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.

 

A sight for sore eyes?

 

It's true.  I did feel very relaxed, sitting beside the empty skating rink at North Van's Shipyards, in the aftermath of a heavy rainfall.  But that was mostly because, after dental work, I could again drink hot coffee. (Oh, she does go on about that, doesn't she?)   As an example of whiteness, though, it might or might not have been beneficial for my eyes – the debate rages among manufacturers of LED lighting fixtures, depending on their products.  Warm white!  Cool white!

 

Whatever.  My eyes certainly needed a little respite after dealing with all those Spectral Creatures in a series that I really should have planned more carefully.

 

 It's a little as if they unleashed something – like books that I happen on in the library:

 

Random happenings that recall the perplexing question: What does violet really look like?

 

Just in time to decide what I'd do next, I had a bright idea.  A very BIG one:

 

How about that for a lightbulb flash?  As it happened, I'd read recently about the official and controversial Pantone Color of the Year – a very special white they call "Cloud Dancer."

 

This came along just as I was reviewing old notes and sketchbooks and came across a long-held inspiration to convene some famous "Girls in White Dresses."   From my sketchbook list, I pulled Monet's "Woman with Parasol (Mme. Monet)" and "On the Strand at Trouville," Degas' "The Invalid," and Thayer's "Angel" – shown here on my laptop screen for your quick reference.

 

My intent was to group and "copy" these models, and there would certainly be challenges:  How to put them together in a satisfying composition?  How to offset each white dress, especially challenging when one might be placed against another?  Well, here's a first step:

 

I kept hoping that, with each small colour addition, the way would become clear.

 

But it was here that I reached a decision point.  It was time to invite a few more of these gals, give them their own panel, and treat the two panels together as a diptych.  Here's a quick capture of the second group of white dresses:  Whistler's "Symphony in White,"Liepke's "The Midnight Salon,"  Holbein's "Anna Meyer," and Toulouse-Lautrec's "The Hangover."

 

An early lay-in:

 

A little more development brought this to the stage where I could decide which panel of the diptych would be which (right or left). 

 

The possibilities were:

 

I chose the first alignment, worked a little more, and then came the deep sigh that means……now what???

 

Okay, for the last act, I decided to let loose with pattern, the design element that always makes me feel better, whether or not it looks better.  Here's the grand finale, with the two panels side by side:

 

It's all been a learning experience, right?  The influential 19^th-20^th century art dealer Ambroise Vollard wrote, "Renoir said once that nothing was so difficult to paint, and at the same time so exciting, as white on white."

 

I'll keep that in mind if I ever try this again.  For now, I'll briefly hold the thought that simple can be better than complex.  The week after the marvelous huge lightbulb gave me too many ideas, a city workman parked his "cherry picker" almost in front of my house.  Attracted by the whir of his lift, I was just in time to see one man, in one truck, with one light fixture, replacing one street lamp.  As simple as that!  What a good idea!