If there were a crystal ball ---

 

If a crystal ball were available for our end-of-year consultation, it would probably resemble this year's December 26 Full Moon through the trees on my block.  Its contents are barely discernible.

 

A year ago, as I held my breath and thought that perhaps we were really beyond COVID, I hopefully "unveiled the Three" for 2023.

 

But the year now ending turned out to be such a stunner, in so many ways, in so many places, for so many people, that I revisited the "Three" with this updated version:--

 

Teetering on today's Eve of Now and Then, I think I'll just invoke Janus.  A key god of the Roman pantheon, he with his two faces can be said to look towards the past and towards the future.  In fact, as the god of beginnings, endings, birth, death, war, peace, gates, transitions, time, duality, doorways, windows, frames, passages – well, he can play it any way he wants.

 

Here's my copy of an unnamed artist's stunning image of Janus, found on the internet.  (Hmmm….would Artificial Intelligence also be a field for Janus' patronage?)

 

With the skies so dark lately, I made one last 2023 stroll around VanDusen Gardens – feeling the borderline gloom of its grotto in daytime – when its "Festival of Lights" display is disconnected until sunset.

 

 

But then, with memories of times past, I walked through the dark passage and out into springtime of another year.  Janus would have had that all figured out.

 

With hope once again (or at least, acceptance), I can never let the old year go without the words of the poet  Rainer Maria Rilke.  

 

"Come, let us welcome the New Year, 

 full of things that never have been."

A meet-up with The Man on the Street

After the interruption of the Blue-Haired Anime Queen (possibly--), I aimed again to gather some young hopefuls for their Commedia dell'Arte audition.  Alas, my timing was off, and I was elbowed out of the way by a white-garbed figure – my goodness, it was THE king-pin (or so he says) – Pulcinella.

 

As research shows, there must be dozens of variations on his name and many variations on his role and character.  Wikipedia offers this rather sympathetic assessment:

"The quality that best distinguishes Pulcinella is his cunning, with which he manages to solve the disparate problems that arise in front of him—always, however, in favor of the weakest at the expense of the powerful."

He has a bit of the common man about him – he wouldn't have let anyone go without spaghetti (as in the title scene) nor chide them for their manners.  Yet, as he might boast, he's a pretty big deal in the history of Western art and theatre.  The famous Tiepolo father and son artists couldn't resist gathering a whole crowd of Pulcinelli.  Here's Papa Giambattista's take:

 

 

 

 And here's Son Domenico's:--

 

Following the traveling Italian theatre troupes to France, we'll see the white-garbed Pulcinella eventually become a white-garbed Pierrot – invented by the celebrated early 19^th century mime artist Deburau.   

 

The inspiration of Deburau himself lives on, notably in the extraordinary mid-20^th century film, Les Enfants du Paradis, called by some "the best film ever made."

 

And let's not overlook the Commedia's influence in England, where "Polichinelle" was a marketing ploy to draw the crowds for no-cost dentistry – and Punchinella eventually became the male figure in Punch and Judy shows.  If you're intrigued, The Victoria and Albert Museum offers this marvellous long read -- a long skim even, but fascinating.

 

 

We could go touring all around Europe on this saucy guy's shirtsleeves, but it was about this time in my research that a friend suggested we meet up on The Drive,  the historic neighbourhood for  Vancouver's Italian community.

 

 

As I walked from the bus stop to meet her, I noticed the snazzy commemorative crosswalk markings that had gone in since the last time I was there.  Then, we had such a great reunion that it wasn't till later that evening that my plan came together.   Take one Pulcinella:--

 

Add one Commercial Drive crosswalk and backdrop:--

 

And away we go.  Keeping with my plan to model my Commedia figures on some of my neighbours, I tried for the pony-tailed guy across the street.  He's either in I.T. or film production, or both, and surprised us all by becoming the most awesome Cat-Dad to two sibling rescue cats.  How did I slip into the cat topic, when what I needed was a pencilled grid to pin down Pulcinella where I wanted him?

 

 

Here's the scene, early in my process.

 

 

When I wondered about the intense and very round red and green apples, an offstage voice whispered, "Bought from Triple A Market."  Or did it say, "Brought from Triple A"?  Or did tricky Pulcinella just swipe the darned things?

 

Whatever.  This painting breaks the rules, too, all the rules of composition I've heard and tried to follow.  But here it is, "Pulcinella on The Drive (Audition Series)" – copyright 2023.

 

 

And you know what else?  THE most important revelation from all my research so far:-- Pulcinella has a historic association with the city of Naples, Italy.  And what other famous Italian phenomenon originated in Naples?  PIZZA!!  (We thank our boutique café in Upper Manhattan for permission to use this photo.  The chef notes the "product" is a little well-done – but we got to talking.)