Can't see the circus for the ferns

 

I’d expected this last painting in the “Audition Series” to announce the results of Fern Andra’s  successful candidates as she recruited new members for her circus.  She certainly looks like a self-possessed entrepreneur ready to think big and make the tough choices.

 

Since marketing is one concern of any big boss, one of the questions she would have asked herself at each audition must have been, “How will they look on a poster?”

 

So I began the final “Audition” painting with some sketches based on Fern, looking mildly amused and analytical, and with a plan to place various prototype posters beside her.

 

But seriously, do any of these look like they’d stay within the confines of a frame?

 

I

No.  They’re probably part of that unwieldly group I’d already christened “The Polypody Players.” 

 

Meanwhile, my ongoing fern research had turned up this painting, “The Fern Gatherer”, by a 19^th c. British artist I’d never heard of, Charles Lidderdale. 

 

I was mesmerized by this young girl and came to think of the contents of her basket as representing the succession of oddments that catch my fancy and never let go. (bricks, vintage houses, circuses, now ferns).  My friend M speculated, on reading my previous post about pteridomania (19th century fern madness), that maybe that’s when “Fern” was originally used as a girl’s name.  Well, Careful Reader M, you’re on target once again.  Back to the internet for me, and I found your suggestion confirmed – with artist Lidderdale’s painting illustrating a list of notable “Ferns” and our own Fern Andra at the top of the list!

 

How could I not try to make a kind of copy of this painting?  Early stage:

 

Mid-stage:

 

And the finale:  “The Fern Gatherer after Lidderdale” copyright 2026.

 

Seriously – despite my four tries, the face is the wrong size and my version comes nowhere near Lidderdale’s original. But still – Ferns in all their variations continue to enchant me; even follow me, you might say, as this book recently greeted me from a library display.

 

And next up?  Summer Camp begins.  Will it be as lively and instructive as events unfolding in Nice, France, in this very week ahead?  We will see.

 

 

Under the Big Top

Oops!  Bring on the clowns – that’s the wrong big top, for our purpose today anyway.  It’s the ceiling of the beloved Orpheum Theatre – let’s not even imagine it with high wires and tightrope walkers.

 

I’m drawn to those images, though, as I look out my kitchen window toward the building going up a block to the north.

 

Very big on safety ropes I am, even as I wonder how circus professionals do without.  I imagine those super-skills are top of mind for the remarkable Fern Andra as she continues to audition new players.

 

Okay, then.  Let’s get this show on the road.  Whoo hoo!  According to Idioms Online, “This idiom alludes to a theatrical production or perhaps a roadshow, such as a circus, going on tour. The precise origin is unknown, but it has been used since at least the 1940s.”

 

Getting started:

 

Moving right along.

 

And the finale, “Under the Big Top” (Audition Series, copyright 2026.)

 

This deserved another cup of coffee and a restful interlude with a book I’d just checked out from the VanDusen Library.

OMG!! In that mysterious way that things sometimes unfold, I saw that there was a chapter on ferns.  You’ve heard of Tulipomania?  Well, Richard Mabey describes a similar phenomenon, the 19^th century fern craze called pteridomania. 

 

At that time, there was a roaring enthusiasm for fern motifs in the decorative arts and an even louder roar for collecting and growing ferns – like these ferns in a Wardian case  (think terrarium).   

 

Mabey reminded me, too, of something I knew perfectly well:-- that ferns were living and thriving well before the dinosaur era, and there’s ample fossil evidence to testify to the species’ lifespan.

 

As I followed the internet trail and became more and more infatuated, I asked Google:  "Are ferns addictive?"  The answer:  “No, but they can be highly captivating and easily lead to a plant-collecting hobby.”  Well, not for me.  I’d just as soon let them run wild along my back fence while I stick with the pictures and the stories.

 

In our next edition, Fern Andra will have chosen from the auditioning players.  Do you think this guy will make the cut?

 

Fiddlefaddle -- or something more?

 

We’re still at auditions for Fern Andra’s circus, and there’s still so much to explore beneath those fronds.  Some circus aficionados have the coordination and nerve to imagine themselves as skilled high-flyers.  Others (like me) just love the history and the lore – the energy, the patterns, the drama of skilled bodies in motion, and the centuries of evolution in the arts.  And if my group might be daunted even by the game of “Wordle”, some of us never miss a chance to check a word’s etymology.

 

For instance, we can learn that the word “fern” is associated with words suggesting delicacy like feather, leaf, wing. 

 

In fact,  

"The plant's ability to appear as if from nothing accounts for the ancient belief that fern seeds conferred invisibility (1590s)."

 ..as shown here:

 

Who would imagine that from such modest starts would come a whole tradition, in many parts of the world, of gathering fiddleheads – the still-curled frond – for delectable spring-time eating?

 

Despite appearances, there’s nothing wispy about the dynamo performer, director, producer Fern Andra who this series celebrates as she conducts auditions for some hot new talent for her latest tour.

 

As I delved for historic images of both Fern and circus, I happened on this gorgeous late 19^th century painting “Acrobat with Violin” by Italian artist Antonio Mancini. 

 

Well!  Couldn’t we say that’s a fiddle he’s holding?  And there’s a very long tradition of stringed instruments associated with the circus.  Chagall and his “Green Violin” come readily to mind.

 

Then, as my mind whirred off into fantastic territory, my search produced a photo of an older…dare I say stodgier?...Fern.

 

In this profile pose, she evoked my long-time infatuation with what might be one of the most beautiful “fiddles” ever – the viola da gamba. (short form:  “viol”)

 

Take a quick glean here to see a lovely collection of the fabulous carved heads that distinguish these cello-cousins.

 

My wheels were turning – Fern, fiddles, fiddlesticks, fiddleheads…  I knew it was meant to be when I found a schematic drawing of a viol…

 

..that recalled the engraving of the famous challenging acrobatic maneuver.

 

All right.  We’re under way with some small sketches and the first underlayer.

 

I had thought an undercoat of iridescent copper would lend some pizzazz, but it just dulled the colours added on top.

‘

But I pressed on, resolving to splash brightly as best I could.  Here’s the final outcome:  “Fiddlesticks and Fiddleheads” (copyright 2026, Audition Series).   (Professional  musicians, please don’t scrutinize the placements of strings and fingers).

 

Yes, it’s another example of how I can get carried away.  Someday I think I should do a series based on the concept that’s a keyword for many great artists:  Simplicity.  That would be a real stretch.

 

 

The roar of the greasepaint

 

Admit it: You’re not surprised that I haven’t yet shaken off the dust of the circus ring.  And last week, as I closed up for the night, I suddenly thought: “I know -- the title for my next post!  ‘The Roar of the Greasepaint’” !!   On waking the next morning, I almost immediately thought, “Wait.  That can’t be right – it makes no sense at all.”  But in another world, the expression was exactly right and, what the heck, it’s still the title for this post.

 

And I’m still taken with the greasepaint and the crowds.  You can blame this guy for my continuing impulse to run away with the circus:

 

He’s Duncan Wall whose book enchanted me in the last months of 2025.

 

This led me in January to splurge on a performance by a visiting Hungarian troupe (certified as Hungarian by my Budapest friend Y).

 

Frankly, I was disappointed that there was less of the traditional circus acrobatics, tightrope walking, and derring-do – and more of what these days is called “cirque-danse”.   But my enthusiasm was undaunted.

 

I’d shared the run-up with old school friend JP and – here’s where things get really exciting!  She has been for years an ardent family genealogist and has traced her own family up, down, sideways, across countries and continents.  And she has a family link with the stunning Fern Andra, an early 20^th century performer, actress, manager, producer – oh, so many roles she played.

 

Like so many women in so many fields, she’s been lost in history but – wow!  She was amazing.  For more gorgeous photos and details of her long career, scroll down in this link – a fascinating site in itself, dedicated to film personalities.

 

So how can I go wrong if I hitch my clown wagon to Fern’s star?

 

Right here, on these pages, Fern is going to bail me out with her own circus (yes, of my imagination).  I’m sure that behind that beautiful face and those dark eyes, there’s a hard-driving perfectionist – so first she’ll need to hold auditions. 

 

Here’s a preliminary stage:

Now on to the finale – “She Makes It Look Easy (Audition Series)” copyright 2026.

 

I’m trusting that JP will see this as a kind of tribute to her accomplished relative and also – through the magic of the DNA they share? – a tribute to the younger generation of her family -- bright, creative kids with all kinds of tricks up their sleeves, just like Fern.  

 

Oh, I think the announcer is letting us know that there will be more performances in this series.  See you next time.

 

 

 

First quarter reflections with brief turbulence ahead

 

 

Oh, what a time it's been, these first months of 2026. There were my personal to-do's:-- dentistry, eye surgery.  And then for so long, the word on everyone's lips:  RAIN.  I might have moaned now and then, but overall, I'm undeterred – and grateful for the factors that saw me through.

 

My friends first and foremost – but no one wants their picture taken!  Okay.  How about a couple of daytrips sponsored by dear friend L's North Shore gallery?  On one rainy blustery day, we headed for the National Historic Shipyards at Steveston, BC.  No one slipped from the boardwalk, and most umbrellas survived – and it was, truly, memorable and touching.

 

That same trip, we "caught" a handsome big fish in the cozy warm lobby of the Richmond Art Gallery. 

 

On another recent trip, we saw a small exhibit of funky clothing.  You can imagine how much this octogenarian loved the octopus jacket!

 

And nature prevailed:-- Despite the rain and cold, crocuses arrived on schedule.

 

And then there were the denizens of my studio – small portraits, maybe 8x10", on cardboard or what-have-you.  They've looked on, wondering what I'll do after the Spectral Creatures series.  For years, I've saved pictures from magazines and newspapers that would make possible models and then sometimes used them for quick practice studies.

 

Before those two, I'd done the mini-study for my Red Creature and then used a bunch of paint left from the Indigo explorations for another quick splash. 

 

But let's get back to the fish and the suggestion of brief turbulence.  It's essential we do this now because --- tomorrow is April Fool's Day!  Looking at my photos and thinking about the date, I was suddenly reminded that years back, a wily trickster had told me about …Poisson d'Avril!   It's an old French custom, still observed by some, to play jokes in the name of "April Fish" rather than "April Fool's!"

 

I could almost get away with calling out "Poisson d'Avril!" and pinning to someone's back an enameled fish pin of mine – except I wouldn't want it to be The One That Got Away.

 

Once this is behind us for another year, I'll be one step closer to unveiling the next series.  For now:--  Watch this spot.