Art Deco: The Art Of ‘Maxfield Parrish’

On August 26, 2014October 7, 2014 By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Changing the world, stories of mystery and romance

Maxfield Parrish

‘The Garden Of Allah’

While in the process of writing ‘ The Past Tense Of Youth’ I spent hours searching through the European Orientalist painters at the turn of the century and also great artworks of the 1930s.

Amongst others from the latter period I came across the works of Maxfield Parrish whose amazing Florescent colours really made his work stand out. An American artist who was famous for his childrens illustrations as much as for his paintings Parrish lived his whole life in New Hampshire and his home, also his studio, was called ‘The Oaks’.

'Daybreak' Maxfield Parrish — ‘Daybreak’ Maxfield Parrish

A beautiful dreamlike quality permeated his work and gave it a fairytale quality. In his paintings there is also a strong emphasis on photography and it is at times like looking at an over exposed negative particularly in ‘The Garden of Allah’ A very 1930s deco depiction of the east. Soft,romantic and contemplative with the beauty of the gardens creating a fantasy backdrop.

Parrish " Mountain Ecstacy' — Parrish ” Mountain Ecstacy’

There was a certain similarity too between the art of Maxfield Parrish and that of some of my favourite Orientalists principally in the use of light. Especially the works of Lord Leighton . The visual splendour of paintings by both these arists have inspired my writing and have helped to move my story which begins in the 1930s and goes back to the early 19th century.

Frederick Leighton was, of course, known as one of the greatest classical painters of his time and his work was known throughout Europe.

Born in England Leighton came from a very wealthy family and travelled Europe extensively. He fell under the spell of the east, however, spending a great deal of time in North Africa in particular.

It is well known that he questioned his own religion and his wok reflected a humanist approach full of mystic romanticism.He was enamoured with mythology and with nature. In ‘Light Of The Harem’ seen her in the centre Leighton paints a very romanticised picture of life in a harem. The beauty on the right seems off in a daydream while her young servant girl holds up a mirror to her face. All around her there is a soft golden light that gives her an inner glow.

'Solitude' Frederick Leighton — ‘Solitude’ Frederick Leighton

As in the paintings of Maxwell Parrish there is an inner peace and a contemplative quality that evokes the imagery of an ideal world.

Although these two great artists were from different eras and different countries they shared a similarity in the way they viewed their respective worlds.

The beauty of these great works of art fuels the imagination and feeds the senses.

© Renee Dallow ( Hybiscus Bloom ) 26/8/2014

The Past Tense Of Youth: Freedom

On July 27, 2014October 1, 2014 By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Changing the world, Now and then, stories of mystery and romance

Freedom had come at last but at what cost? Now came the painful realisation that the lives we had entwined were about to change forever. I disengaged myself from Gurel’s arms and backed out of the room leaving him alone with his gypsy love. Deeply in love and content in each other’s secrets. I needed time to gather my thoughts and walked down the stairs back into the courtyard of the concubines now so quiet that even the sound of slippers could not be heard on the lonely cobble stones. I traced the winding paths through to the golden way where once carriages arrived and where coins were thrown to those in favour. I sat on a bench and pondered the meaning of all that had happened. A feeling of overwhelming peace and serenity overcame me. All was as it was meant to be.

As I peered through the arch at the passage which lead to the golden way I imagined myself there once again as a child holding out my hands and waiting for Hamid to throw me a coin. Emine’s memory not mine. My memories were of a childhood surrounded by books. Yet somehow these memories had become joined . Emine and Emma were one and the same. Just as this revelation dawned on me I was convinced I could hear voices. The voices of children. Young boys were being led toward the gates by their mothers amidst squeals of delight. They were followed discreetly by their eunuchs and guards. These were the princes who had been locked away for years on end for fear they would rise up against the sultan and steal the empire. I wondered what would become of them and smiled at each one as they passed me. Maybe I too could just simply walk out the gates through the golden corridor and find myself on the streets outside. Strange that I would even think this possible at all as I had spent so much time longing to return to my own time in my own country and I might add with my own husband.

I rose and started toward the passageway when someone grabbed me by the arm. It was Rana with Gurel following close behind her. Her face was suddenly gentle with the humility of a grazing deer. She took my hand and turned it toward her so that she could see my palm. She stroked the lines from left to right. ” I see mountains … blue mountains …… their peeks and plateaus reaching ever higher into the heaven of your choosing. It shall be many years before you find this heaven but you have found something in the mountains that will never leave you. It is love that you have found just like the love that found me. We share this love you and I. We three will always be together even if our lives no longer meet “. She linked her arm in mine , held out her other hand to Gurel and the three of us walked through the golden way and on through the gates together. We wandered the grounds enjoying the warm summer evening breezes and the chance to languish under the shade of the cedars without the restrictions of high walls blocking the sights and smells of the Bosphorous. What a magnificent sight it was with the ships sailing by, the fluttering wings of birds free to fly to the destiny of their choice and of crickets chirping in the long grass. The three of us watched the world go by in carriage song amidst the constant hum of human progress.

We were all three lying there under the tree when Rana rose from her cradle in Gurel’s arms”. I shall never again be the property of another. I am a gypsy. Free forever. Come dance with me”. She pulled Gurel up from his shaded resting spot and goaded him into the dance. she sang with the voice of a nightingale and laughed with the gurgling sound of a meandering stream. She twirled her skirts and writhed her hips with passionate abandon stomping her bare feet upon the dusty earth beneath. She was leading Gurel to the cliffs edge in her dance of the temptress and he was happy to follow as if he were being pulled by invisible strings. I was content to watch and thought nothing of it until I heard the cry. Suddenly I saw her push Gurel back with all the force of a raging bull and leap into the sea. I ran as fast as I could toward her. Gurel was on his knees sobbing as the crowd gathered. I looked over the cliff to see her body floating lifeless in the tide. But as I gazed on and the waves washed her out to sea she appeared to swim out toward the islands with her dark hair wild in the wind. I turned to Gurel and held him close to my heart. The island shapes became mountain peaks in the lavender blue tinge of evenings grasp.

© Renee Dallow ( Hybiscus Bloom ) 27/7/2014

The Past Tense Of Youth : The besieged

On July 26, 2014October 1, 2014 By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Changing the world, Now and then, Romantic interludes, stories of mystery and romance

Gurel had crossed the outer court in the still of the blue dawn and been greeted by an eerie silence. The guardhouse was almost empty apart from those of lower rank and file and he knew that it was time . He had been instrumental in the recruitment of Mountain men from the Caucases who had amassed on the boarder with Salonica and were probably very close to the main square in Sultan Ahmet. They would soon be joined by Janissaries and halbadirs loyal to The Committee Of Union and Progress which had taken over the parlaiment. He knew that there were still those willing to fight for the empire and that elite guards and ground troops were preparing to resist a military take over at all costs. While still on the grounds of the palace he must appear loyal to Hamid. The sultan still had many from the ‘Sipahis’ ( cavalry ) close by ready to mount at his command. Most would remain loyal as they owned lands obtained by title deed. Gurel had had close ties with members of the ‘Sipahis’ as he had sold them his horse on becoming a janissary. Hopefully he could find the cavalier who had bought the white steed from him, steal back his horse and make his way out of the gates without being recognised or called to account.

He moved silently through the grounds to the barracks of the ‘Sipahis’ using trees and topiary for cover. The sun was rising over the Bosphorous. He must find his horse and ride out of the gates at great speed in order to be part of the march. He could hear the sounds of the ‘mehter’ or marching tune in the distance and his desperation grew. The barracks were a hive of activity with the officers preparing their weapons and dusting off their uniforms. The horses including his own had been made ready and stood patiently in their stalls. He waited for the young officer to leave the barracks and enter the stables where he then followed him. Gurel knocked him to the ground with the butt of his musket, stole his uniform along with his pass and mounted his horse. Two others entered and before the men could say a word Gurel rode out of the stables toward the main gates with a valiant ” Not a moment to waste men. They are almost upon us”! Once out of the gates he turned to look back at the cavalry contingent gaining fast upon him. He stopped so as not to arouse suspicion and just as they caught up .. sped on ahead.

They laughed and called him impetuous and continued onwards holding their banners high. Imagine their surprise when their young compatriot galloped with ease into the folds of the advancing infantry. The janissaries resplendent in their dark tailored uniforms were tailed by the troops dressed in all manner of garb for no-one had ever thought to devise a complete outfit for their use. There were foot soldiers on the side of the monarchists too along with members of the cebecci corps who carried and distributed arms amongst it’s own. Gurel rode to the side of Mahmut Sevket,the leader of this organised machine known as the third army. Divisions of the ‘Sipahis’ who had deserted the night before also rode with him. Skirmishes broke out all over the city as the battle between the two sides commenced. Great throngs of volunteers gathered in front of the blue mosque for the last advance.

Through it all the march continued until finally Hamid’s forces were defeated and the ‘Army Of Liberty’ had reached Yildiz. Losses had been few on both sides and it was almost as if the monarchists had given up on the very notion of resistance. The Aghas ( commanders ) from all the different branches of military service seemed to join together as one to oust the reigning ruler of the besieged empire. Mahmut Sevket sat high in his saddle as he led his army through the gates and onto ultimate victory. For Gurel the victory was bitter sweet for Rana was no – where to be be seen amongst the hundreds of women and children now freed and leaving in droves by wagon, on horseback or even on foot.

The sultan had retreated to his opera house trying to save the guilded furniture pieces he had made and loaned to the set of a visiting opera company. Saddened at the thought of all his artistic endevours gone to waste he sat on one of his chairs and began to weep. It was there that they had found him, a crumpled form draped in a heavily embroidered kaftan,all alone except for a loyal child servant standing in front of the curtains awaiting his masters orders. Gurel looked up at the domed ceiling covered in stars and actually felt a pang of sympathy. This lasted only a brief moment,however, for he must find out where Hamid had taken Rana. I don’t know whether he thought of me in the same breath but I do know that he felt a deep sense of something missing. For at that moment he had been just as confused as I had been toward the end of our three way lovers tryst. I saw it on his face as he ,with the help of the guards, unlocked the door to our harem chamber and gathered us both into his arms.

The Past Tense Of Youth: The Young Turks Revolt

On July 24, 2014October 1, 2014 By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Changing the world, stories of mystery and romance

Gurel would take on many disguises over the course of time. Many months passed in the glow of golden moments stolen from the the sultan and his entourage . Sometimes the moments were many and could be stretched into hours but at other times they were fleeting and passed so quickly that he and Rana barely had time to brush their lips together in the kiss of a gentle breeze. Often he would disguise himself as one of the servant girls. At one time he even served the valide sultan without her even being remotely suspicious. If she had seen the moustache it would have been a dead give away but as he wore a long scarf draped from his left shoulder and clipped just beneath his right ear covering his mouth and nose only the eyes were exposed. Because those eyes were so light it was easy to mistake him for a foreigner. Even I was fooled by his disguises sometimes and it was a source of great amusement for all three of us that we were able to get away with such daring escapades. He did not seem to feel my pain and seemed blissfully unaware of the despair which dwelt just beneath my smile. If any of us were found out it would be certain death and if the charade were discovered and Gurel executed I could not go on with my life neither in their world nor in mine.

Then one night as he passed me in the corridor on his way back to the guards he grabbed my hand and looked down into my eyes. He stared at me for a long period of time still with my hand in his and leaned across to whisper in my ear. “Why do you do this for us little one? What is in this for you? You risk your life every day for the honour of a love that is not even yours”. I looked down at the tiled floor shining in the blue light of dawn which peered in at us through the lattice. ” Or is it”? he cooed and lifted my chin to meet his gaze. At that moment I knew he recognised me as being more than just friend and confidante. I wanted him to declare it then and there but there were approaching footsteps and he pulled me back into the shadows behind the arched doorway.

Sultan Hamid and his mother were in deep conversation. They were followed by his first wife and two of his daughters, one of whom , was carrying a baby boy dressed in a green velvet coat with fur trim. I surmised this must be the next sultan in waiting. All seemed pale except for the rosy cheeks of the infant. A sense of fear permeated the air. The valide sultan linked arms with her son “All will be clear in the morning. We are not without the means of defence. We have changed the guards just in time. Really you worry yourself for nothing “. Hamid furrowed his thickened brows. ” Mother the Ottoman parlaiment has just been suspended replaced by a general assembly and you tell me to be calm? Even my own officers are turning against me. This…. self proclaimed … ‘Army Of Liberty’ …. is bent on destroying everything I’ve worked for. I cannot … I will not let this happen’! he bellowed. ” You are scaring your daughters”. You want your grandchild to grow ip to be afraid of every obstacle that crosses his path” ? Sultan Hamid calmed himself and stroked his beard. ” Mother go to bed ….and you too my dears” He kissed them all one by one ” I will be in presently” he soothed as he pinched the baby’s cheek. The sultan continued along the darkened corridor towards Rana’s room as his family moved off through the courtyard toward their residence in the Sale Kiosk.

” Go to her”. Gurel bade me. ” Make some excuse to enter the room”. He placed his hands on my shoulders. ” What of you? How will you go back now”? I asked. ” The guards have been changed”. My heart was pounding in my breast and I hoped against hope that he would forget all and be with me only on that night. He kissed me full on the mouth with a sense of harried urgency. ” I thank you with all my soul” he smiled and then turned toward the outer court. ” Come tomorrow we all will be free”. He motioned a farewell with a graceful salam and was gone. What did he mean by that I wondered? Was he referring to the now very strained relationship between the three of us? Was he alluding to the march on the palace which was gathering momentum and would very soon be upon us or was he preparing me for the return twenty seven years into the future. Back to 1936 , back to Greylin, back to all with which I had been familiar. My concern was not for the demise of the Ottoman Empire, for Rana’s subjugation ,or lack of to the sultan, nor for a gypsy troth sworn in blood before I was even born. My concern was only that his love for me and mine for him be remembered on leaving this strange exotic Paradise where nothing was as it seemed.

I made my way along the corridor with great trepidation to Rana’s suite and knocked softly on the blue door to her chamber. Jamahl, my black eunuch, had followed me from somewhere in the shadows. He appeared out of nowhere right behind me and grabbed my hand. He laughed with that good humoured yet slightly menacing way of his. ” There you are little one. His excellency was wondering what had happened to you. I think he was in the mood for a menage a trois this night”. He knocked on the door and announced that he had indeed found me. ” I am sorry to have to do this for you and I are friends are we not”? I smiled and snatched my hand from his clutch on entering.

Hamid was seated on the edge of the bed in his robe and slippers ” Did you think I would not find you Emine? What were you doing wondering the corridors alone? You have a secret lover perhaps? He glared at me for what seemed like an eternity while I looked past him at Rana praying for any answer she could give. ” I sent her for smelling salts” Rana offered. “Not at this time of the morning … Try again… maybe you were anxious to complete some needlework and sent her to the sewing room to fetch it hmmm” ? Rana looked relieved to have her excuse provided.” Yes that is it. I couldn’t sleep and the sewing calms my nerves”. The sultan laughed long and hard at this. I laughed too.

” You expect me to believe that you , my captivating gypsy butterfly, have the patience for embroidered tapestry? No …. Try again …..Maybe you are sewing a message into a new handkerchief hmmm? A secret message for a secret lover? Or is it perhaps a message for the army corps who are at this very moment conspiring against me”? I sat beside Hamid and put my hand on his. “Could be Rana and I have the same mystery lover hmmm”? Rana stared at me and her eyes were sharp as glass. I winked back at her. ” You know that is not possible”. Hamid replied as he got up from the bed and began pacing the room.” That is why I have decided to move the both of you back to Topkapi so we can make what is not possible absolutely impossible. Also for your own safety. Whatever happens tomorrow I will know that you are out of harms way. Jemahl will escort you and I shall send two of my caliphs along with my daughters and grandchildren shortly . In the meantime I plan to find this impossible mystery lover and have him executed before daylight “.

Jemahl came toward us grabbing me first and then Rana with arms as strong as tree trunks. We kicked and screamed but to no avail and Hamid avoided eye contact. Once outside Jemahl woke the other eunuchs positioned in front of the harem gates and sent them to the quarters of the military guard, no doubt, in search of Gurel. Two of them returned from the barracks with rope which they used to tie our hands behind our backs. Two carriages were brought round from the coach house and we were bundled in accompanied by Jemahl and one of the eunuchs who had bound our hands. Yet again Topkapi would be our home only this time we would find it almost deserted.The palace had not been occupied for the past year except for those who looked after the grounds and the general upkeep. We were locked up in the concubines quarters in rooms not quite so sumptuous as those we had been used to. There were guards patrolling the courtyards and outside the gates waiting for the chance to protect the titled lands of the sultan. It didn’t seem to matter to either of us that our freedom to wonder the grounds had been curtailed as our thoughts were concentrated on the man we both loved. Would he escape the sultan? Would he survive the revolution and would he save us from our confines? Any chance of a return to my own world seemed suddenly beyond reach even in my dreams.

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