The Past Tense Of Youth: The unveiling

On December 15, 2013October 17, 2014 By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Romantic interludes, stories of mystery and romance

So I would be his muse in these times just as I had been in times past. I did not yet know of his other love but I felt her presence. There was a sadness in him that I couldn’t understand. A look in his eyes that only lasted a brief instant and then was gone. He would gaze at me with a tenderness that made me feel like a protected child safe and secure in the strength of his arms. As I had never particularly wanted to grow up this suited me just fine. Perhaps this other being that I felt was purely a case of my imagination running away with me. Perhaps the sadness in his eyes was merely a yearning for his home and family in Turkey. The painting had confirmed my belief that ours would be a lasting love no matter what the world decided to throw our way Mr Foy had in his collection in ‘ The Long Hall’ quite a few paintings by Lord Leighton. Among them being a painting entitled ‘ Light of The Harem’ which was the painting professor Humphries had come so far to aquire. A romantic view of life in the East where beautiful women were kept from the eyes of men within the walls of great palaces. This was a painting of a woman unveiling.

She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. A goddess in the glow of an etherial light that seemed to consume her. She was attended by a young girl holding up a mirror to her face. The young girl looked again remarkably like myself as a child. Then my eyes fell upon a painting that left me breathless. Three figures on a cliff face who appeared to be running from something. Set in ancient times and in a Grecian setting these three belonged only to each other. The blonde girl below with her arms outstretched waits with her young man for the other woman to leap from her cliff top pedestal and embrace them with her glory. Who was this beauty that I had never met,never heard of and never even seen before? Why was it that I felt her life force? With Gurel involved in meetings and structural surveys on the Belgravia wing for most of the day I had been left to my own devices and had created quite a story in my head after having spent so much time in the hotel gallery. I talked incessantly about my theories with Gurel but he would laugh and chide my antics with good humoured mockery. “And does the dark prince rescue them both and ride off into the sunset on his winged white horse Pegasus? Two would be quite a burden don’t you think? I had to agree with him it was pretty fantastical and we had been so happy there in our mountain paradise that it would have been a shame to allow me to escape from the reality of it all away into my head where I could not be reached. My parents were extremely impressed with professor Humphries and spent alot of time with him over the duration of our stay which meant that Gurel and I were for the most part left to ourselves , although , I was always keenly aware , that my parents were keeping a strict eye on my comings and goings. I had the most wonderful dreams of his leading me down into the valley on a great white horse. In this dream I was naked like lady Godiva.

How I longed for him to take full advantage of my innocence but he was way too respectable for that and I had decided to wait patiently for the truly spectacular wedding night that I knew would come very soon. When my father told me that it was time to return to England I was stunned. It was as if my life had only begun right there at The Hydro Majestic and all memory of Cumberland and Greylin castle had seemed to have been erased from my mind. The return voyage home had been a long one and try as they might my parents could not make me smile. It would be months before I would be reunited with Gurel who had promised to come to England the following Christmas when his contract was finished. There were the usual on board activities and stop overs with day trips on arrival to various ports but I was not interested. Oh how I longed for the day when we could be married and finally consumate our love. Was I a wanton wench with the morals of a scullian maid? Maybe so but I was in love and I was obsessed with dreams of the future. So when Gurel arrived on the doorstep that day with his dark hair shining in the afternoon sun I was ready to give all of myself. We had wandered through the gardens of Greylin where I had so often wandered alone and had traced the river hamlets whilst waiting for my parents to arrive home from the village.

We came to rest under my favourite elm tree. The hammock I had attached to a lower branch still swung back and forth in the breeze. I manouvered myself into it but when Gurel tried to join me it turned upside down and sent us rolling down the river bank. Saturated and covered in mud but dileriously happy we were oblivious to everything around us. Aware only of each others shape and form suddenly exposed we found ourselves without restraint. By the time we made it back to the main hall where my parents, anxious to share the happy news of wedding plans waited, we were quite overcome with embarrassment. Still flush with the rapture of abandoned principles we stood before them and broke the news of our engagement. I think my parents had guessed at our antics but had chosen to turn a blind eye. How idyllic it all was back then and how completely ominous all at once. For despite the blissful union of our hearts and minds there was still that feeling that something or someone was not there and should be.

© Renee Dallow ( Hybiscus Bloom ) 15/12/2014

Vintage ‘Holiday Inn’ Christmas

On December 12, 2013December 10, 2014 By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Festive frivolities, old movie magic

Bing Crosby,Rosemary Clooney,Danny Kaye and Vera Ellen

‘Holiday Inn’

What could be better than a beautiful home away from home in the snow.

This film was so popular it was made twice

and both sarred

Bing Crosby.

The first version starredGinger Rogers and Fred Astair

Along with Virginia Dale

and

Margorie Reynolds.

Titled

‘White Christmas’

Unsung stars of the1930s: Gloria Stuart

On November 29, 2013December 14, 2013 By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Now and then, old movie magic

This is the first installment of my tribute to those glamorous film stars who maybe weren’t as well known to the masses. The unsung stars of an era who also added their special qualities to the silver screen and made some pretty memorable movies too. The first of these had a career which lasted from 1932 to 2004 and was nominated for an oscar at the age of 87 for ‘The Titanic’ directed by James Cameron.

Gloria Stuart made a couple of very famous horror movies which are still revered to this day. ‘The Invisible Man’ which has had at least two remakes and ‘ The Old Dark House’. In 1933 she made a very interesting film way ahead of it’s time called ‘It’s Great To Be Alive’ with Raul Roulien another unsung star of the 30s. Stuart plays the girlfriend of a young aviator played by Roulien whom she dumps unceremoniously. He flies solo over the Pacific ocean in an attempt to forget her and crash lands on an uninhabited island. He survives and stays for sometime on the island trying to fix his plane. While he is gone a global disease called ‘masculitis’ wipes out the male populations in the cities leaving women in control of all the institutions. When he finally returns it seems that it’s up to him to continue the human race. Eventually the disease is eradicated, the world returns to normal and the aviator marries his girlfriend. Wish Hollywood would remake that one.

Stuart also had lead roles in ‘Rebecca Of Sunny brook farm’ and ‘Gold Diggers of 35’ . It is not only on film that she shone but in all the arts. A talented bonsai artist,printer,printmaker and painter with sell out exhibitions in New York. Stuart was also an activist and ,along with her husband, tried to join the French resistance in 1936 but was turned down. She returned to form The Hollywood Anti Nazi league and a league to support spanish war orphans with writer Dorothy Parker. Gloria Stuart lived to the ripe old age of 95 and had lived life to the fullest. A great star and a great lady.

The Past Tense Of Youth: Another life in a painting

On November 22, 2013August 11, 2014 By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Now and then, Romantic interludes, stories of mystery and romance

The Hydro Majestic had been a haven for our love. A palace in the wilderness where we could explore the wonders of nature much like he had done with Rana in the blue splendour of the Caucasus. It had been no coincidence that we two thirty years into the future would find ourselves leading parallel lives. Had he known of this other life when fate brought us together on that divine evening whilst dining on the terrace? There he was with his peers. Some very dignified looking gentlemen somewhat older than he. Yet he had seemed happy in their company. They conversed with animated expressions over their after dinner wine and appeared to be going over some plans drawn up on paper. Was he some sort of spy? He was no Englishman of that I was sure and he certainly wasn’t from Australia. I couldn’t help but stare as I found myself drawn into the vacuous social banter of other hotel guests who had joined my parents and me for supper. The mysterious young man at the next table had intrigued me. There was an air of mystery about him yet somehow I knew him. Suddenly he had caught my gaze and he smiled across at me with a smile so dazzling that it almost blinded me. One of the older men looked across at me and came over to our table and introduced himself .

Professor Humphries , it turned out was both an art curator and a professor of architecture and design. He had come with his colleagues via Turkey where they had been investigating the possibilities of consulting on the design of a new museum of art and sculpture for Istanbul. They had brought with them a young Turkish architectural student, whose parents the professor had stayed with while lecturing on modernism at Istanbul university. It turned out that the parents had asked the professor to take their son, who showed great promise and had just won an award for academic excellence, under his tutelage on his next project which was to be in Australia. The professor had been commissioned by Mark Foy, the owner of ‘The Hydro Majestic’, to consult on the rebuilding of the ‘Belgravia’ wing which had burnt down in 1922. The work had stalled and some important finishing touches needed to be added. The young Turk with whom I was enamoured had been chosen from hundreds of others around Europe, due to his award winning designs, to work on the wing supervised by the experts. There was also a painting that the professor wished to buy from Mr Foy which was in the hotels picture gallery known as ‘ The Long Hall’. My parents were fascinated by the professor but I heard only the name of the young Turk ‘Gurel’ repeating over and over in my head. All the while the professor was speaking he and I had remained fixed in each other’s gaze. After what had seemed an eternity he rose from his seat and came over to our table. Professor Humphries introduced him and I was at once transported into a world of exotic splendours.

” I am very pleased to meet you” he said in a cheery voice quite devoid of any accent. ” Just call me Gerald if you find my name difficult. It’s a very English name and probably much easier for you to remember”.

” Alright if you prefer but I assure you my memory for names that may sound a little foreign is completely in tact”

That he spoke English perfectly did not deter me one bit from my creative visualisations. It turned out that he was half English as his father, also an architect, had met and married his mother whilst on a field trip to Istanbul. He had returned to London only briefly with his lovely Turkish bride but soon tired of the normalities of English life and made the decision to live permanently in the country that had given him the great love of his life. Not long after setting up their home in this exotic land their son was born.

After that first evening wondering through the lush green valley and traversing crooked mountain paths not too far from the hotel we realised that for some reason the universe had meant for us to be together. We laughed and whispered of secret longings. I was of his world and he was of mine. There would be no need for explanations and no need to rush things.

The next morning at breakfast had not been stilted by the kind of long awkward silence young lovers feel when they don’t know if things will progress any further but was filled with the joy of true belonging. Afterwards we had visited ‘The Long Hall’ with the professor to view the painting he wished to purchase for his museum in Istanbul. And there it was. A masterpiece by English artist Frederick Leighton. A young man who looked remarkably like Gurel and I like his muse. The resemblance was unmistakable. There we were the two of us very much in love concentrating on what seemed to be an architects drawing. No wonder we had felt as one from the moment our eyes met. We had been so throughout the ages and it would not be long before I would come to understand the significance of our union.

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