areas for relaxing and enjoying the river vistas.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnroMSBw1NwWKQvCPJQur3yrqenKDx7UlnfloyLR67012sT6vet2EbhO89qj43oXdiUH7CtNvJVv7NgYcMuxgrBrfnmiPRoeTJLrCZwyCWw2f4NBablKJitdWRKpoS8YtH6uWqJNeGzU4/s1600/Pool+with+View.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnroMSBw1NwWKQvCPJQur3yrqenKDx7UlnfloyLR67012sT6vet2EbhO89qj43oXdiUH7CtNvJVv7NgYcMuxgrBrfnmiPRoeTJLrCZwyCWw2f4NBablKJitdWRKpoS8YtH6uWqJNeGzU4/s320/Pool+with+View.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pool with a View</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Each morning Martha and I would begin with a hike into the hill-side vinyards, then a swim because it would begin to be quite warm by 10:00 - 11:00 am. Then a lunch of smoked meats, cheeses and fresh fruit on the terrace followed by excursions: mostly tastings at the local wineries. Our hotel arranged a private lunch/wine tasting at a nearby winery - Quinta do Vallado. We were told the menu offered two entrees: cod with corn bread or roast beef. Martha and I said we would have the cod and our husbands would have roast beef. Quinto do Vallado, one of the oldest wineries in the valley, sits just a bit above the river with its vineyards climbing the hills to the rear of the guest rooms and the winery. We were seated in a vine covered pergola. We started with olives and sliced hams and cured sausages. Then a course of a Portuguese speciality - duck rice - a pilaf layered with slices of roasted duck. I guess we misunderstood them because we were each served the Portuguese speciality - baked bacalau with a cornbread crust. The cod was suculent and the cornbread topping was buttery and heavenly. Then we were served a beautifully rare filet of beef with a port jus, accompanied by sliced roasted potatoes and salad. Simple but absolutely fantastic. Then a platter of luscious peaches, apricots and cherries. All of this paired with the Quinta's very fine wines. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoCFCyJfgyVweo6ocHj6pJhagwRt2uXtF33kF6eVAR6aiv8zw9xKsUAxusL98qXNV33glYnPAG9OXHhAFw8vHMGV9_X1LIv6wJTfFfGeiLfCuqhKD_-gfOKlVjLHswT0ND3QfxuSeh3mQ/s1600/View+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoCFCyJfgyVweo6ocHj6pJhagwRt2uXtF33kF6eVAR6aiv8zw9xKsUAxusL98qXNV33glYnPAG9OXHhAFw8vHMGV9_X1LIv6wJTfFfGeiLfCuqhKD_-gfOKlVjLHswT0ND3QfxuSeh3mQ/s320/View+2.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the Duoro with Grape Vine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It started to drizzle so we moved inside to the dining room for dessert - a baked cream (much like panna cotto) with a burnt sugar topping - panna cotto brulee? Of course, this was paired with a delicious port. Then we were led to the sleek, modern winery to see the barrels and bottles stacked in the underground cellars. We purchased a few bottles to bring home and paid our tab for lunch - 50 euros or about $65 each. Amazing. The menu wasn't particularly fancy or inventive, but everything was prepared and presented with utmost care and near perfection.<br />
<br />
Because Ian doesn't drink, wine tasting doesn't hold much fascination but great food does. Impressed by our lunch, he was eager to try a restaurant touted by the food critics - DOC - just down the road from our lodgings. DOC is housed in a modern, jewel box building right on the Douro river. Its floor to ceiling windows offer stunning views of the river and the surrounding vineyards. The riverside terrace offers al fresco dining in warm weather or is ideal for sunset cocktails. Rui Paula, the star chef of this contemporary restaurant offers food that is a far cry from traditional Portuguese cuisine. His forward-thinking menu offers octopus carpaccio, juicy veal, superb foi gras, and traditional salt cod with Mozambican prawns. Those of us who drink, enjoyed great regional wines with our dinner. Ian was very happy. The "wow" factor of DOC is huge but I didn't feel the joy I experienced at our lunch at Quinta do Vallado. Maybe because our lunch had been a private affair, with total pampering.<br />
<br />
<br />
Our last day was spent on a leisurely boat trip up the Duoro. The steep banks are terraced with vineyards and here and there are wineries and hotels. We sipped a chilled white wine provided by our captain as we gazed at the gorgeous scenery and the gray green waters of the Duoro. I love the Tuscan wine countryside with its outcropping of hill towns amid the rolling hills but there is something quite majestic about the Duoro as it slices and winds through the steep hills of this valley. It is definitely one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaqGJlCW1RsJxNqaaD9n2Xm3mftqzW6KCzWVzG5ZpQUvVvjAuIdDbhHJj0gWxpAIkkFQzVC4jPCr0xf1hp-TyU7iH8DnJaCXr1S1P8PsJIPV23OlV8SdWCohxpHy99c7JnVeWaA26bHhM/s1600/Ian+%2526+Martha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaqGJlCW1RsJxNqaaD9n2Xm3mftqzW6KCzWVzG5ZpQUvVvjAuIdDbhHJj0gWxpAIkkFQzVC4jPCr0xf1hp-TyU7iH8DnJaCXr1S1P8PsJIPV23OlV8SdWCohxpHy99c7JnVeWaA26bHhM/s320/Ian+%2526+Martha.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Martha & Ian </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-23506386201414652812012-01-09T13:34:00.000-08:002012-01-09T18:35:28.066-08:00Festa, Family & Food<div><br /><div><br /><div><div><div align="justify"> Before I started Stevie's Artisans Urban Fok Art, I curated for and managed the gift shop at the Bronx Museum of the Arts. And before that, I spent 9 months in Italy as a Fulbright Scholar researching a project about folk art, cultural traditions, music and food.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div align="justify"> <br /> Of course, I have tons of photos and lots to say about my project so I have begun doing presentations. My project, <em>Festa, Family and Food, </em>is a study of continuity, change and identity manifested in three saints' feasts celebrated both in Italy and in Italian-American communities in the US. The key themes of all three feasts are sacrifice and redemption, suffering, survival and communal rejoicing and celebration. The feasts honor three heroic and charasmatic figures (saints) who rescued their communities from destruction and ruin.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div align="justify"> <br /><br />Women and t<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgvFbLoNpViyFqBgBcxQomzPASfS3F3Y_L545hXtkRDSrjOmEenWDcE23XFLaimxCLWG5_bINtn71q_bjRn8ZhNwO7S69_-haXuXhRn4EG8w6nCtqoic5l-RnoE-KogUOpn4opRMdSzxU/s1600/007a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 175px; height: 200px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695824253228941778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgvFbLoNpViyFqBgBcxQomzPASfS3F3Y_L545hXtkRDSrjOmEenWDcE23XFLaimxCLWG5_bINtn71q_bjRn8ZhNwO7S69_-haXuXhRn4EG8w6nCtqoic5l-RnoE-KogUOpn4opRMdSzxU/s200/007a.jpg" /></a>heir daughters make bread, crafted in myriad shapes and forms, as the principle element used to decorate the altars and banquet tables created to celebrate the feast of St.Joseph in Sicily and New Orleans. Papier-mache is the art form used to create ornately sculpted facades for the 85-foot towers - the <em>giglio</em> - carried on the shoulders of men through the streets of Nola and <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2nqW1WeIiW2YDJ9qec228vtqi3wYnZSJ6Bwu0RF01D58tkiVfTSo4_pC8YfmGD7dwcDpdsNWwJDZ72K54Zf8qcQiAGnkjJJB6QfG5ABkSefCElbxFm5k6SAftJ6rfCJ6xR4YHmX8QKTA/s1600/009a.jpg"></a>Williamsburg, Brooklyn. The towers dance to music, all in honor of St Paulinus, who in the fifth century, rescued Nola's men from slavery at the hands of the Saracens. The C<em>eri </em>is a race through the streets of Gubbio and Jessup, Pennsylvania of three Baroque wooden towers born on the shoulders of a nine-man team, to honor St Ubaldo who saved his town in the eleventh century from sack and ruin by the Vandals.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div align="justify"> <br /><br /> This past November 17, I gave a presentation - commentary and power point photo presentation at the Italian American Museum in New York's Little Italy. I'm going to be presenting at the Brooklyn Historical Society on March 29, 2012. That presentation will focus on the <em>giglio</em> celebration in Brooklyn with background information of the celebration in Nola, Italy. Danny Vecchiano, leader of the Vecchiano Festival Band and archivist of American tradtional <em>giglio</em> music will join me. I wrote an article about Danny - <em>Born to Giglio </em>- for "Voices" the New York Folklore Society magazine. I am hoping <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoK_eCOTs9G_rVxFkvbUxB4dXP7WWcPMjq6AqGkOB7oqWeYypFW3C8GAGbqHnYbbciH0lp1vX8mWRmxQmTKhgJ6g1fcK2RVNb-1bLlt5SkB9Il81JYwJ-uEwVKqOnf2HD-87OTtmwKLFo/s1600/More+Giglio006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 150px; height: 200px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695823335090145714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoK_eCOTs9G_rVxFkvbUxB4dXP7WWcPMjq6AqGkOB7oqWeYypFW3C8GAGbqHnYbbciH0lp1vX8mWRmxQmTKhgJ6g1fcK2RVNb-1bLlt5SkB9Il81JYwJ-uEwVKqOnf2HD-87OTtmwKLFo/s200/More+Giglio006.JPG" /></a>Danny - a superb trumpeter - plays <em>giglio </em>music for us.</div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMeiz74kgl4nI0Gl9KDhrlxsDR_Zm0yIE2ssPSK43PIedF9H_5F7fXoLbcxzeVhr5wuDLQVNcIHYf_R5Ut7ITnuZ8dQumuJqgZLS79NaEI6yWAWur5WAsc0q9CHaYLMID24zZLEbV4NRQ/s1600/123a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 150px; height: 200px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695823862408437858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMeiz74kgl4nI0Gl9KDhrlxsDR_Zm0yIE2ssPSK43PIedF9H_5F7fXoLbcxzeVhr5wuDLQVNcIHYf_R5Ut7ITnuZ8dQumuJqgZLS79NaEI6yWAWur5WAsc0q9CHaYLMID24zZLEbV4NRQ/s200/123a.JPG" /></a></div><div><em></em> </div><div align="justify"><em><br /><br /> </em></div><div align="justify"><em></em> </div><div align="justify"><em></em> </div><div align="justify"><em></em> </div><div align="justify"><em></em> </div><div align="justify"><em></em> </div><div align="justify"><em><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <br /> <br /><br />Born to Giglio, </em>a celebration of a Brooklyn Neighborhood, will be Thursday, March 29, 2012 at 7:00 PM at the Brooklyn Historical Society on Pierrepont Street in Brooklyn Heights. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBiIERLkVrFv2OrwR21LmxgDURLpvbJqPJWXoJpu8sqQ4yI2flO45VElhyphenhypheni099Uaut7gL4yC9bnnreIc8St6Ak7SiXIptaiE_ovbY1qbErSwkUobwNExajPXkwg1g1kpkZblJerH56kT4/s1600/123a.JPG"></a></div></div></div></div></div>Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-49664873451605325792012-01-07T18:10:00.000-08:002012-01-07T18:29:56.036-08:00Naemeh's New Jewelry at Lily<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFpJi5sWencppTamOqGH43dOlFZvaFn6JGdw2lsSS128tDdsMv7taXDWs_-BEg2HZohCLEj-tH4orstKPsA5xttKpI_gd4g67qCXMk-QhGxm8r-uZETazCEVUsJ7M-c6Z5jVp8xzGc4I/s1600/Red+%2526+Black+rose+earrings+a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 186px; height: 200px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695082073115284082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFpJi5sWencppTamOqGH43dOlFZvaFn6JGdw2lsSS128tDdsMv7taXDWs_-BEg2HZohCLEj-tH4orstKPsA5xttKpI_gd4g67qCXMk-QhGxm8r-uZETazCEVUsJ7M-c6Z5jVp8xzGc4I/s200/Red+%2526+Black+rose+earrings+a.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimzxF8sBN0a35MxObCLg2MxRsTMnIIMpPNmBi-JdHy7hUQzNyp2-CTrX5ASfcNZLlKScC7vGKllKUlElnAcAW2jWS46LMSj41B8qrm8MuF7HfVPcByCoQv56qq8fox3VVZZ4iW0ay8SpY/s1600/Red+rose+cropped+b.jpg"><img style="width: 200px; height: 200px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695082277146797298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimzxF8sBN0a35MxObCLg2MxRsTMnIIMpPNmBi-JdHy7hUQzNyp2-CTrX5ASfcNZLlKScC7vGKllKUlElnAcAW2jWS46LMSj41B8qrm8MuF7HfVPcByCoQv56qq8fox3VVZZ4iW0ay8SpY/s200/Red+rose+cropped+b.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br /><div>Naemeh Shirazi's newest lace jewelry is now at <em>Lily</em> on Court Street in Brooklyn. <em>Lily </em>is a wonderful boutique on Court Street in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn. The owner, Jennifer, sells beautiful dresses by Karina ( I own two and I love them both) and gorgeous leather bags, hip jewelry, stylish sportswear and super, warm socks. It is a fabulous shop and I am so happy Jennifer wants to try out Naemeh's new "Roses" earrings and necklaces.<img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 177px; height: 200px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695081826416003538" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBi9YvO15EeRhAJPm8Cpfl20tRTWSkCAIl27INGGS1m5lTRocMD0KYRyL7cAdx5mPfWwWyJL7aaKNbaBfup6UZS_iGEcp8qzzTopFDJZtRZyFw7S89FzXUlM7LsOP3xkxgNyD7wmMDs8o/s200/red+brown+roses.jpg" /></div><div> </div><div>Last summer <em>Lily</em> carried some silk screened skirts and a tunic by Ivette Urbaez. Jennifer thinks the skirts will go well again so maybe two of Stevie's Artisans will be available at <em>Lily </em>on Court Street.</div><div> </div><div>Naemeh will do the earrings,necklaces and maybe some bracelets in spring colors, as well as her graphic red and black. Look for pink, kelly green, blue and yellow. And white!</div></div></div>Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-7077236341648358162011-12-31T12:39:00.000-08:002012-01-01T06:50:41.824-08:00Christmas Gifts from Stevie's Artisans<div><br /><div><div><br /><span></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFTwXQziu6tf4Zb5MYB5p6VPNj9O1lkfYA5KB-vUysE_daZEAtYU6TAz2BoTH_yXeNB9M5rt-5UiYf1w1r1uW2FVFJLehi8cIYGrztdGvf7vZyrbqh1VSfvRZJEqSgJQoFXZWp3lPs-34/s1600/green+cut+out.JPG"></a><br /><div><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJYYVtPTSgBPxW2c6-4JqyrooqDMyaXUg6AEwztYNNbxW5eHG5QgslRPo5T1qz_S1DdhE1Xc_SowUdVpdJ3e5HfXAPWfmy3fVR_xJGF56BLEla9XJq0CKw_-jayttxYjA2bZ_h8pxdtxc/s1600/double+asia+a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 150px; height: 200px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692668261925729762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJYYVtPTSgBPxW2c6-4JqyrooqDMyaXUg6AEwztYNNbxW5eHG5QgslRPo5T1qz_S1DdhE1Xc_SowUdVpdJ3e5HfXAPWfmy3fVR_xJGF56BLEla9XJq0CKw_-jayttxYjA2bZ_h8pxdtxc/s200/double+asia+a.jpg" /></a>My good friend Martha, who lives in England, bought some earrings from Stevie's Artisans Urban Folk Art for two friends who live in California. Bonnie received the silvery gray "Fleur de Lis" style and black "Double Asia." </div></div><div><div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXB2H_67pcXC0IHwYtVvtVtUNYcBa4qBxIpiWL7fJJf_poHhe4LIFBsaQUacwfdzBms3u5z3__9Js-JmCir_tclPAjAeUkmonXdFlPrSSF3p_Q2er1AJOFwn1GjTN9iBhwpTQG4-h7BBQ/s1600/Fleur+de+Lis+gray.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 200px; height: 150px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692398669187873058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXB2H_67pcXC0IHwYtVvtVtUNYcBa4qBxIpiWL7fJJf_poHhe4LIFBsaQUacwfdzBms3u5z3__9Js-JmCir_tclPAjAeUkmonXdFlPrSSF3p_Q2er1AJOFwn1GjTN9iBhwpTQG4-h7BBQ/s200/Fleur+de+Lis+gray.jpg" /></a></div><div> <div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdgkob2Uapfq1Hgn-3DjBMti-5nCdz-kV0j9LWHvhLNC92lDDyUaUK_TVd5slz65twmUI1yKYXioAriinpvZy0TQN0pXS0RekyFAQ71A_D5GbpTjVqwr-Y0tW3Ds6XHKD_sRSZKeKpnNc/s1600/double+asia+a.jpg"></a> </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdgkob2Uapfq1Hgn-3DjBMti-5nCdz-kV0j9LWHvhLNC92lDDyUaUK_TVd5slz65twmUI1yKYXioAriinpvZy0TQN0pXS0RekyFAQ71A_D5GbpTjVqwr-Y0tW3Ds6XHKD_sRSZKeKpnNc/s1600/double+asia+a.jpg"></a> </div></div><div> <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXB2H_67pcXC0IHwYtVvtVtUNYcBa4qBxIpiWL7fJJf_poHhe4LIFBsaQUacwfdzBms3u5z3__9Js-JmCir_tclPAjAeUkmonXdFlPrSSF3p_Q2er1AJOFwn1GjTN9iBhwpTQG4-h7BBQ/s1600/Fleur+de+Lis+gray.jpg"></a> </div></div><div> </div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXB2H_67pcXC0IHwYtVvtVtUNYcBa4qBxIpiWL7fJJf_poHhe4LIFBsaQUacwfdzBms3u5z3__9Js-JmCir_tclPAjAeUkmonXdFlPrSSF3p_Q2er1AJOFwn1GjTN9iBhwpTQG4-h7BBQ/s1600/Fleur+de+Lis+gray.jpg"></a> </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3dOCzybICnhmBjYh_s_ko3QpvRhGJd0fc1rbT5-hgAqeQJpBdXb2ObtHmrQg8ciJNa6iCUAgeepU33CDCDumjwS1ijshBLODoAqbkX0p5bPvVkduyg_-H2UuGfy0I8bs4qSY6xr5MhVg/s1600/red+lace+1.jpg"></a></div><div> <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdgkob2Uapfq1Hgn-3DjBMti-5nCdz-kV0j9LWHvhLNC92lDDyUaUK_TVd5slz65twmUI1yKYXioAriinpvZy0TQN0pXS0RekyFAQ71A_D5GbpTjVqwr-Y0tW3Ds6XHKD_sRSZKeKpnNc/s1600/double+asia+a.jpg"></a> </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc66msdEmxGXh2tdaxS7hNCqQ-CZRBpMha5J_XHqf6u1ybZIXMtkUUgbo3YcWDDWcPz76CbRkXL9PxmtOm2pSsYfqDRYWjPUHO9E0Vy_brbsx0ygc1MVYEtn4KONRAgBTmvW7FRK_gSh4/s1600/red+lace+1.jpg"></a></div><div> </div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjmQtTmi-gqjUkiBefMeeJm-ARrCYT0fOYyFcbtsD6bo-nX1KfkRY-hENfgW4jOI7pwTNutaBOWpdaJpAL-0NmtsqFKp9N3PDDuX-heC5V8ghFVKuEqt71FQqoecH_SosGg2L5_V4cN8I/s1600/green+cut+out.JPG"><img style="width: 164px; height: 200px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692675450428473090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjmQtTmi-gqjUkiBefMeeJm-ARrCYT0fOYyFcbtsD6bo-nX1KfkRY-hENfgW4jOI7pwTNutaBOWpdaJpAL-0NmtsqFKp9N3PDDuX-heC5V8ghFVKuEqt71FQqoecH_SosGg2L5_V4cN8I/s200/green+cut+out.JPG" /></a></div><div> </div><div><div> Meg received "Big Red Rose" and green "Cut out Leaves" earrings. </div></div><div align="justify">All arrived in time for Christmas and all are sculpted from lace</div><div align="justify">by Naemeh Shirazi of Stevie's Artisans Urban Folk Art.</div><div> </div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWhZnZvOj7kn2nfhGTFii7a65vgFUnUDW2FIrTPQcyswX_8C4ubcHZitVhFBfchyphenhyphenKGDO8kA4BpSaRPSjTSpDS1SweHeXzT4AubpHGNYl5YyAJUt24olNwMzVf5Yi1KsgGP-TR3vmW-lDI/s1600/red+lace+1.jpg"><img style="width: 200px; height: 150px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692674963861006114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWhZnZvOj7kn2nfhGTFii7a65vgFUnUDW2FIrTPQcyswX_8C4ubcHZitVhFBfchyphenhyphenKGDO8kA4BpSaRPSjTSpDS1SweHeXzT4AubpHGNYl5YyAJUt24olNwMzVf5Yi1KsgGP-TR3vmW-lDI/s200/red+lace+1.jpg" /></a></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> <div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLvuPuNZ-5FlFQjbwh5L61Uzm7v8mpPnu5vu6f2uaAfFpgi2HvrEQ-PzCNAlXbgQ7pbVOSEEYqOJulteLFYGJsd13b-DiL39jqMxl3VPRPKrysfMLCNJHniS0pQw6-UQiWWGOiw-6RXpY/s1600/red+lace+1.jpg"></a> </div></div><div> <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxHvq1-kRIi6RLUrvJLQS5URwvddp6XEFXKAom3qZjyXc-uV_qlD1rPmWBi-bvTDhCiQjXL-xLpro9mVAIzB1iqZSy2XV4yjeDkKYzXn6W1EDYFBHUcl1-_vHcPLJ5A-mDDCJsfdM8abM/s1600/red+lace+1.jpg"></a> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-45279776660039719482011-10-26T15:05:00.000-07:002011-12-31T09:33:15.950-08:00Lace Roses in Sarasota, Florida<div><br /><div><br /><div><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px; height: 190px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668502599530393586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyOGLzQRqR8_OHfrQhe-bEwSNpXHtOaeZRcj5uJAGIifwSEX6A6bVUfkngIj7fyVjzqvaDuzlgMzN58uqcj7CU5lQTh8L76Lbh83W_lpHeH2uOq0LGFDL7T0v5bxyYQdHqSTdL9IEY1Zg/s200/Taxi+clock.JPG" />Last week I took a little break and visited some friends in Sarasota, Florida. Julie and her husband Vinnie are artists and designers who create museum installations through their company, Ciulla Designs. Julie makes gorgeous gold jewelry based on archaeological designs and Vinnie creates fantasy collages - bathing beauties riding manatees, water skiers pulled by NYC taxis under the Brooklyn Bridge, etc. Julie bought a couple of pairs of Naemeh Shirazi's lace earrings and suggested I visit and show some of the Stevie's Artisans' work at some Sarasota shops.<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div> </div><div><br /> </div><div> We get together whenever they are in NYC - usually dinner at Al di La Restaurant in Park Slope - but I have been <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxphfPm9yYBgRbDyPlhR_4x4FCTLYF7yZIDWRxX13YD8N44g6zx9TzljHT8pzRDoKYkM2_s2OlUJ_WWepppMgmKWSm9iHzughlZto1v4reSEejHZY0iBJVdDbUdWl1HJo2SCXLVV5dtGY/s1600/rudolph_umbrella_house2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 200px; height: 132px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692345437122828674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxphfPm9yYBgRbDyPlhR_4x4FCTLYF7yZIDWRxX13YD8N44g6zx9TzljHT8pzRDoKYkM2_s2OlUJ_WWepppMgmKWSm9iHzughlZto1v4reSEejHZY0iBJVdDbUdWl1HJo2SCXLVV5dtGY/s200/rudolph_umbrella_house2.jpg" /></a>longing to visit them and see the mid-century modernist home they live in. They bought and have been restoring Paul Rudolph's masterpiece, the Umbrella House. The house has an elegant glass jalousies facade with lots of built in cabinetry features inside. The "umbrella" is a trellised canopy system that shades and cools the house - remember, houses weren't as extensively air-conditioned in the 1950's and 1960's when this house was built.</div></div><div><div><br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmOxwRuk_14v6ZHxebZehJXO6hhF5t8Exwoj9PbvPaq9yqsYjnBMARwc5cbBmKNhczaZg5v-kT7kKGHChxrIBbCc-aUDt7VYr8CTOtQUk1jRZC4S86xhlQvXEQloDFmHXphhrFyeloHIE/s1600/red+tulip+dress.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 134px; height: 200px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692341085555156018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmOxwRuk_14v6ZHxebZehJXO6hhF5t8Exwoj9PbvPaq9yqsYjnBMARwc5cbBmKNhczaZg5v-kT7kKGHChxrIBbCc-aUDt7VYr8CTOtQUk1jRZC4S86xhlQvXEQloDFmHXphhrFyeloHIE/s200/red+tulip+dress.jpg" /></a></div><div>I met with Liby (Elizabeth Rice) at her home furnishings gallery/shop - she loved Naemeh's silver vine leaves earrings & pendants and also really liked the Ivette Urbaez silk screened dress I was wearing (red tulip dress) I met with the manager of her apparel/accessories shop - Terra Nova and Cheryl Ralya seemed to like the lace jewelry more and agreed Ivette's tulip dress, fire escape tunic, and teal roses & thorns skirt would go well in the shop. How exciting for Naemeh and Ivette! I left jewelry samples with Julie to show to the buyer at the Ringling Museum gift shop. I think Naemeh's rose pendant and earrings would really compliment Mabel Ringling's "roses"</div><div>artwork/accessories collection.</div><div><br /> </div><div> <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilB4A4HzG1O_D4ZlXwLq845P7kSDwhmCcHeS-_tfdJzeKBGBGOF1qsZJUmT-83zAegg0NsUduczJMlS05sf7Z1YAVROaJBmLeplFWCkFuUNipQjkOhX_QWcAfqQbjBOJpSjq8dZeVkKd0/s1600/Red+%2526+Black+rose+earrings+a.jpg"><img style="width: 186px; height: 200px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692332141065500354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilB4A4HzG1O_D4ZlXwLq845P7kSDwhmCcHeS-_tfdJzeKBGBGOF1qsZJUmT-83zAegg0NsUduczJMlS05sf7Z1YAVROaJBmLeplFWCkFuUNipQjkOhX_QWcAfqQbjBOJpSjq8dZeVkKd0/s200/Red+%2526+Black+rose+earrings+a.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFgwv5zyUMRZUB52Ky3ks_P5C6JIjR7BTOBeopI2rxp8PspgEBP1RloSh_RAQXmI1u09csc1_vlMlWGxC-1BCPsfJQxQxSlQRN6ISa5ro8k-XRHOodmLcVWsEn1R8cg_UCBq2C4aepaS0/s1600/red+tulip+dress.jpg"></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1R75IfJXQExv0-sZhqMxPrnNJv5pkrbyl_pmLn4W8vVDvuuJ3yErH6gyDjAkJNBA6_r9DX9Au-9EzndpqkOsF_gufOvmL9lpUZXUIDD4kuiZ7r5uWXv254jqJ6AC-RA80jN_7kRrtfoE/s1600/Red+rose+bracelet+%2526+pendant+b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px; height: 200px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692339575254052818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1R75IfJXQExv0-sZhqMxPrnNJv5pkrbyl_pmLn4W8vVDvuuJ3yErH6gyDjAkJNBA6_r9DX9Au-9EzndpqkOsF_gufOvmL9lpUZXUIDD4kuiZ7r5uWXv254jqJ6AC-RA80jN_7kRrtfoE/s200/Red+rose+bracelet+%2526+pendant+b.jpg" /></a></div></div><div><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFgwv5zyUMRZUB52Ky3ks_P5C6JIjR7BTOBeopI2rxp8PspgEBP1RloSh_RAQXmI1u09csc1_vlMlWGxC-1BCPsfJQxQxSlQRN6ISa5ro8k-XRHOodmLcVWsEn1R8cg_UCBq2C4aepaS0/s1600/red+tulip+dress.jpg"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFgwv5zyUMRZUB52Ky3ks_P5C6JIjR7BTOBeopI2rxp8PspgEBP1RloSh_RAQXmI1u09csc1_vlMlWGxC-1BCPsfJQxQxSlQRN6ISa5ro8k-XRHOodmLcVWsEn1R8cg_UCBq2C4aepaS0/s1600/red+tulip+dress.jpg"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFgwv5zyUMRZUB52Ky3ks_P5C6JIjR7BTOBeopI2rxp8PspgEBP1RloSh_RAQXmI1u09csc1_vlMlWGxC-1BCPsfJQxQxSlQRN6ISa5ro8k-XRHOodmLcVWsEn1R8cg_UCBq2C4aepaS0/s1600/red+tulip+dress.jpg"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFgwv5zyUMRZUB52Ky3ks_P5C6JIjR7BTOBeopI2rxp8PspgEBP1RloSh_RAQXmI1u09csc1_vlMlWGxC-1BCPsfJQxQxSlQRN6ISa5ro8k-XRHOodmLcVWsEn1R8cg_UCBq2C4aepaS0/s1600/red+tulip+dress.jpg"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFgwv5zyUMRZUB52Ky3ks_P5C6JIjR7BTOBeopI2rxp8PspgEBP1RloSh_RAQXmI1u09csc1_vlMlWGxC-1BCPsfJQxQxSlQRN6ISa5ro8k-XRHOodmLcVWsEn1R8cg_UCBq2C4aepaS0/s1600/red+tulip+dress.jpg"></a></div><div> </div><div>So, what else did I do in Sarasota because I didn't go for all work and no play. Julie and Vinnie have a lovely pool in their back yard and we also swam in the Gulf - warm and a really cool green color - unlike the aqua blue of the Mediterranean or the Caribbean. Julie and I went looking for alligators at the Myakka River State Park - no gator sighting but lots of hero and oak trees dripping with Spanish moss. I sat in at a rehearsal of the Key Chorale, the community chorus Julie sings with. (For years, Julie and I sang togther and served on the board of the Brooklyn Philharmonia Chorus.) The Key Chorale are fabulous and they are performing terrific music - Britten's "Saint Nicholas Cantata."<div><div> </div></div><div><div> </div><div>The day before I left I had lunch with Julie and friends from either the chorus and/or her rowing group - all terrifically interesting ladies in business, the arts, and some retired. Cheryl rows with Julie & Vinnie and Mary Chadsey creates amazing majolica pottery in her studio Mariooch. We are talking about her joining Stevie's Artisans Urban Folk Art.</div></div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFgwv5zyUMRZUB52Ky3ks_P5C6JIjR7BTOBeopI2rxp8PspgEBP1RloSh_RAQXmI1u09csc1_vlMlWGxC-1BCPsfJQxQxSlQRN6ISa5ro8k-XRHOodmLcVWsEn1R8cg_UCBq2C4aepaS0/s1600/red+tulip+dress.jpg"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFgwv5zyUMRZUB52Ky3ks_P5C6JIjR7BTOBeopI2rxp8PspgEBP1RloSh_RAQXmI1u09csc1_vlMlWGxC-1BCPsfJQxQxSlQRN6ISa5ro8k-XRHOodmLcVWsEn1R8cg_UCBq2C4aepaS0/s1600/red+tulip+dress.jpg"></a></div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFgwv5zyUMRZUB52Ky3ks_P5C6JIjR7BTOBeopI2rxp8PspgEBP1RloSh_RAQXmI1u09csc1_vlMlWGxC-1BCPsfJQxQxSlQRN6ISa5ro8k-XRHOodmLcVWsEn1R8cg_UCBq2C4aepaS0/s1600/red+tulip+dress.jpg"></a></div><div><div><a 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href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQN4ICPbuLsqDYSvVoI-rInplyYecC7IsF1_teEU7eL_wIGkCiItjzqabhVyhbiAT7Mg2BvuYnBSzdASI4Oww33d_CGDLa8DmRAbWPqCKaLs_q0IEmu3uLiBBbCpfqYM5nsJ8grJwiEmo/s1600/Red+rose+bracelet+%2526+pendant+b.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFgwv5zyUMRZUB52Ky3ks_P5C6JIjR7BTOBeopI2rxp8PspgEBP1RloSh_RAQXmI1u09csc1_vlMlWGxC-1BCPsfJQxQxSlQRN6ISa5ro8k-XRHOodmLcVWsEn1R8cg_UCBq2C4aepaS0/s1600/red+tulip+dress.jpg"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFgwv5zyUMRZUB52Ky3ks_P5C6JIjR7BTOBeopI2rxp8PspgEBP1RloSh_RAQXmI1u09csc1_vlMlWGxC-1BCPsfJQxQxSlQRN6ISa5ro8k-XRHOodmLcVWsEn1R8cg_UCBq2C4aepaS0/s1600/red+tulip+dress.jpg"></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-81305196695595359042011-10-14T09:40:00.000-07:002011-10-26T12:37:50.834-07:00Fashion on the Street<span style="font-size:130%;">A Chance Encounter</span><br /><br />A couple of Sundays ago two friends (Sharon Fahlstrom & <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Vigdis</span> Eriksen) and I were on our way to see<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEudyQ46rlLTXT_aJ1wr5JMk_2ktQFgqO24UHst_s_xsKN-edJ0eZqveZMa_MsU4x8_dzVzT4eU1y_29iINcF80LjEphDRQv1oaf-wLPyh8gleQnO9CwfKNjk84DxOPYAIjs8tviG8hGI/s1600/IMG_1871.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEudyQ46rlLTXT_aJ1wr5JMk_2ktQFgqO24UHst_s_xsKN-edJ0eZqveZMa_MsU4x8_dzVzT4eU1y_29iINcF80LjEphDRQv1oaf-wLPyh8gleQnO9CwfKNjk84DxOPYAIjs8tviG8hGI/s200/IMG_1871.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663425731984720834" border="0" /></a> an exhibition at the New Museum on the Bowery when I had one of those great chance moments. You might even call it a New York moment. I was half way down the stairs to the Borough Hall subway station when I saw a flash of one of Ivette <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Urbaez's</span> silk screen designs going by. "She's wearing one of Ivette's dresses. I need a picture," I shouted to my friends.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Vigdis</span> whipped out her camera while I ran down the street to stop the girl and beg her to pose for a photo. After I caught up with her, I blathered on about Stevie's Artisans - my company - I represent the artist who designed the dress she was wearing, etc.<br /><br />Her loo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8UfvqOslrshuDMyANsQ-YLAxKbNglaKh_1f-s1Bsn1u_lGcJPJe9NSXKcXNU3AiDKy17_3V03iIaGFefl6sPMZSKygW377Ge7MQaWea3GnTpPZRooPKotHhiMECbhLK4egwn099mrtLw/s1600/IMG_1873+%25282%2529.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8UfvqOslrshuDMyANsQ-YLAxKbNglaKh_1f-s1Bsn1u_lGcJPJe9NSXKcXNU3AiDKy17_3V03iIaGFefl6sPMZSKygW377Ge7MQaWea3GnTpPZRooPKotHhiMECbhLK4egwn099mrtLw/s200/IMG_1873+%25282%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667886611977083778" border="0" /></a>k was very cool. She was wearing Ivette's racer back tunic/dress: gray cotton with a black abstract silk screen print of fire escapes. She had accessorized with a cotton scarf and she was wearing sneakers with electric green laces.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqO22jGZmf5yTnguQ2jTU76CoPKfV1xNFqGiXzGvOP0HCRRa3GAzd9TUz-ns-CTNL_lea1-llG4wRUNYr9e_4FE52MoG1Act05CGUTT6pefBT4oET_I2tzQkdq1x2n08kyWznNMYQmmmk/s1600/IMG_1872+%25281%2529.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqO22jGZmf5yTnguQ2jTU76CoPKfV1xNFqGiXzGvOP0HCRRa3GAzd9TUz-ns-CTNL_lea1-llG4wRUNYr9e_4FE52MoG1Act05CGUTT6pefBT4oET_I2tzQkdq1x2n08kyWznNMYQmmmk/s200/IMG_1872+%25281%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663424639056366050" border="0" /></a><br />She was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">totally</span> happy to let me take a few photos because she said she absolutely loved the dress, loved how well it fit and was amazed because she always had such a hard time buying dresses. She told me she also loves the shop where she made her purchase - Lily on Court Street in Brooklyn.<br /><br />She was so gracious and I forgot to ask her name. So I thanked the mystery Ivette fan and then we all went on our ways. A very serendipitous chance encounter!Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-30758223081727140492011-06-21T07:07:00.000-07:002012-02-06T15:21:54.952-08:00Sardines, Bacalau & Fado<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrMJ1JTCJXmNtRfck3858z8hsDzg_-xGXfcpPBqLkRcSE-NPggOUcpEUWEfGiONqi8-ZUgNFsRksBHc9xWgvA0oefR7TkXxABQC1zKNlWnOjzSljw-x-QpZqW-FQ6HSUZpPuc7rgBfnnM/s1600/Lisbon+005+%25282%2529.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrMJ1JTCJXmNtRfck3858z8hsDzg_-xGXfcpPBqLkRcSE-NPggOUcpEUWEfGiONqi8-ZUgNFsRksBHc9xWgvA0oefR7TkXxABQC1zKNlWnOjzSljw-x-QpZqW-FQ6HSUZpPuc7rgBfnnM/s200/Lisbon+005+%25282%2529.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706022667417760594" /></a><br /><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKqoOpew5ir-GC0WGbyCF3vtDqn9j6wl5DJ0aMx2ma1QgXeaqlit8M0SAOqWdDYGy8yJkmWM7Qy1KfCSmetHOovcfY-OOpX2ViekVP4v4ZvyuRnxizg5FHEivQa1S2vEiaMGqjrqPe7I/s200/Lisbon+016.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706025615559347474" /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I recently vacationed in Portugal - Lisbon, Porto and the Douro wine region. My husband, Tony and I were joined by long time friends who live in England. Martha was my college roommate and I've known her husband as long as she's known him - since 1970. We like vacationing together.</div><div><br />We shared a 2 bedroom, 2 bath apartment in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Baixia</span></span> neighborhood of Lisbon on a pedestrian street lined with restaurants and stores, very near to lots of public transportation (Metro, buses, trolley, trams) and the harbor. We also had access to the very affordable taxis.<br /><br /><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-7wmiYPwq3UDEK9iFN7QshN2Yp2mhS5-cPUGdcj2C_1BflhqbMwoDX3MwzCbXmoAmg1F30to-Li86QBEStmgZDcrWnmnWU3OMGiVnAjvl1P0LGKYYZySeWV-RNYdIamU8biYaPMSW3k/s200/Lisbon+004+a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706024382384131554" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></div><div><span><u><br /></u></span><br />Lisbon is fantastically hilly with meandering streets in the older districts. Luckily our neighborhood was flat and the streets were on a grid - a result of the area being totally destroyed by earthquake and fire in the mid 1700's. Unlike Italy where the building and houses are stuccoed in gorgeous colors - sienna, ochre, umber, pink, blue, etc, the facades of Lisbon's buildings are covered in ceramic tiles. Each house is different so the effect is a crazy quilt of different patterns, colors and textures - wonderfully riotous. Although Portugal faces the Atlantic, the red-tiled rooftops present a rather Mediterranean look.<br /><br /><br /></div><div>I ate lots of fish, especially sardines and cod - which makes sense for a nation with so much ocean coastline. The sardines were just coming into season as signs in all the restaurants informed us. I mostly ate them grilled and doused with Portugal's splendid olive oil, however the best I ate - lightly floured and sauteed in olive oil were at a roadside dive on our way to the wine country. Usually the sardines were served with boiled potatoes that were salted and bathed in olive oil. Simple but incredibly delicious.<br /><br />The cod was pretty much always <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">baccalau</span></span> - salted cod, but unlike what I usually find here it was thick cuts of cod that had been salted, then reconstituted with rinsing. I love fresh cod, but the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">baccalau</span></span> had a smokey flavor and a much meatier texture than fresh cod. Sometimes I had it grilled but the best was baked in olive oil with a crunchy corn bread topping. It was luscious with interesting textures. The bakeries served lovely croissants and rolls and a really wonderful dessert called tart do Belem (a puff pastry shell filled with a creamy custard with a burnt sugar topping. A little like a creme <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">brulee</span></span> but not so egg <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">custardy</span></span>.)<br /></div><div> </div><div>We <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8FtuOYuIIRWu-Jq8HaP53j6SM0ltFNt_XA3unqd9AmyvUg33ImtzO7wEhjiMNAUxKWO5zjJCQoHj6cG_IqAiHh_9fHqPgAWHDVrnRhQrCnBDOhW6AfsOOtUuhpsNPuBwgT9DdkmSdoFU/s1600/fado+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 150px; height: 200px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704140479533642130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8FtuOYuIIRWu-Jq8HaP53j6SM0ltFNt_XA3unqd9AmyvUg33ImtzO7wEhjiMNAUxKWO5zjJCQoHj6cG_IqAiHh_9fHqPgAWHDVrnRhQrCnBDOhW6AfsOOtUuhpsNPuBwgT9DdkmSdoFU/s200/fado+1.jpg" /></a>went to Portugal for <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fado</span></span> - a bluesy vocal music that began in the dockside bars of Lisbon a hundred of so years ago. The musical accompaniment is guitar and a Portuguese 12 string guitar that looks a bit like a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">viola <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">da</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">gamba</span></span> (a medieval guitar.) The singers, mostly women, usually sing <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">torchy</span></span>, bluesy songs about love, loss, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Lisboa</span></span> or simply fate (<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">fado</span></span>) and there is often some improvisation with the lyrics. The best <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fado</span></span> clubs are in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">Alfama</span></span> section of Lisbon - the oldest neighborhood that still has vestiges (especially the tile work) of the long Muslim rule in Portugal. Everyone recommended Club do <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fado</span></span> - a venue for mostly younger, up and coming <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fado</span></span> singers. The next night we went to a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">Parreinha</span> Cafe, a restaurant/club owned by a retired <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fadista</span></span> Argentina Santos. We listened to older, more established singers - a good contrast from the performers of the previous evening. The food was exceptional and I tasted a suggested aperitif: white port.<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"></span> The flavor was somewhat reminiscent of a dry sherry and made a terrific <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">pre</span></span>-dinner cocktail.<br /><br />I loved riding the tram on a roller coaster like ride up and down Lisbon's steep hills. On one early morning run I found myself in a little courtyard festooned with laundry hung overhead. One line had all lacy panties, another brassieres and the third was socks. Oh, I wish I had carried my camera, but I usually run as unencumbered as possible. One evening after dinner I decided to check out the Red Line on the Lisbon Metro. It's the newest line and each of the six stations is decorated by different artists in different motifs. The terminus is a three tier construction with soaring steel trusses designed by the noted Spanish architect, Santiago <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">Calatrava</span>.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiTTHPG6MWNePspYX7htO32kxkKlFOcAuVJQOoGG2GB_3ZXZNncIKFMg348h4FUkni4semtgxMRFHafrN76j6x48Snrt6NQCxKfHLr77rd0EYQrTENKGc66wi_zbGoJBMlGdn0vRWRmbU/s1600/Lisbon+180+a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 150px; height: 200px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704139378320892562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiTTHPG6MWNePspYX7htO32kxkKlFOcAuVJQOoGG2GB_3ZXZNncIKFMg348h4FUkni4semtgxMRFHafrN76j6x48Snrt6NQCxKfHLr77rd0EYQrTENKGc66wi_zbGoJBMlGdn0vRWRmbU/s200/Lisbon+180+a.jpg" /></a></div><div> </div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOFWmQUyeHmhie6vSHUpYD1aU6rsM_xuOCHeRjRWJQuRESV6hgIIfZ0dcDqiDobLsjXkcuvZ1dielcHV-WGcBay4zOf6dtv1ZbT0Uxtq1Hb4fvu_6x6hyphenhyphenSZgVjqE2KRZpyqPrwhiK8L2U/s1600/Lisbon+170+a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px; height: 150px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704139728753754978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOFWmQUyeHmhie6vSHUpYD1aU6rsM_xuOCHeRjRWJQuRESV6hgIIfZ0dcDqiDobLsjXkcuvZ1dielcHV-WGcBay4zOf6dtv1ZbT0Uxtq1Hb4fvu_6x6hyphenhyphenSZgVjqE2KRZpyqPrwhiK8L2U/s200/Lisbon+170+a.jpg" /></a></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Most of the artwork in the stations was painted tile installations: cartoon images or amoeba swirls or a fabulous crazy quilt design that also incorporated a 3 dimensional quality in the way it was installed in recesses and pop-outs. There were also terrific iron-work railings and metal sculptures. My friend Sharon had a similar experience exploring the art filled stations of the Moscow Metro. Then it was on to Porto for more art and Fado and wine. Lots of good wine.</div></div></div></div>Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-90518281942722062722011-05-14T07:06:00.000-07:002011-10-26T11:29:52.272-07:00Time Passes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Rlvr6t6Y9rdmzq1q64BGwtiUeZi0m2H0atpm3H5W2OLEUmKfcmpy2wsrD8PqbpD0QMgTtOTm1SrINS_l13KrrTn7oQujzOYQn1JPPrO9ROC3Z3nd_wGXtz1YZurTGjw7aUz538_WUyY/s1600/bio.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 133px; display: block; height: 200px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608067885751805346" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Rlvr6t6Y9rdmzq1q64BGwtiUeZi0m2H0atpm3H5W2OLEUmKfcmpy2wsrD8PqbpD0QMgTtOTm1SrINS_l13KrrTn7oQujzOYQn1JPPrO9ROC3Z3nd_wGXtz1YZurTGjw7aUz538_WUyY/s200/bio.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />A friend told me she is putting together her summer reading for her two week vacation in Maine in August and she just ordered my husband, Tony Scaduto's biography of Bob Dylan on Kindle. Tony published that book just before we started living together back in the early 70's. It was the first biography of Dylan and many still consider it the best. Full disclosure: I like Dylan, but have never been a huge fan and I've never been one to read non-fiction, least of all biographies. However, I loved Tony's book because it fully captured the music, the politics, and the feelings of the 60's era. For me, his book really evoked the emotional upheaval we all had just lived through and experienced - a fantastic accomplishment for a writer.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJU0vuISBBenKXvsqwuW5TaNk3l84il0ovy7EY1pkidGB6Oqrtp4zv6rzN34U033D7ii9tWMBwwN216sG2p21Kh1rfScMNOa8ZiFf6Jixl8alb_8SLOwPwYswVu6BQzq9kzw7ryWsiMcc/s1600/bdsuze.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 200px; float: left; height: 200px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608066633463395634" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJU0vuISBBenKXvsqwuW5TaNk3l84il0ovy7EY1pkidGB6Oqrtp4zv6rzN34U033D7ii9tWMBwwN216sG2p21Kh1rfScMNOa8ZiFf6Jixl8alb_8SLOwPwYswVu6BQzq9kzw7ryWsiMcc/s200/bdsuze.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGH3fPY6ptTJBUk7ol77Hzrm6J_1sV3kWPY5DHle4NztLLQbXgbuu7UF02tlIwWeFI_c0P8lLB5A8Zt7HnV8FgOFEdkakaeO9KY0KMRdvjfP6CqxF5XofCdozHA86jTVDuJ8i33mHXffQ/s1600/suze.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 200px; display: block; height: 133px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608067284182378898" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGH3fPY6ptTJBUk7ol77Hzrm6J_1sV3kWPY5DHle4NztLLQbXgbuu7UF02tlIwWeFI_c0P8lLB5A8Zt7HnV8FgOFEdkakaeO9KY0KMRdvjfP6CqxF5XofCdozHA86jTVDuJ8i33mHXffQ/s200/suze.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />One of the iconic figures of that time, Suze Rotolo, died recently. She is remembered as the girlfriend on Bob Dylan's arm on the album cover of "Freewheelin' Bob Dylan" and although Tony was never able to talk to Suze when he was writing his book, many years later we became friends. Suze was a great beauty, a very principled person and a wonderful artist. She and her husband Enzo were warm and generous hosts - and we shared many delicious meals, good wine and stimulating conversations. As she requested, her memorial, held a couple of weeks ago, was a wonderful party with music, her favorite foods prepared by her son Luca and a gorgeous slide show of images put together by Enzo - a beautiful celebration.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiON5VSdJxOjU7bv2o3_XdnUto2xh1j_z5FZIs7AowQOpRhFEq0AA8BoQZu2itfjHM6LxcWEc6UO1Ghj4c_yNWuMO-PyMmz22wgHWjLwy9NBrKAhbfQQppmUU9dCcbmoz542YdJNIUDBzM/s1600/llady.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 133px; float: right; height: 200px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607767376730266002" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiON5VSdJxOjU7bv2o3_XdnUto2xh1j_z5FZIs7AowQOpRhFEq0AA8BoQZu2itfjHM6LxcWEc6UO1Ghj4c_yNWuMO-PyMmz22wgHWjLwy9NBrKAhbfQQppmUU9dCcbmoz542YdJNIUDBzM/s200/llady.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />On May 5 we went to a reading and book launch for Heywood Gould - author and screenwriter of Cocktail, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTcyc_xdTVcpfXrCL6ZQaPM84l26lMahXP5UjUmczdoiP1GvMqcIra1hreQiKzkHyiuLtbvPN5aTIAJbKGMmvBlvmEkBsO8Yq2QTkZPsiVPduElJ-AxWVHNE0AueIo8puBh3vFQ1s1Mw/s1600/cocktail.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 88px; float: left; height: 128px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607766950371168802" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTcyc_xdTVcpfXrCL6ZQaPM84l26lMahXP5UjUmczdoiP1GvMqcIra1hreQiKzkHyiuLtbvPN5aTIAJbKGMmvBlvmEkBsO8Yq2QTkZPsiVPduElJ-AxWVHNE0AueIo8puBh3vFQ1s1Mw/s200/cocktail.jpg" border="0" /></a>Double Bang, Fort Apache the Bronx, etc. I haven't read his new book yet - The Serial Killer's Daughter - but I really loved the last one - Leading Lady. Lots of old friends - from Woody's NY Post days, his bar tending days and his TV and movie days - reminisced at the dinner afterward. They regaled each other with drinking stories and journalism tales: big stories covered and how they ended up at the NY Post in the first place. They had all started as copy boys and then worked their way through the ranks as police reporter and then feature writers. Invariably there was mention of friends & colleagues who have passed away: Vic Ziegel and a then last week, Leonard Katz.<br /><br />Lenny Katz had been in rehab recovering from a fall that resulted in a broken hip. He and Tony talk<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7QiHST74ef0VWRKlm9xxo6T3TkkcSaCBbDxVp-ohqrXOTB0IbtOihT_c8E0JX2soZ6jXNrBSh8QDDRN5PFXFmW-jl0XVwpl8uSUgZiiK942spqfsr0UPKyHjsmG1qBhp128u5OLIRZ0/s1600/katz.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 84px; float: right; height: 130px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607762368898423186" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7QiHST74ef0VWRKlm9xxo6T3TkkcSaCBbDxVp-ohqrXOTB0IbtOihT_c8E0JX2soZ6jXNrBSh8QDDRN5PFXFmW-jl0XVwpl8uSUgZiiK942spqfsr0UPKyHjsmG1qBhp128u5OLIRZ0/s200/katz.jpg" border="0" /></a>ed weekly and Lenny was always upbeat and optimistic - a real fighter. What a shock that he succumbed to what turned out to be lots of complications. Tony and I saw him last October when we were in Florida for a family wedding. We had a rather forgettable lunch at a Chinese restaurant in a West Palm Beach mall but Lenny was funny and sharp and extended his usual gracious invitation for us to visit with him and his lovely wife, Marilyn. He and Tony sat on a bench outside the restaurant, smoking their cigarettes and chatting before we headed back to our hotel. Two tough old guys having their moment. It was sweet and now, a touching last memory of Leonard Katz, author of a biography of Frank Costello, journalist and terrific police reporter.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div>Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-87209740943504562142011-04-28T05:53:00.000-07:002011-04-28T13:56:32.097-07:00By the Sea Quilts<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfjXrhqLjSgIw8TzSzHvmXS_d2d1XIDC0Phm1bGrD54VKEO8tqYgbg20kJ4hGLWrWEVBoR50h4rx0smHjDfgquF2VV8X1cHHjU3ZIa9D93YSmSVnzzbcz7k5CSWXP3uckJUSpEX0kacCA/s1600/sciacca+1+a.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 149px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600737739082946994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfjXrhqLjSgIw8TzSzHvmXS_d2d1XIDC0Phm1bGrD54VKEO8tqYgbg20kJ4hGLWrWEVBoR50h4rx0smHjDfgquF2VV8X1cHHjU3ZIa9D93YSmSVnzzbcz7k5CSWXP3uckJUSpEX0kacCA/s200/sciacca+1+a.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600709106553281746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicMwzIGTKH_OMc9PJ3CINKJBUvKH5rKQOwWNUEYSKKdyGQfNjxgvz4ofo33hQjEihu1BkTaRRM8lPnTB4D1SqxLXUiR8-uYJOTkdPWiYwkapxR_d436mqND-mwNJ1C4hm9VBwGADKJoog/s200/A-Pointsetia1sm.jpg" /><span style="color:#000000;">For many Christmases and birthdays, I have been the lucky and proud recipient of quilts and wall hangings hand crafted by Teri Scaduto. One of her quilts drapes over my piano, another - a Frank Lloyd Wright cityscape hangs over my bed and my favorite - a view of Sciacca, Sicily - hangs in my kitchen. All are works of art. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdNP_DdUCwgtICUwpO7yNO-i2loYnBA8Gq0unB-vr50GfldWgrjA6ouUFZoPOMuPBIpFEnADwcQ3BgeRkjP6dJBEfou9id03BuZt_Dv3IydpvTxQctKTskp2DMnT7Mo4DCACFKh4CkLE/s1600/A-FrankLoydWrightsm.jpg"><span style="color:#000000;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600737348227509426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdNP_DdUCwgtICUwpO7yNO-i2loYnBA8Gq0unB-vr50GfldWgrjA6ouUFZoPOMuPBIpFEnADwcQ3BgeRkjP6dJBEfou9id03BuZt_Dv3IydpvTxQctKTskp2DMnT7Mo4DCACFKh4CkLE/s200/A-FrankLoydWrightsm.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#000000;"><br /><br /></div></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;">Full disclosure) Teri is my step-daughter. I've known her since she was a very smart, very talented and very rebellious 14 year old. I have watched her blossom into a gorgeous woman who is still one of the smartest people I know. Teri is an amazing quilt maker. Her color sense and craftsmanship is superb. She is also a fabulous mom.<br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2-KjQgvXHb5dBPziaq_UyG8iebxQfBKMhySfe7YCDK27G0qfQab1nZpE433uFpzB2qy9D0EQfGeoT6NxabXm3B7mKyAmtxdWgdN-AntnFymOPokBBlZtjpj1dXtlf4VUzbMLlRfKxgFo/s1600/A-blocks-sm.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600707949703346482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2-KjQgvXHb5dBPziaq_UyG8iebxQfBKMhySfe7YCDK27G0qfQab1nZpE433uFpzB2qy9D0EQfGeoT6NxabXm3B7mKyAmtxdWgdN-AntnFymOPokBBlZtjpj1dXtlf4VUzbMLlRfKxgFo/s200/A-blocks-sm.jpg" /></a></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkmUQinAKAJXU2ZhSXZWsnMbZaB6yA4djPdq1P99B46elY-9gVqMjcdzivdseHZVYU1J7QKKufTghXmyN9z-JqO1x6BnhxXJUC_t2ajiHD8AyouIokC7oTCAtL3-SdD38W40r6VUAcuC0/s1600/A-butterflys-sm.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600708546346100274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkmUQinAKAJXU2ZhSXZWsnMbZaB6yA4djPdq1P99B46elY-9gVqMjcdzivdseHZVYU1J7QKKufTghXmyN9z-JqO1x6BnhxXJUC_t2ajiHD8AyouIokC7oTCAtL3-SdD38W40r6VUAcuC0/s200/A-butterflys-sm.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Teri and I share a love of swimming - she swims daily - and a few summers ago, we logged in a lot of pool and beach time together in Sicily. Below is her quilt <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Night Swim</span>.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj-M2jLjel3K_PtWyVcYQqsRdlXe-Wkq0cKwOgnJdYJORKqEKIl9c9C4hkRKZIpYC5zgk1_GVzWYNV9e1UonR_wWVh_P5ag30vXeTZDwVAWBGXRyLYvq0BUgHS11b3XEd1NbHA7LgWFyk/s1600/A-night-swim1sm.jpg"><span style="color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600706747131945202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj-M2jLjel3K_PtWyVcYQqsRdlXe-Wkq0cKwOgnJdYJORKqEKIl9c9C4hkRKZIpYC5zgk1_GVzWYNV9e1UonR_wWVh_P5ag30vXeTZDwVAWBGXRyLYvq0BUgHS11b3XEd1NbHA7LgWFyk/s200/A-night-swim1sm.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Teri bega</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAsjKHKRsN0o1wdyioYYffM6hTFq59W6o_vh8H2BFs_7KxqpJuF5UOygIAk-sT5qdLvWmP_dc4YPqEiEGiFTXdbLRlfs9LtSo9grm9ljnwj-Hp1bIW-mb-5RUlt6xhRNqS7fg1gY5xYGg/s1600/A-TieDyeSM.jpg"><span style="color:#000000;"><img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600680063426535218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAsjKHKRsN0o1wdyioYYffM6hTFq59W6o_vh8H2BFs_7KxqpJuF5UOygIAk-sT5qdLvWmP_dc4YPqEiEGiFTXdbLRlfs9LtSo9grm9ljnwj-Hp1bIW-mb-5RUlt6xhRNqS7fg1gY5xYGg/s200/A-TieDyeSM.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#000000;">n quilting 16 years ago, with a simple calico nine-patch for her new-born son. She quickly discovered that quilting is a fascinating mix of the practical and the creative. She remains intrigued by the interplay of light and shadow that can be achieved in fabrics, as well as the endless possibilities inherent in combining traditional quilt patterns with modern sensibilities. Her expertise on the long-arm machine allows her to add intricate thread work to enhance the finished pieces. Her quilts, which range from the traditional patterns to contemporary designs, have won top prizes in several juried quilt shows.<br /><br /></span><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Teri Scaduto and her son Christopher live in Babylon, New York.<br />Her background in</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirro93drkGN9_FURkrhR_XUppoTYPzbXdZzuTaURwODKRtcfxLm5e8VZlyZUpYIw9sMhBq_0XBf90ZRNbvGaOZ3yUCfG1cqcDo5OmRykd7zmiAGzJr1FL8s6-ICJesvGk2k0RgFX4niy8/s1600/A-pictures1sm.jpg"><span style="color:#000000;"><img style="MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600706140985903458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirro93drkGN9_FURkrhR_XUppoTYPzbXdZzuTaURwODKRtcfxLm5e8VZlyZUpYIw9sMhBq_0XBf90ZRNbvGaOZ3yUCfG1cqcDo5OmRykd7zmiAGzJr1FL8s6-ICJesvGk2k0RgFX4niy8/s200/A-pictures1sm.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#000000;">cludes careers as a caterer, writer, and editor. These days, as a professional long-arm quilter she uses an industrial sewing machine mounted on a 15-foot table to do the decorative stitching that holds together the three layers of her customers' quilts. When not in her quilting studio, creating her own designs or finishing her customers’ quilts, she spends her time in, on, or near the water. </span>Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-50426520849232888332011-04-26T12:10:00.000-07:002011-04-28T05:52:44.897-07:00Our Glass - Fused Glass Art<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieKbUu8UQPbjBXFIUPVvNmEf48VIJB1cWwnoI0tXYbVgzPEDs9h_YiPsnr_tmy0P8T25IhBIsFY0CQUEJHZlertnCCajm0_Ai1wsUM8Hc-OrZ6iWbVzqcZDgAQeMa_xHuEAobNI7laQyc/s1600/+anita%2527s+maze.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieKbUu8UQPbjBXFIUPVvNmEf48VIJB1cWwnoI0tXYbVgzPEDs9h_YiPsnr_tmy0P8T25IhBIsFY0CQUEJHZlertnCCajm0_Ai1wsUM8Hc-OrZ6iWbVzqcZDgAQeMa_xHuEAobNI7laQyc/s200/+anita%2527s+maze.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600306181990112418" border="0" /></a>A year and a half ago my sister Anita proudly showed me the glass art she had crafted using the warm glass process, also known as fused glass. I had just started Stevie's Artisans and she and her partner, Mike Sweek, were happy to join my curated collection of artisans. I was excited to represent their work.<br /><br />Then Anita was diagnosed with liver cancer. But, my sister was a fighter and she was optimistic about her chances. Anita and Mike and her daughter Alyssa kept making beautiful glass. Anita died September 1, 2010, in the loving care of her daughter Alyssa, her three sisters, Mike, her Aunt Bert, her best friend Thalia and Alyssa's boyfriend, Russell.<br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWrLqaBmer7ydmcvdaLxZ2QbArqNAUgSTfWaDZRngTQNCmj4pjXlM3JRswpgyLNZt7pMQPRpdPWjF0XOtLAVHHnedMdk262QrgeR4u2PZ0NUh7T66G-wR6webk-iZn2KxoHSRPDEiF9ko/s1600/plate%255Bstripes%255Dsm.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWrLqaBmer7ydmcvdaLxZ2QbArqNAUgSTfWaDZRngTQNCmj4pjXlM3JRswpgyLNZt7pMQPRpdPWjF0XOtLAVHHnedMdk262QrgeR4u2PZ0NUh7T66G-wR6webk-iZn2KxoHSRPDEiF9ko/s200/plate%255Bstripes%255Dsm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600305885474126338" border="0" /></a>Our Glass and Anita's spirit and creativity continue in the work carried on by Alyssa Trudeau and Mike Sweek. Mike feels Alyssa's work is every bit as inspired as Anita's glass art. I agree. Alyssa's boyfriend Russell Borne - a graphic artist and photographer - has joined the group, contributing lots of creative fire and energy, plus he documents all the work. BTW, Russell also designed and constructed the Stevie's Artisans website - lots of family involvement in these enterprise. and endeavors.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRrXtBR5YeeCmX7ae4mbWu57aLzMv7UowR_KHwG53gq7tcwjIEc7dsGzAxC77Xj9jTCMd2IOUC0KRkxvQcMb5evQusnXlEk5USvTSJHqQJKEsEZkGJGeqk1e2ferdTKydqrux58Br-iXw/s1600/plate%255Bblack%255D.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRrXtBR5YeeCmX7ae4mbWu57aLzMv7UowR_KHwG53gq7tcwjIEc7dsGzAxC77Xj9jTCMd2IOUC0KRkxvQcMb5evQusnXlEk5USvTSJHqQJKEsEZkGJGeqk1e2ferdTKydqrux58Br-iXw/s200/plate%255Bblack%255D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600301842957325490" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqJOujmw3urszdKEbDrwoB7YYQUVEOMiHgMuZqA8g11gRH98OR9kTQHTG61oU4RQcQYi77WLjGrn5mqx05yd7fLa1SLNa9c1P4qi-5N_c494-xIE91eU06nbfOUJlPjzlF4eGowIVQhMU/s1600/costers%255Bstripes%255Dsm.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqJOujmw3urszdKEbDrwoB7YYQUVEOMiHgMuZqA8g11gRH98OR9kTQHTG61oU4RQcQYi77WLjGrn5mqx05yd7fLa1SLNa9c1P4qi-5N_c494-xIE91eU06nbfOUJlPjzlF4eGowIVQhMU/s200/costers%255Bstripes%255Dsm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600616052059919410" border="0" /></a><br />Like Anita, Alyssa, Mike and Russell also share a love of and aim to capture the play of light on glass. In addition to coasters and plates, they especially like crafting sun catchers and mini landscapes created from mixtures of opaque, iridized and transparent colors. I am struck how they manage to impart warmth to a medium that by its nature is brittle and hard and in the fractured patterns of some of their work, they are creating glass art with an edgy vibe. </div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJzx9o28LwOaUbqmXjoUtPDXKstC6UgN-H39Z-a3LK2ULc7QPqhqX7cwROBmtR_7kUIqdySgYPyaDJx0ESP0jafoqhgOEE8215_A6R2fQ0H0Z0oOgttzGdnGUPUjOyBn4hD5KLUJDB8LQ/s1600/candle-holder%255Bbubble2%255Dsm.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJzx9o28LwOaUbqmXjoUtPDXKstC6UgN-H39Z-a3LK2ULc7QPqhqX7cwROBmtR_7kUIqdySgYPyaDJx0ESP0jafoqhgOEE8215_A6R2fQ0H0Z0oOgttzGdnGUPUjOyBn4hD5KLUJDB8LQ/s200/candle-holder%255Bbubble2%255Dsm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600298004975584946" border="0" /></a>Last month I made a site visit to Portland, OR where Alyssa, Mike and Russell live and work. Russell and I worked pretty solidly for two days to finish the Stevie's Artisans website but there was definitely time to visit the Our Glass studio sited in Mike's garage. They showed me prototypes, works-in-progress and all the glass ready to go up for sale on the website. We kicked around lots of ideas over a bottle of Oregon Pinot Noir. It was a very productive week-end.Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-20633337720718438092011-04-25T09:26:00.000-07:002011-04-26T12:09:32.668-07:00My Website<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMtzg9MFna5gPBnJZMEFsmX5hX5MAeV80Xn4Q1wLs8OtMALs7b0fX9e1-RHkZcvmoaSL9eX9oQgUuzjFdrjoG5RvBZHw92fhzimDJB9tstVHitqosYl-c8B8uITBj5rbrWNIUrpWt1d6s/s1600/candle-holder%255Bbubble2%255Dsm.jpg"><br /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOOPJARyxbNVc6evpGMMsJBu4_4U5xn62DDlWpQYi0LEMXrXKkIeAUxInGncmg7iovwjI_c_JNdVCCMtao8Ly0_6IpOFTTmLUq2cq3kMXUh4-6KeSbQfZRhlzvtxfwkOKyyYYm2XXf-1g/s1600/IMG_2404.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 203px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOOPJARyxbNVc6evpGMMsJBu4_4U5xn62DDlWpQYi0LEMXrXKkIeAUxInGncmg7iovwjI_c_JNdVCCMtao8Ly0_6IpOFTTmLUq2cq3kMXUh4-6KeSbQfZRhlzvtxfwkOKyyYYm2XXf-1g/s200/IMG_2404.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599564411837395922" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >Finally, My website is live!</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br />You can go to www.stevie</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >sartisa</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >ns.com to see what is available from the eclectic "gang of four" artisans who </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >are Stevie's Artisans. The Home Pag</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >e introduces the four artisans: Ivette Urbaez, Teri Scaduto, Our Gl</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >ass<br />(Alyssa Trudeau, Mike Sweek & Russell Borne) and </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >N</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >aemeh Shirazi. Besides a short description of what they make, each artist has some </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >images illustrating </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >their work.<br /><br />You can fin</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >d the work by category i.e. silkscreen fashions, quilts, fused glass art and jewelry or you can go to the artisan's page. The artisan's page includes a bio </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >and artist's statement and of course, all the work available for sale. The website was designed and constructed by Russell Borne and I think it is very user friendly. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >BTW, you can still find Stevie's Artisans on etsy.com/shop/steviesartisans</span><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >So, check it out and buy s</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >omet</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >hin</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >g from Stevie's Artisans. Or, please send a comment to</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" > tell us what you </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">think. A sample of what you will find at Stevie's Artisans:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Sculpted Lace Earrings & Pendants by Naemeh Shirazi:</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfknTIZyuvMDg2ygwadd0eWixfNgH4-NwfQYzEZSLXu8aZ8SH0Rm8X0Oaxv23Y62qwkZ_UZ5PamgrF4fs1O1SWus3xiz06Y98u74gDkzM4ZDTRbw8oEXdZQqQntUcfEjhyphenhyphenoNYL9oDjqCM/s1600/pyramid+earrings.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 149px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfknTIZyuvMDg2ygwadd0eWixfNgH4-NwfQYzEZSLXu8aZ8SH0Rm8X0Oaxv23Y62qwkZ_UZ5PamgrF4fs1O1SWus3xiz06Y98u74gDkzM4ZDTRbw8oEXdZQqQntUcfEjhyphenhyphenoNYL9oDjqCM/s200/pyramid+earrings.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599898369763802226" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzdxkKwRgsWuc9MLzcd1CZfNbM-MKbo8uOjsZN-1HEOEQbheSq-2JCuJLjdRTVUW4Za9q08YY7yqJz-r4L85Z8nAHQQZaS38Jq2qP-kNhRiBVM7Uw_gXgPp-5Uy-Y3ZzQu11VKAZRd20c/s1600/Asia+pendant.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzdxkKwRgsWuc9MLzcd1CZfNbM-MKbo8uOjsZN-1HEOEQbheSq-2JCuJLjdRTVUW4Za9q08YY7yqJz-r4L85Z8nAHQQZaS38Jq2qP-kNhRiBVM7Uw_gXgPp-5Uy-Y3ZzQu11VKAZRd20c/s200/Asia+pendant.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599898760951790930" border="0" /></a></span></span></span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br />Fused </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSPh6L92mThmeK4bEBTZK9Fw-fR9lCsWdW4m_XesDF1FxEs8f6g8GvJrgpCC7w7RKv7A6Lzga7bCjl7SwMkyrbONHzgSPN7SRa_drMAMQ3_rbMcR1LBMflrymN2r26AgLQ8OBH-DfYfdY/s1600/candle-shade%255BBYR%255Dsm.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSPh6L92mThmeK4bEBTZK9Fw-fR9lCsWdW4m_XesDF1FxEs8f6g8GvJrgpCC7w7RKv7A6Lzga7bCjl7SwMkyrbONHzgSPN7SRa_drMAMQ3_rbMcR1LBMflrymN2r26AgLQ8OBH-DfYfdY/s200/candle-shade%255BBYR%255Dsm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599895176313455826" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Glass Art by Our Glass: plates, luminaria, candle holders & coasters.</span><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibv2HyvikL2xkcGUS0NueO085kzZVSB6YSoNUs1tJvkH2NcjBSjIJULdsBdMFEUN47laEkhmDup7fUHggHS2Al65O7ct872VkrVsIsE9PmWxVddxMVthTKnCCUMI2MxWgn3iFNG2v7g78/s1600/plate%255Bblack%255D.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibv2HyvikL2xkcGUS0NueO085kzZVSB6YSoNUs1tJvkH2NcjBSjIJULdsBdMFEUN47laEkhmDup7fUHggHS2Al65O7ct872VkrVsIsE9PmWxVddxMVthTKnCCUMI2MxWgn3iFNG2v7g78/s200/plate%255Bblack%255D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599895878211384658" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Original hand printed</span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" > silkscree</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >n</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAicQ-QBUjJdNyFOAocqTRRtT7ZM6FFNg5du_f2D4SaR7nnuEhOtsmxhGr8U83J5IOeooEEIrYrUpaqbLTGsT4s_8z-mD6NWuZYVjtOr43rB6xwGysbaRBq-SQqnmEpoen886KgVzYjCY/s1600/Dress-red-tulips-SM.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAicQ-QBUjJdNyFOAocqTRRtT7ZM6FFNg5du_f2D4SaR7nnuEhOtsmxhGr8U83J5IOeooEEIrYrUpaqbLTGsT4s_8z-mD6NWuZYVjtOr43rB6xwGysbaRBq-SQqnmEpoen886KgVzYjCY/s200/Dress-red-tulips-SM.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599880277448051474" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> fashions<br />by Ivette Urbaez - flirty skirts, dresses, leggings, tunics & kid's clothes.<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYFPcHYC1Db5ZbAf7SOTXdZfvDJxj74aAsi28b1eISasrQXtA7ysMZgL01FuqT10EizPsmxqiAj2Gn3l41FPO-LxjE7VjAjF6G8KIiHc5DTISNA8iTbUS71CyvIIWldPo0UXCb3fPWbC0/s1600/leggings.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYFPcHYC1Db5ZbAf7SOTXdZfvDJxj74aAsi28b1eISasrQXtA7ysMZgL01FuqT10EizPsmxqiAj2Gn3l41FPO-LxjE7VjAjF6G8KIiHc5DTISNA8iTbUS71CyvIIWldPo0UXCb3fPWbC0/s200/leggings.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599880966692547410" border="0" /></a></span></span></span></span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOyPRme_9lcM6pcIpi3lW5xm4-HeDtYVbs-Hx4cLoT9s7uDUMD9TD6X_G4MSx691zN1DfFYg_U_MtIZeye9EOZXcN7u15py6fKsW4byJGhGMZcu48jeCdQ-vP6pPkcNHHC-SoJNTgfuc/s1600/boy+onsieSM.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOyPRme_9lcM6pcIpi3lW5xm4-HeDtYVbs-Hx4cLoT9s7uDUMD9TD6X_G4MSx691zN1DfFYg_U_MtIZeye9EOZXcN7u15py6fKsW4byJGhGMZcu48jeCdQ-vP6pPkcNHHC-SoJNTgfuc/s200/boy+onsieSM.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599970766808368770" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwgt-cJXY7Hyow_WwCHQIhHpn96uBtMvfdbelyUCAm77oGHaYfwj0taONKXeSmtoC2l7dvpQkeat-FJLrOu1IZh-c4v6DE0YoassUGmBgFLiLvKWn5vCRu5hejhEHW67iIbXCVR4XQWI/s1600/girl+onsieSM.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwgt-cJXY7Hyow_WwCHQIhHpn96uBtMvfdbelyUCAm77oGHaYfwj0taONKXeSmtoC2l7dvpQkeat-FJLrOu1IZh-c4v6DE0YoassUGmBgFLiLvKWn5vCRu5hejhEHW67iIbXCVR4XQWI/s200/girl+onsieSM.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599969457982046770" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Hand crafted Quilts by Teri Scaduto:</span><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIwDvdJlrhXzQu1caf1ltsE9gRS-UyfzfOLyFsHiTaj2WqZBfwCXbFMNFWJKKz6soqrkjnABfYuBAtFqcw2YYFTijbpI2RZXiAjY_Tlaa-YWL-VMoU5nKMTsMn_Ee5ecDnFhO8p0JfYSI/s1600/A-TieDyeSM.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIwDvdJlrhXzQu1caf1ltsE9gRS-UyfzfOLyFsHiTaj2WqZBfwCXbFMNFWJKKz6soqrkjnABfYuBAtFqcw2YYFTijbpI2RZXiAjY_Tlaa-YWL-VMoU5nKMTsMn_Ee5ecDnFhO8p0JfYSI/s200/A-TieDyeSM.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599891211778102338" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9nrabVvTCgnr6zjfn9CBVwww5rjAzumFWfiAGwKGP39vBZJh33MN9z_CHAuaRF6xEQqXbjQWQTcUluWoN-vUTSiFVR50E6JHL5cG08SdTB2QnZ_OZbg89Cwvvg7tcWYsErCXtn5ukjE/s1600/A-blocks-sm.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9nrabVvTCgnr6zjfn9CBVwww5rjAzumFWfiAGwKGP39vBZJh33MN9z_CHAuaRF6xEQqXbjQWQTcUluWoN-vUTSiFVR50E6JHL5cG08SdTB2QnZ_OZbg89Cwvvg7tcWYsErCXtn5ukjE/s200/A-blocks-sm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599890497204619234" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqMHIYx-YNAQCjJaRP4Cmn_b6BTB8CsRLfsMQuIDO47GgtOENx4ErzRpdojYN5Faww6ds9Hda2ZCHI6XW560Q2gc2CtnNwstO1wHkSuMLqMIO6tqEm3jgelfzdbysZMoibZFssfLUB-78/s1600/A-pictures1sm.jpg"><br /></a></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />.Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-14742066977095391702011-03-07T05:48:00.000-08:002011-04-25T08:45:36.174-07:00Berlin<div><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 200px; float: left; height: 141px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598587460412445010" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD7SnREbQzdZ_RBFJjdHAHIw12Vm1UG2KjtkdM71Z3z1yrPurYGt1FHyIno4ptprJq9Hi-tCvlIJVSmfh0mDoeZnNe_S8lvB24Lwi7Ef0MP9ETnZKIxS0nZh1Y5Rmm1uFaPvR-Rt25lAg/s200/The+Garden.jpg" border="0" /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:times new roman;">In February I spent a fabulous week in Berlin. My friend Sharon Avery Fahlstrom curated an exhibition of her husband, Oyvind Fahlstrom's work at the Aurel Scheibler Gallery in the Mitte section of the former East Berlin. I arrived two days before the opening so I was able to help out a bit - I helped Aurel's assistant Rebecca </span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:times new roman;">attach wall labels while Sharon made the rounds of the gallery, dabbing touch-ups on the</span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:times new roman;"> walls. One of my favorites - </span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">"The G</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;">arden" is in this show.<br /></span><br /></span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >The show is bea</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >utiful and has generated glowing reviews in the Berlin & the Frankfurt press. The show comes down the end of April exc</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >ept for The Garden. That piece will be up until the third week of June. <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">After the</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0MlYXIlb0MF_qARBeipvynEzXeQPgu1U3rkNIEFRJBzxGnYGAfgUYvVnH4TW0zcF0kAcj6hyphenhyphenJSrAvhBlBu5or2E-7fTTtPIhPeUu1xTY7SQvt_BYC5w4zbvwekNMaMpkLwDDnU8mcZ5M/s1600/esso.jpg"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 200px; float: right; height: 77px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598080431603040146" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0MlYXIlb0MF_qARBeipvynEzXeQPgu1U3rkNIEFRJBzxGnYGAfgUYvVnH4TW0zcF0kAcj6hyphenhyphenJSrAvhBlBu5or2E-7fTTtPIhPeUu1xTY7SQvt_BYC5w4zbvwekNMaMpkLwDDnU8mcZ5M/s200/esso.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"> opening we all celebrated at a lovely dinner hosted by Aurel at a nearby restaurant, Sale e Tabachi. The menu was orechiette con broccoli rabe, grilled bronzino with a fennel/caper sauce and lemon sorbet in vodka for dessert. And of course, copious amounts of wine. (Sharon and I shared several memorable meals at Sale & Tabachi: calves' liver in a Marsala reduction & fried sage leaves, and for a late dinner - vitello tonato for me and a lovely seafood soup for Sharon.) </span><br /><div><div><div><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />It was bitter cold but luckily my hotel was so well located I could walk down the Unter den Li</span></span><a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK95SvI6g3saY5ALAyeh4vEnrUw8XbbGvPMqktliMjTSDsRkMbR9fH3qkQewFBuln7rl5gStc4DDDQoA6P7DodhKs39f6Bya8_Q-exofrgE7KK_7lJ8ypFBaQxW7plgvpqQq1v1wxFaEw/s1600/Eisemann.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 150px; float: right; height: 200px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598591402741546850" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK95SvI6g3saY5ALAyeh4vEnrUw8XbbGvPMqktliMjTSDsRkMbR9fH3qkQewFBuln7rl5gStc4DDDQoA6P7DodhKs39f6Bya8_Q-exofrgE7KK_7lJ8ypFBaQxW7plgvpqQq1v1wxFaEw/s200/Eisemann.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">nden a couple of blocks to the Brandenburg Gate and then to Peter Eisenman's Holocaust Memorial - a sculptural land art piece that reminded me a little of the Cretto di Burri - Alberto Burri's memorial to the 1968 earthquake victims of Gibellina, Sicily. The next da</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">y I went to Daniel Libeskind's Jewish Museum - an </span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">architectural masterpiece. BTW, my son Michael Scad</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">uto graduated from th</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">e Cooper Union School of Architecture. Eisenman was one of his teachers, Libeskind is a Cooper Union alumna and I also saw a house deigned by John Hejduk </span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">- former Dean of CU School of Architecture. Cooper Union is well represented in Berlin.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />When the Be<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ0ndYeLp6UkHCTZbegER2Iumn1_Xm3uVEHMlS7-MA7cM2P13vAm8dS-QzVb9SYo7dZlzGrRH7KfJbo5_QubwVFwupVahr5GCT4IfzXdSwARxdXZr_XSMRMqy1Gk8Y4jufZSsPuCPkugk/s1600/wall+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 150px; float: left; height: 200px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598591873570673874" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ0ndYeLp6UkHCTZbegER2Iumn1_Xm3uVEHMlS7-MA7cM2P13vAm8dS-QzVb9SYo7dZlzGrRH7KfJbo5_QubwVFwupVahr5GCT4IfzXdSwARxdXZr_XSMRMqy1Gk8Y4jufZSsPuCPkugk/s200/wall+2.jpg" border="0" /></a>rlin Wall came down in 1989, a friend brought me a small zip-l</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">ock bag filled with pieces of "wall" rubble. On the sidewalk </span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">outside the hotel I stayed at is a standing segment of the wall, beautifully graffiti decorated. Many of the streets are clearly marked with a cobblestone line, to mark where t<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfSN4yBCmHpRIBYKf5tvXiC7HLjh1Tdi5Obk9W4Ud82inijEVmwXtNoYMDWSRwC2aOQDET0o85a1SXW-Vy9ihw916M9i98seyvrEgQcEgHYSYOWbmMVw-6cENO0sTGWVTcGgIzKu8jD80/s1600/Me.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px; float: right; height: 150px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598592260304219186" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfSN4yBCmHpRIBYKf5tvXiC7HLjh1Tdi5Obk9W4Ud82inijEVmwXtNoYMDWSRwC2aOQDET0o85a1SXW-Vy9ihw916M9i98seyvrEgQcEgHYSYOWbmMVw-6cENO0sTGWVTcGgIzKu8jD80/s200/Me.jpg" border="0" /></a>he wall </span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">separated East from West. Checkpoint Charlie still stands as a Cold War Era monument and you can have your photo taken with an actor portraying a U.S. or Soviet soldier </span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">- just like the "gladiators" posing outside the Colosseum in Rome. There is also the "Wall" museum </span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">- very much a home-made collection of cold war/wall memorabilia, art and personal mementos donated by Berliners. It's all slightly cheesy but absolutely heartfelt.<br /><br />Towards the end of my trip I met with one</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> of t</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">he Stevies Artisans, Naemeh Shirazi who now lives an</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">d creates her sculpted lace jewelry in Berlin. We met at a hip coffee house - St Oberholtz in Rosenthaler Platz. (It is so easy to get around Berlin on public transport: the UBahn subway and the elevated SBahn and buses & trams.) Naemeh and I caught up over dinner - foccacia, pork schnitzel and c</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwha1eo7f4x6xqSD_wmHF5qjT-XosPswd5yL2ZmFRbs3s3AkKd9-2BoUPR4xsPkAgPZ3W66NsX7s0Sf75K-mC8j_5gZM0kT7nnVT0zR6GZG84g4qHy3H_29u7hWoTILs5NR-4RXwzUDwM/s1600/silver+earrings.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwha1eo7f4x6xqSD_wmHF5qjT-XosPswd5yL2ZmFRbs3s3AkKd9-2BoUPR4xsPkAgPZ3W66NsX7s0Sf75K-mC8j_5gZM0kT7nnVT0zR6GZG84g4qHy3H_29u7hWoTILs5NR-4RXwzUDwM/s200/silver+earrings.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599532256853636514" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">reamy broccoli soup for Naemeh - and we exchanged 20 yards of lace and 2 bottles of dye I brought from NYC so she can make lots of beautiful lace earrings, many in new styles she has developed. She gave me a ton of new inventory which I've added to my website, which is now live - http://www.steviesartisans.com</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />On our last day Berlin we hit the art museums. Our whirlwind visit began with the Neues National - a Mies Van der Rohe</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Egu4tJzXdXPAcjYtKc6jQJa0xXkKSPewvs9a2mJAuLxqSt9_5YaiPNk0H3BeK-g21uM5GQ_x3m4143TFbCCPkmd5CfETfSqh5saqY7gcjt4aGU6rOg14z6vNPHqu4qev7iFR_WKZ9cc/s1600/Ishtar+Gate.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 173px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Egu4tJzXdXPAcjYtKc6jQJa0xXkKSPewvs9a2mJAuLxqSt9_5YaiPNk0H3BeK-g21uM5GQ_x3m4143TFbCCPkmd5CfETfSqh5saqY7gcjt4aGU6rOg14z6vNPHqu4qev7iFR_WKZ9cc/s200/Ishtar+Gate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599537240709992754" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> building that houses a superb modern art collection: </span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Kirchner, Dix, Klee, Picasso, etc. Then we headed for Museum island for the Pergamon to see the cobalt blue tiled Ishtar Gate, the coloss</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">al </span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Market Gate of Miletus and the Pergam</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">on Altar which is even more magnificent then the Elgin Marbles at the British Museum. We had a Turkish meal at the Pergamon Museum cafe - a splendid i</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">dea to serve a menu that is th</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">emed to the art collection. Then we went on to the Neues Museu</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXrVlxELashfWES4Ts8WxlZrSFQJuRIRYwLWsiEYY1Lg1eIplQz5wKgsEukgLUMnCFsiHRQOkHCd78g3CbkOjGVgthyphenhyphenxmGUo6AFecOTnhy-mDHolKCsfmnGxORKSmQ9ittGQLDvjOhF0I/s1600/Pergamon+altar"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXrVlxELashfWES4Ts8WxlZrSFQJuRIRYwLWsiEYY1Lg1eIplQz5wKgsEukgLUMnCFsiHRQOkHCd78g3CbkOjGVgthyphenhyphenxmGUo6AFecOTnhy-mDHolKCsfmnGxORKSmQ9ittGQLDvjOhF0I/s200/Pergamon+altar" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599537774996140578" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">m to see the bust of Nefertiti and</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> a lovely Egyptian art and sculpture collection.<br /><br />We ended th</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">e day with a very quick tour of the Hamburger Bahnhoff led by the director, Udo Kittlemann (a friend of Sharon). The Hamburg Bahnhof, a former railway terminus is repurposed as the national contemporary art museum: Joseph Beuy's archive and art, Cy Twombly, Roy Lichtenst</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">ein, Warhol, etc.<br /><br />Built in 1848, the Hamburger Bahnhof is the only surviving terminus in Berlin from the late neoclassical period and is one of the oldest station buildings in all of Germany. I loved the vaulted central gallery with its steel trusses - I know Sharon could imagine Falhlstrom's works installed in that space. Udo led us through an endless series of huge open galleries - spaces designed for really big works. Dusk was edging into night when we left and the building glowed with a Dan Flavin light installation. Magical!<br /><br />I'd like to report that we ended our last day in Berlin with a fabulous meal, but instead we had an acceptable meal at Berlin's so called "best" restaurant. We should have gone back to Sale e Tabachi. I left the next morning - bitter cold but filled with brilliant sunshine - perfect for my bus ride to the airport to return home. I look forward to returning some spring to see the linden trees in full bloom on the Unter den Linden.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></span></span></div></div></div>Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-24660897976260535132011-02-07T15:36:00.000-08:002011-04-26T05:49:30.215-07:00Naemeh Shirazi's Accessories for the Active Woman<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFUsJeI2liB6Hx5gii6NLT7RF7YNv-BABsrEtAWplRYLqbEO755ezxOoRsB-SiMJGVzCfQT6KXy3kDQ3ELzGRAVmD2FgnkU2__940Ah2qrEVZQOQvIPJgOzWywFRI1qHi8bsSznkH74nU/s1600/michelle+wie1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 165px; float: right; height: 200px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571141997056822834" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFUsJeI2liB6Hx5gii6NLT7RF7YNv-BABsrEtAWplRYLqbEO755ezxOoRsB-SiMJGVzCfQT6KXy3kDQ3ELzGRAVmD2FgnkU2__940Ah2qrEVZQOQvIPJgOzWywFRI1qHi8bsSznkH74nU/s200/michelle+wie1.jpg" border="0" /></a><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 152px; float: right; height: 200px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571142000255817602" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzNkpwQcPDpAWNWTE5oBaPsaTslWBc99trKzDKn7hDAro5ZF2HlFYZsEA4SovMUQDSGG_lAgILYk93EV848lkGLilEGvdr3uKeFnJWtpF913ljFnGg9riQPJkV0qTkmfvvD_bCYcAt2qU/s200/florencegriffithjoyner1.jpg" border="0" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzlVt6AoNSwj0LkHto195UGZJxaaMz3eHZwv_l-FiFPABOw7HqkCI-I-P4Z8CYLp_Bpg6weAD80KG8CcQjdMT0eWSixuI2q5lzW5NShKpRC7U92etX19_wcKmTyN4NPFkvfyrmmdZCkro/s1600/Serena1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 184px; float: right; height: 201px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571141989782219922" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzlVt6AoNSwj0LkHto195UGZJxaaMz3eHZwv_l-FiFPABOw7HqkCI-I-P4Z8CYLp_Bpg6weAD80KG8CcQjdMT0eWSixuI2q5lzW5NShKpRC7U92etX19_wcKmTyN4NPFkvfyrmmdZCkro/s200/Serena1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Serena and Venus Williams are among the most fash</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">ionable and glamorous athletes on the tennis courts. Michelle Wie rocks on the golf links and ba</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">ck in the 80's Flo Jo (Florence Griffith Joyner) sported one-legged leotards, fabulous manicures and lots of gold jewelry while she was setting U.S. and world records in track and field competitions. </span></div><br /><div><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Women athletes want a "look" that matches their strength and boldness. And, more and more, they are going f</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">or "glam" accessories that compliment their </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">accomplishments - j</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">ewelry that says a bit more than the understated look of diam</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">ond stud earrings.</span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii_enwTr0G7dfwOvndJd1KosoCN0ASjn40L5xbrmwiMO4Ntt5oTqKrkYJ9ZZH6yuBkVtkECuLkYV_L5UWFd32pb4HKPWrIyvdZS_Dvv_lMJzBew71q62sKS7oR-3-R7CVwqLLjEDAgcaU/s1600/slv+fleur-small.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 143px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii_enwTr0G7dfwOvndJd1KosoCN0ASjn40L5xbrmwiMO4Ntt5oTqKrkYJ9ZZH6yuBkVtkECuLkYV_L5UWFd32pb4HKPWrIyvdZS_Dvv_lMJzBew71q62sKS7oR-3-R7CVwqLLjEDAgcaU/s200/slv+fleur-small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599610145860358802" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAYeERl_g2OD9Fm729LeDqylk9tyC_S44SZAP7DxHJHH5hpm1wurcACXHvA-oI0a2WpL8JUE19ubR-fJiUN8gUt4vygF_YyZMSn1f_IL2nscJaC3a0T92WrdMMfJ54UzakGabXZQrhNs/s1600/+vine+pendant.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAYeERl_g2OD9Fm729LeDqylk9tyC_S44SZAP7DxHJHH5hpm1wurcACXHvA-oI0a2WpL8JUE19ubR-fJiUN8gUt4vygF_YyZMSn1f_IL2nscJaC3a0T92WrdMMfJ54UzakGabXZQrhNs/s200/+vine+pendant.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599611694532480338" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW0r23uZ7R7yUQGllTRV0QXJ-IhWfsUTuzmBhzHlrsKooygm-pHhl-IB2wVm_11hnbGbou3I1VoxYbWAtYHIC29WCuFt2kMm5OvVGQ1fnggLD4ZOn9pOdshzGP1-p20qJ137Ycio6PP_c/s1600/silver-vine.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW0r23uZ7R7yUQGllTRV0QXJ-IhWfsUTuzmBhzHlrsKooygm-pHhl-IB2wVm_11hnbGbou3I1VoxYbWAtYHIC29WCuFt2kMm5OvVGQ1fnggLD4ZOn9pOdshzGP1-p20qJ137Ycio6PP_c/s200/silver-vine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599611941649976626" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Naemeh Shirazi's sculpte</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">d lace earrings make a bold stateme</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">nt without getting in the way of the athlete's performance. Available in multiple styles and colors, her earrings are nearly weightless yet make a strong impact. </span></div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Naemeh, a Stevie's Artisan, produces her feather weight designs in striking silhouettes by sculpting yardage of durable, intricately designed lace. Similar to a sculptor worki</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">ng in stone, she deliberately </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">removes excess lace from the selected yardage until the desired form emerges. The sculpted lace fragments are then paired with sterling silver findings to produce a seeming weightless, beautiful accessory that is perfect for an athletic woman. </span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n7qr3cBJvcpvTeqvDHJF5eyG_hdKDZSXXYQk86RJCyvnZfMm1ni_HoSCPaW5k5qOhfViP1wZd_fufAGI1L6wGNQ1ZbQsaLtrmcKSsLWmXG3XRuUj14ZlKkoZZyuofEKKKawOxFYp9Cc/s1600/DSC01344.JPG"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px; float: right; height: 150px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571146318183763634" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n7qr3cBJvcpvTeqvDHJF5eyG_hdKDZSXXYQk86RJCyvnZfMm1ni_HoSCPaW5k5qOhfViP1wZd_fufAGI1L6wGNQ1ZbQsaLtrmcKSsLWmXG3XRuUj14ZlKkoZZyuofEKKKawOxFYp9Cc/s200/DSC01344.JPG" border="0" /></span></a></div></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZQ3WJFxN7Nz1RismNmlch0okaf3br-yH4mzrSi4Bxe-f5wvHktvBoE5Rm3MqC8hWiosz-YFI5BYY7BYJSU4HjWXVszXB9ooDbQgx6k4d9zKaQK8N7Gr52qxW-ntdBMRUY3sZLB19huI/s1600/pyramid+earrings.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZQ3WJFxN7Nz1RismNmlch0okaf3br-yH4mzrSi4Bxe-f5wvHktvBoE5Rm3MqC8hWiosz-YFI5BYY7BYJSU4HjWXVszXB9ooDbQgx6k4d9zKaQK8N7Gr52qxW-ntdBMRUY3sZLB19huI/s200/pyramid+earrings.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599612831666929938" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Naemeh's recycled and repurposed wearable art: earrings and pendants fashioned from lace fragments, are perfect for today's active woman - at work, working out or going out.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Naemeh's accessories available at </span><a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/steviesartisans">www.steviesartisans.com</a> and<br /><a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/steviesartisans">www.etsy.com/shop/steviesartisans</a> </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /></div>Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-67559699569625966912011-01-23T15:32:00.000-08:002011-01-23T19:00:10.785-08:00"In The Heights"<span style="color:#000000;">Ivette <img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565565922484024050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiokaAOKv-MxZHd67pohcH9QNusz7Kt1CrNPza0l7GfpRgsISb-frcO4_b3IPvDqd7iKbuCp2cJfaN8sNArl1vgKjXuGDZOozLolTaALV5r8NPeklF8aJcJWv0FRZB4Y8FweyUMNIchqI/s200/IvetteFashion-1-WEB.jpg" />Urbaez, silk screen fashion designer 0f Stevie's Artisans, was just featured in an article in Manhattan Times, an online newspaper that covers Upper Manhattan (Washington heights and Inwood.) The following excerpt is written by Gloria Pazmino, who did the interview in Ivette's apartment/atelier.</span>
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<br /><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="color:#000066;"><span style="font-size:130%;">In an apartment-turned fashion workshop and studio on Thayer Street, Ivette Urbaez, a local designer, holds “fashion parties” in what appears to be a creative, private space that welcomes the imagination and color of anyone with an idea to share.<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></span></span></span>
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<br /></span><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="color:#000066;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Think Tupperware, Mary Kay, or Pampered Chef soirees, except with clothes, accessories, a little background music and – yes – a little vino.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span>
<br /></span><span style="color:#000000;"><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"></span></span></p><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;">The one-bedroom apartment located in a pre-war walkup building in Inwood has the look of the ultimate artist studio. There are paint cans, brushes, blank and halfway worked on canvasses, drawings, and a camera. It’s all a coordinated mess of artistry. Combine that with the obligatory heat and hot water issues of an old building, and it makes for a nice bohemian, starving artist package.</span></span></p><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#000066;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">It’s like a smaller version of the musical “RENT,” sans drugs and unpaid rent.</span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"> A gargantuan silk screening machine sits in the middle of Urbaez’s living room. At</span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"> the opposite end of the room, two sewing machines sit under one of the apartment’s windows. “I make everything; it starts out with a sketch, then the muslin pattern, to the part where I put it together myself,” says Urbaez.</span></span></span></p><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><o:p><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;">Samples of Urbaez’s work line a clothing rack, and accessories are set up for the viewing and trying-on pleasure of her guests. Urbaez is a painter and photographer and her work adorns the walls of her apartment, almost mirroring the images printed on her designs.</span></o:p></span></p><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><o:p><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;">Urbaez’s designs embrace the urban landscape of New York, by including industrial elements in her graphics and designs. The women’s fashions include screen printed tops, pants, and accessories that have city motifs such as fire escapes, subway escalators, and intertwined messes of cables and wires, creating interesting graphics.</span></p></o:p></span>
<br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;">Born and raised in the Dominican Republic, Urbaez comes from a long lineage of artisans and craftspeople where she picked up her love for design. She learned basic skills from a grandmother who taught her how to sew from an early age. After moving to the United States in 1992, she attended the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT) and studied surface design and accessories.</span></span></p>
<br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="color:#000066;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Urbaez is working towards establishing her brand and eventually selling her designs at small stores throughout the city. “I want to make women look good and make a living at it,”</span> <span style="font-size:130%;">said Ivette.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwsJ8whJQXsqwByDhd04bVdfefTw6zE9zb_wvs8tfLdYCAtj1DFkRhQpda33Nf52urAPt3VCfOESjAEU3LX9X-js9bxkhRLTiPqGV-XE36FSNS4iBzng4ImskEJvZdNYJMWT_bxLqc_44/s1600/IMG_1645.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 134px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565567439119232274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwsJ8whJQXsqwByDhd04bVdfefTw6zE9zb_wvs8tfLdYCAtj1DFkRhQpda33Nf52urAPt3VCfOESjAEU3LX9X-js9bxkhRLTiPqGV-XE36FSNS4iBzng4ImskEJvZdNYJMWT_bxLqc_44/s200/IMG_1645.JPG" /></a></span></span></p><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"><span style="font-size:130%;">In the works: Several of Ivette's spring designs will be sold at Lily, a boutique in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn. A buyer for a shop in the Aspen, Colorado area is also interested in items from Ivette's spring line and Ivette is working on designs for a yoga wear line. </span></span></p><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Ivette's portfolio/Look Book is now posted on YouTube. Check it out.</span></span></p>
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<br />Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-85914973889602825702010-10-22T05:49:00.000-07:002010-11-28T11:41:14.865-08:00Ivette's New Line<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqW1HlxOxUtcOvAz-URwCkbFCbCNbX5SomCau5lk7M7yxxvgJMGKB5A_Rk893g1vgWLT4luH_tfTRcPj-ZFcgZvprRUcOEFONDClsEdiWO_-npgnNIOBwkHhq8IoLnWpwqB_VFFXkIq5o/s1600/IMG_1424.ajpg.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 134px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537690025200652514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqW1HlxOxUtcOvAz-URwCkbFCbCNbX5SomCau5lk7M7yxxvgJMGKB5A_Rk893g1vgWLT4luH_tfTRcPj-ZFcgZvprRUcOEFONDClsEdiWO_-npgnNIOBwkHhq8IoLnWpwqB_VFFXkIq5o/s200/IMG_1424.ajpg.jpg" /></a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Stevie's Artisans Urban Folk Art</span> is pleased to present Ivette Urbaez's Spring/Summer line. Her "Look Book" (portfolio) attached to this posting, is a beautiful presentation of both her silk screen art and her fashion designs. It's a glimpse into a collection that captures floral and geometric graphics, created for any type of surface design. It includes photos of hand printed garments - apparel creations made into functional, wearable art that put a twist and spin on the limitations of more traditional commercial prints. </span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"><br /></span><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyA4z6FIM7jaUfNgBhjPUkIT1KOTvrm-NUBXAzYTsovS7REeiZxYLz0x5H-suM0f0pR7AtpqMR5hYCnsoSbkw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"><br /><br />Ivette pays homage to</span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"> her home - NYC - by splashing fire escapes over dresses and t-shirts. She further incorporates the hard edge elements of the high-rise city and its underground transit with graphic prints. Another motif Ivette prints on hoodies, dresses and scarves is slithering, intertwined wires and cables. She softens the edginess in other prints with hot-hued roses and tulips, but the roses often have thorns.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiay52mvnjEEw9VkVhn4niAdhwoOocv-_qK1GHsIWHmgd2W1kmwgEc5pyisSpD-kvCpjv6Shz2Ol0YNv-rY6q-IgKXfYskSmF2BChClg_V9FxobdN_DrrCHvLUwG8cUIreZQmwEWz3IATA/s1600/IMG_1645a.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 134px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 206px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537688045872441026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiay52mvnjEEw9VkVhn4niAdhwoOocv-_qK1GHsIWHmgd2W1kmwgEc5pyisSpD-kvCpjv6Shz2Ol0YNv-rY6q-IgKXfYskSmF2BChClg_V9FxobdN_DrrCHvLUwG8cUIreZQmwEWz3IATA/s200/IMG_1645a.jpg" /></a><br />Although most of the designs lean toward warm weather wear, the leggings and the two asymmetrical skirts can be worn year round. Ivette and I think this presentation is super and from the positive feedback we've received, lots of people agree.<br /><br />The skirts, the leggings, the red dress and the multi-colored tulip dress will be offered for purchase on Ivette's page on the soon to be Stevie's Artisans web site. Two of my favorites that will also be available are the "cable" shirt and the "cut-out back " dresses. And I love the cap sleeve t-shirts. Until my site is up, Ivette Urbaez designs are available from the Stevie's Arti</span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">san shop on Etsy.<br /></span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryxCN1gXlM1oryNE-p3hbv_MUTFUgSpXYyJKOhQ5YqR3MqDYBzRYWwPDXQpYod735hXgbClr5MpVPqn8L_0tjjA-3H_TOd_VN2roUnXHsU4OO7ijiTPT3UP1pXRjHBUBsvPHP9bjgI_c/s1600/DSC01338.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537691602005663746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryxCN1gXlM1oryNE-p3hbv_MUTFUgSpXYyJKOhQ5YqR3MqDYBzRYWwPDXQpYod735hXgbClr5MpVPqn8L_0tjjA-3H_TOd_VN2roUnXHsU4OO7ijiTPT3UP1pXRjHBUBsvPHP9bjgI_c/s200/DSC01338.JPG" /></a></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">At the Hester Street Flea Market </span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">this summer. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJBvBHZp72yVHqs_xew2f-xvEZeFjUw1s1E2rbs9d4e3W164t3kOj039GzTSh_1XUWYHzOqsiIut4Oo3Lcx71xowN-eDXBGUk7B7zp1QGxQmEQoK_y2VEWs_AyNEJ1gN-_dp_c2OSV3Pg/s1600/DSC01334.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537771865611730370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJBvBHZp72yVHqs_xew2f-xvEZeFjUw1s1E2rbs9d4e3W164t3kOj039GzTSh_1XUWYHzOqsiIut4Oo3Lcx71xowN-eDXBGUk7B7zp1QGxQmEQoK_y2VEWs_AyNEJ1gN-_dp_c2OSV3Pg/s200/DSC01334.JPG" /></a></span> <span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Ivette </span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">and I noticed </span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">all the babies </span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">being pushed </span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">by moms, </span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">avidly shopping for interesting items for themselves </span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">and their babies. So, we ordered a bunch of baby sized t-shirts and onsies and Ivette silk screened red & yellow tulips for the girls and lime and blue fire escapes for the boys. The t-shirts and onsies are cheerful and each has a unique, one of a kind print. They're available on Etsy at <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/steviesartisans">www.etsy.com/shop/steviesartisans</a> and </span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">eventually they will be available on my web site. </span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">They make great gifts.<br /></span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">So, what is Ivette designing next?<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGAfnYFqIWadw3LslKKXxow6w75jCE0_m5ytJATFh-jWQ3k52SIYmPaIFSoMUf95W86W2HbXNcg_yOS_WFwYI7CAWC0OBZeAMhyphenhyphenKPQ7X490qTeEzMZGftskEjBMEXKHFoVtUEnqaFmT8/s1600/IMG_1384.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 134px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537776226441919810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGAfnYFqIWadw3LslKKXxow6w75jCE0_m5ytJATFh-jWQ3k52SIYmPaIFSoMUf95W86W2HbXNcg_yOS_WFwYI7CAWC0OBZeAMhyphenhyphenKPQ7X490qTeEzMZGftskEjBMEXKHFoVtUEnqaFmT8/s200/IMG_1384.JPG" /></a><br />Ivette's creativity never rests. She is always sketching or figuring out what to do with odd pieces of fabric. A couple of LA stylists who saw some of her work this summer told us her work practically screams out: Yoga wear line. I've started to wear her leggings in my yoga classes. Ivette has designed lingerie sets and the camisoles could easily be adapted for yoga wear. Her cap-sleeved T-Shirts definitely work in a work-out, lending an urban kick to the Zen ambience. She and I are very excited about the possibilities.<br /><br /></span>Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-45238015103532842362010-10-20T07:29:00.000-07:002010-10-22T05:45:58.480-07:00Anita's Memorial Service<p class="MsoNormal">We celebrated my sister Anita’s life on October 10, 2010 at a memorial service at her church in Oregon City, Oregon.<span style="font-size:0pt;"> </span>Over 100 people – family, friends and associates<span style="font-size:0pt;"> </span>gathered to share their memories in eulogies and many humorous anecdotes, that made clear the huge impact Anita had on their lives.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The following is her bio taken from the program and the obituary I wrote: </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>Anita Trudeau, 56, a fused glass artist, died of liver cancer September 1 at her home in Oregon City. She was surrounded by her loving family at her death. Born November 19, 1953 in River Rouge, Michigan, Anita grew up in New York City and Venice, California before making her home in the Portland area in 1989.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmjS6ExJkySmdrPHFXVYKZx58J70q17L37nbbKnWQKeptj73Sgtq70a4kC6oeA1Aki-3xPliOH7_yuKuxLRAoRjirnk9kmSlRtI3s0pRMRk3tl3Tif5jzHdsnkmgkbZ07FCBdVyIaChAs/s1600/lrg+luminaria+lit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 149px; float: right; height: 200px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530307561609838514" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmjS6ExJkySmdrPHFXVYKZx58J70q17L37nbbKnWQKeptj73Sgtq70a4kC6oeA1Aki-3xPliOH7_yuKuxLRAoRjirnk9kmSlRtI3s0pRMRk3tl3Tif5jzHdsnkmgkbZ07FCBdVyIaChAs/s200/lrg+luminaria+lit.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Anita earned her living as a realtor, tax preparer and for the past 13 years was an office administration and marketing assistant for WealthCounsel.<br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>An ardent feminist, she was an active member of NOW for 10 years and served as president of its Clackamas County chapter for one year. She was a Camp Fire Girl leader for five years, emphasizing cultural and intellectual activities for her troop of young girls, which included her daughter Alyssa. Always socially and politically active (she held an elected position in The Peace and Freedom Party in the late 70’s – early 80’s) she strongly believed in community activism; in the immediacy of local involvement. Acting on her belief in the inherent worth of all people, Anita most recently served as an advocate and mentor for inmates at the Coffee Creek Facility for Women. Anita cared deeply for the women she worked with and was especially drawn to help those who had been forgotten or abandoned by their families.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08UyzQa9QiPX4wNqciS-Lyy0G-7WROsGxi4460WgvUZhi39pgUm8t03uWixt8gizgASzO3-bR1xogehH_-QEY_OfapH_9Ja_zmoDwPtrmRt6W292shH1mSFQNRSZ3cQRVhGnihTbKdmY/s1600/untitled.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px; float: right; height: 134px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530307566119488498" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08UyzQa9QiPX4wNqciS-Lyy0G-7WROsGxi4460WgvUZhi39pgUm8t03uWixt8gizgASzO3-bR1xogehH_-QEY_OfapH_9Ja_zmoDwPtrmRt6W292shH1mSFQNRSZ3cQRVhGnihTbKdmY/s200/untitled.bmp" border="0" /></a> A long-time, active member of the Atkinson Memorial Church in Oregon City, Anita said she was drawn to the Universalist Unitarian community because of its professed beliefs in equality and openness and its inclusiveness to all colors, races, creeds and sexual orientation. Her daughter Alyssa confirms, “She taught me tolerance and acceptance of all. She was always there for me, and also for her step-children and the children of friends. Mom always stepped up to the plate.”<br /><br />A love of travel and streak of adventurism featured strongly in Anita’s life. During the late 1970’s she lived in San Miguel de Allende, a Mexican city noted for its artists’ community. In 1979 she went to Puerto Rico for the Pan American games. She coursed through the games on her roller skates, selling T-shirts with her original silk screened designs. In 1976 she took a cross country road trip with her boyfriend and 2 large dogs, a trip she considered one of the most memorable experiences of her life.<br /><br />Anita loved Hawaii – she was always drawn to beaches and the ocean. She said one of her great pleasures was “to soak up the sun and feel the waves rolling over her body.” Besides loving the beaches of California, Hawaii and Puerto Rico, Anita longed to explore the Greek Islands, Italy and Cuba with her daughter, Alyssa.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRehB18nIPURFjRbyG3EAZOy_imeVyrTUoGf04_BNuk6d97TfjeNgpo_Op3zXb9qLekeai_9NZRLLdHTKaz6YfD0BLesbHbm_WJfjlLmql_NnAb4aGwocdUdolvqJxpa4I8b30is7E8Ug/s1600/sun+001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 150px; float: right; height: 200px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530307573188434386" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRehB18nIPURFjRbyG3EAZOy_imeVyrTUoGf04_BNuk6d97TfjeNgpo_Op3zXb9qLekeai_9NZRLLdHTKaz6YfD0BLesbHbm_WJfjlLmql_NnAb4aGwocdUdolvqJxpa4I8b30is7E8Ug/s200/sun+001.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></o:p><o:p>A polymath, Anita explored and developed expertise in various fields from gardening (which included raising chickens and bee-keeping, long before they were popular activities) to the physical sciences, especially astronomy and physics. She was an accomplished artist who worked in the fabric arts: silk screen, knitting and quilting. She developed as a ceramicist working at the Sofia Center in Portland but felt her best work was her latest work in fused glass art.</o:p><br /><br /><o:p>Our Aunt Bert, who was at Anita's side during her passing, regretted she could not attend the memorial. This is her remembrance of Anita:</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">The first time I met Anita was at a family wedding. We were meeting for the first time because I am the missing aunt who was finally reunited after 58 years with Anita’s mother, my sister Maria. But that’s another story and this is about Anita.<br /></span></o:p><o:p><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></o:p></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-style: italic;">At our first meeting I thought Anita was a little shy. She held herself tall with dignity and quiet reserve.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">The next time, I met Anita, January 2009, was a sad time. Anita's mother, my sister Maria, was dying and was in the care of family and Hospice. During that difficult time I saw how Anita worked with her sisters in caring for her mother and how she also helped put together the final arrangements for their mothers viewing, rosary and Mass. A “hands on person,” Anita laid out the art work for the program for the services.</span> </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">It was at this time that Anita was beginning to feel discomfort and pain, and a couple of months later she was diagnosed with cancer.<br /></span></o:p><o:p><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></o:p></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-style: italic;">I next saw Anita at her mother's memorial, held on Memorial Day weekend in May 2009. Anita was ill but she worked with her niece Kimberly and her sisters Stevie, Joie and Zoralie to prepare food, flowers and a lovely service for family, friends and many of Maria's clients from her tax service business who attended. Even in her illness, Anita exuded warmth and serenity.</span> </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></o:p><o:p><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></o:p></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-style: italic;">And the last time I saw Anita and Alyssa, was Anita's last week. That was when I truly came to realize the person Anita was. I discovered and came to know her through the many people who visited Anita to say goodbye. Some were wonderful friends and many were associates who had participated with Anita in charitable, services to others. I learned about Anita's love and respect for all humanity, nature, animals and most of all, her family.</span> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-style: italic;">In her last week Anita was surrounded by friends who cherished her, by family she loved and who in turn loved her beyond measure, and by her sweet adored daughter, Alyssa. It is my belief, that Alyssa is truly Anita's greatest legacy.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">When I found my sister and her daughters my family grew and I had more love in my life. But with that love came some heartache too. I am blessed to have known Anita for as long as I did.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">I love you Anita and always will. Until later, your Aunt Bert</span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I'm sorry I didn't say these following words at the memorial but I wanted to add that I'm the person Anita visited on her cross country trip with the boyfriend and the two large dogs. She just showed up at my house in Connecticut and it turned out to be a really great visit.</span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">A few years ago Anita and I discussed Asian art - she loved it and I just didn't get it. When she was dying and we were talking about this and that, I told her about an exhibition of a Japanese artist - a potter and silk screen artist - whose work just knocked me out. It was so beautiful. Anita smiled and sweetly reminded me, "See, I told you."</span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><o:p>Anita knew a lot and she was extremely accomplished as an artist and as a business woman. I am so excited about her fused glass art. I feel her collaborator, Mike must find a way to channel her ideas and presence and continue making beautiful glass.<br /></o:p><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><o:p>A jazz musician, Timothy Marquand said, "When a BIG PERSONALITY, a BIG SOUL dies, it leaves a huge empty space and you have to fill that empty space with beautiful things..."<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqe_MPMeQmKjZk6x8dk_7EVA-Jk_zEeZQ_ttVXM06EcklDZCBWMdWkOrCoK5hpm-yqVlWjuat_TpTGoZVXGecgXbTuF1Xj8CokD4xryYSmUTJjui7Wz7fXDrNoujg7ikX2AnEpGvJDzJE/s1600/DSC01330.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 155px; float: left; height: 200px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530664501974461314" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqe_MPMeQmKjZk6x8dk_7EVA-Jk_zEeZQ_ttVXM06EcklDZCBWMdWkOrCoK5hpm-yqVlWjuat_TpTGoZVXGecgXbTuF1Xj8CokD4xryYSmUTJjui7Wz7fXDrNoujg7ikX2AnEpGvJDzJE/s200/DSC01330.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></o:p></span><o:p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Anita leaves a really huge space so let's keep looking for beauty. </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Lots of beauty.<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></span></o:p></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><o:p><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></span></o:p><!--EndFragment--></p>Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-534255104835022927.post-2529474283985475542010-10-17T15:22:00.000-07:002010-10-21T20:09:41.874-07:00Tribute to Anita<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG1E3-1EqLexCS2H62BISD1OaKHgolpaCqGuCCf_DlRQcq-uTIq0InBIBeN4DoScXksk7Pum0AJJ9a_lc3m8qX4tpKzonGujC9wgbOstEjuNqqCARfIo1n67M3S6qBUDcG39nK3YRexQA/s1600/60148_1272278985999_1800643647_551878_2037146_n.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529876619423831138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG1E3-1EqLexCS2H62BISD1OaKHgolpaCqGuCCf_DlRQcq-uTIq0InBIBeN4DoScXksk7Pum0AJJ9a_lc3m8qX4tpKzonGujC9wgbOstEjuNqqCARfIo1n67M3S6qBUDcG39nK3YRexQA/s200/60148_1272278985999_1800643647_551878_2037146_n.jpg" /></a><br /><div>I lost my sister Anita Trudeau on September 1. Anita had been battling cancer for over a year and at the beginning of August we thought she would have another treatment that we hoped would perhaps, buy her another year. But her liver cancer had progressed too far and she could not tolerate nor be helped by another radiation treatment.<br /><br />At the end of August her daughter Alyssa, my sisters Joie and Zoralie and I, nieces and nephews and many of Anita's friends gathered to say goodbye and ease her through her final passage. Her last days were wonderous and at times filled with hilarity as well as sadness. Her beloved JD cooked scrambled eggs for her - the first eggs his chicken Rocky had laid. Her beloved Mike shared with her a last taste of a wonderful micro-brewery IPA. Joie, Zoralie and I cooked like crazy and filled her home with the aromas of meals she loved, and she nibbled here and there to savor our gifts to her. One gorgeous day she took a last walk through her garden and the next night we carried her out to watch the stars from her back porch. She even attended one last service with her fellow Unitarians. She knew she was going to be the subject of the sermon and she wanted to hear what her minister was going to say. Who could blame her?<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 204px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 137px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529877717632344306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRcbyO4vbXPUD7_DLtHbhHtDSzjtDX-mVVVAAcxBBiDBL8krvMfheG8jl0PGGgNX6p3B6Ce9w8pAS8fcjIWZhx0nji8D4k7jeMZ_qJIsOWgK8TfU59Wn1IDUhoX2pnp13LgXauFfLdhBI/s200/44619_1254869070762_1800643647_520722_7235129_n.jpg" />Anita died in her home surrounded by family and friends she loved and who now miss her terribly. The next day Alyssa, my sister Joie and her daughter, Kimberly and I picnicked on Mt Tabor Park, overlooking Portland. We drank a bottle of Oregon pinot noir, shared wonderful memories and I took notes for the obituary I would write for the local newspaper. It was a sunny, crisp end-of-summer day which Anita would have loved. The only thing she would have loved more would have been a day at the beach.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529877721734320002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2x9mpJyMpuwC3uwLiYZlbipyLtYGdUkKQEvOZ1RjzzSpGFfFSKaDhEaHPdcNHiy7xxdkd6zAcxp-45YLTwc3RUht2QnYZ7yR80OgylzoTvpGO_-_zzlGu9C8Q81xxnPB-IXzIUq2yVDo/s200/44388_1254869430771_1800643647_520726_5926731_n.jpg" /></div>Stephanie Trudeauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16312648314528386727noreply@blogger.com0