Princess Der Ling 德龄 (1885-1948) - The Qing Court and Beyond

Empress Dowager of China Cixi, Princess Der Ling (immediate left in photo) and the Eunuch Tsui Yu-Kuei (partially obscured by an umbrella) - 1903

For some reason, I find fascinating characters who are near an epicenter of power but just out of the direct glare of attention. Princess Der Ling is one such person. These people can observe momentous events in the safety of the shadows.

For two years in the earliest years of the C20, the princess was a favorite lady-in-waiting to the Empress Dowager Cixi in the late Qing Court.

She was western-educated, having studied dance in Paris with Isadora Duncan. And multilingual. A diarist. And a story-teller, publishing 'Memories of a Chinese Princess - Two Years in the Forbidden City' (1911), which can be read online at:

http://womenshistory.about.com/library/etext/bl_tyfb_00.htm

Like the Last Emperor Puyi's 'From Emperor to Citizen', her book gives a first-hand insight into late C19 court life in the Forbidden City. As such, it is a valuable social-domestic history of a time and place.

The Last Emperor of China, Puyi 溥儀 (1906-1967)

Later titling herself as 'Princess' created on-going controversy:


The Der Ling married American Thaddeus C White and migrated to the United States in the late 1920's. And, while a rabid apologist for Cixi, she wrote a number of books and articles and lectured in the service of promoting a real understanding of Chinese history and culture. She died in 1948.

Princess Der Ling in Western Attire

Princess Der Ling - 1939

What appears to be the definitive biography will appear in 2008 - 'Imperial Masquerade: The Legend of Princess Der Ling', Grant Hayter-Menzies, Hong Kong University Press.

So we'll have a more objective and scholarly account of Der Ling's time at court, as well as her life in Republican China, and then later in the United States. Her early memoir suggests an intriguing character and it will be interesting to see how this is borne out in the new book.

My John and Betty Reader

The first book I ever owned, as opposed to the first read to me (by my grandmother - 'Bib and Bud - Their Adventures') was 'John and Betty'. Primary school, maybe Grade 1. It was a slim volume and had a soft cover. And finished up on the top of the wardrobe in my bedroom - it was still there when I was a teenager.

I recall the process of reading was a real mystery to me. The teacher expected her pupils to know how to do it and was scathing if you couldn't. Old school teaching!

But there is a real pleasure just remembering sensory things about the book. Such as the distinctive smell of the pages. And their glossy feel to the touch. The way the book flopped when you picked it up, as a hardback do not.

But when I goggled-imaged it, I was strangely disappointed. Some things about it were not as I remembered. And I had wanted to have an easy nostalgic romp seeing it again.

The illustrations seemed different, though I had only the vaguest idea of what the originals had been like. And the story seemed nothing like what I could not even remember!


So I began to think about the potentially tricky relationship between memory and fact or actuality. Particularly when you have a sense the two are seriously not matching up.

I have the actuality now - the book itself, or JPEG's of it - but I reject this reality as it's not convincing for me. I can't imagine adjusting my memory in some way to align it with these files. It's not just the 'wrong' images and text. What in fact seems more important to me are all the feelings and the general atmosphere generated by my version of the primer. I think the challenge is to create my own real reader. And sleep soundly at night again.

Pick A Number - Cognitive Teaser

I just found an ingenious number puzzle at http://www.milaadesign.com/wizardy.html

Follow the prompts through and then try to figure out how it works. It's very logical and doesn't depend on the computer somehow 'judging' where your eyes are looking!

Bet you'll love it.

Time Travel or Parallel Universes

Yesterday and quite without thinking about it, my family's old home phone number popped into my mind - WL 1833. It's of a form that doesn't exist today. And my parents haven't had the number for over 20 years.

I began to wonder what would happen if I dialed home. Now, at 4.30pm.

And imagined my mother would answer, asking when I'd be in for dinner. Was I still at school? I needed to be back soon to at least start my homework. What would I answer? She'd been an economist and wouldn't readily receive a call from the future! So I'd probably have to pretend I was still 10 years old. Would I be able to carry it off? The challenge excites me, now. My voice has deepened - I'd need to raise it to be convincing. And use a less sophisticated way of speaking. Without sounding too studiedly juvenile.

What was I doing at that age? Still at primary school - Grade 6.

Miss Hartigan was teaching me history. She had introduced me to Marco Polo and his travels to China. James Henry Breasted 'Ancient Times, A History of the Early World'. She had a funny way of clicking her hips side to side when she walked. Equally fascinating with the history.

And Mr Ackford for Maths - the school cutie. Very pretty in exactly that Randy Wayne way. But blokey. With beautiful muscular hands. Covered with a network of pulsating veins. And chalk. Who was being aggressively pursued by the highly-painted over-padded Miss Someone or other - funny what you remember and what you don't!

And Martin Davies for sex after school in the Old Boys Library. He was more developed than me - solid hairy legs, and furrier crotch. Just touching his hard hot thick dick and firm fat buns was overwhelmingly erotic. We'd only stop to go home - at 10, no ejaculation, premature or other wise to reduce our libidos.

...

But what if I get caught out? How would I explain the unexplainable?

And what if I answered - parallel universes? Remember in movies or somewhere there is an immutable truth that if you confront your different selves there'll be some kind of cataclysmic annihilation.

So I haven't dialed yet - I don't wanna be disappointed! But I will. The urge is becoming irresistible!

The Portland Vase - Another Kind of Sensual Beauty

Base of the Portland Vase, Rome 1st Century BC

I used to wander round the British Museum to while away Saturday afternoons. And often ended up in front of the famous Portland Vase.

Such a cameo was created when a partially blown piece of glass was dipped in white glass, and the blowing continued. Resulting in an object with two layers. The outer white layer was then carved away to form images on a darker background underneath.


This cameo glass vase was made in Rome between 30 and 20 BC. And was possibly cut by Dioskourides, due to stylistic and technical similarities with gems known to have been carved by this craftsman round the same time. The meaning of the various scenes depicted is much debated and it is accepted by many that they do not represent a single unified set.

The vase is said to have been discovered around 1582 by Fabrizio Lazzaro, excavating the tomb of the Emperor Alexander Severus. Latterly, it was inherited in 1786 by William Cavendish-Bentinck, third Duke of Portland, who loaned and then sold it to the British Museum after it was smashed to pieces by a drunken vandal, William Lloyd, in 1845.


The refinement of the carving is exquisite, as seen in these details.

The modeling of the forms of the bodies and their overlaying with draperies has none of the awkwardness you would expect from a small piece of sculptured glass. It is 25 centimetres in height.

The base is the result either of a repair or of a conversion from an original amphora form. In antiquity. It shows Paris, son of King Priam, an attribution due to the soft conical cap worn by inhabitants of Phrygia, central Anatolia.

The extraordinary beauty of the vase reminds of the silver Warren Cup (1st century AD Rome), which I posted on, in this blog, 7 March 07. There is a similar calm easy sensuality. Though it is homoerotic and more directly sexual in the Warren Cup.

Bill Travis - Photographer

Bill Travis kindly emailed me the three photographs of this post. Rather than go to his website to investigate his work more fully, I thought it might be interesting to use only what he sent. So a few personal impressions.

What strikes me initially is that the images are in degrees 'indistinct' in that you are not exactly sure of all that is being presented, particularly the first and last. You fill in 'gaps' with your own ideas, as modeled in gestalt of psychology. In the final work and from my concerns and obsessions, I am persuaded something oral and sexual is occurring. In the first, I seem to see another guy/s at the foot of the bed, suggesting interacting sex. But perhaps this composition is constructed of two separate images.

Then there is a sense of the images being across-media - the last photograph for example has a nice parallel sense of being a fresco, something on an old, weathered and cracked wall.

The works seem contextually multi-layered. The guy in bed in the initial photo seems overlaid by a seascape, this second context enhanced by green coloration/wash. Sexuality is again brought into play by the nude body in bed, and particularly the focus on the model's butt.

Water then runs on into the second image, which strikes me as having more conventional iconography - the beautiful and erotic man observed but apparently unaware. The sea is also presented in the 'sun-baking' composition. With this activity being over-layered with another closely-related one - cooling at the sea's edge, here water drips down the man's pecs. There is a curious tension in the overlay here - one is not so relaxed sunning semi-submerged.



Art with gay content is often an exercise in some sort of (usually soft) pornography - the work of Bill Travis is not. I'm not playing morality here - simply stating the situation!

I'm not sure/have no idea what Bill was considering or had in mind when producing the images he sent, or indeed the intellectual framework in which he positions himself (post modern, ... ?), but I take view, from literary criticism, that art work has an independent life once put out by the artist, and can be interpreted in ways that may not have been intended.

Anyway, now I'm off to Bill's website (www.billtravisphoto.com) to see more of his photography!

Politically Correct Humour, Not?

Not sure this joke is at all PC. Not that I'm worrying myself unduly about posting it!


Q: What did one condom say to the other, as they walked into the gay bar?

A: 'Let's get shit-faced!' '


Okay, what do you think?

If you think it's non-PC, did you laugh?

Phillip Togni and the Transitoriness of All Things

While I was away overseas recently, a casual friend developed a brain tumour and died.

I was stunned.

And have been catching myself repeatedly thinking about the transitoriness of all things.

I usually drift (happily) from day to day without the sense of time passing or of moving unavoidably and finitely forward. As probably do we all. I have the feeling of things being cyclic and for ever, emotionally not cognitively of course!

The last time I was powerfully taken by these ideas was while and after watching the Bertolucci film 'The Sheltering Sky' (1990), based on the Paul Bowles 1949 novel. Set in the Moroccan desert, the central protagonists are New Yorkers Port and Kit Moresby trying to resolve their marriage, and their friend Tunner. But in this arid landscape, many of the comfortable and necessary illusions they have constructed for themselves are stripped away.

I was struck by the recurring theme of never knowing, when you are doing a thing, whether it is for the last time. There is the sense that there always will be another time/s - otherwise life's transitoriness can be unbearable.

So I began to wonder when I last saw Phillip. And couldn't. And the thought is uncomfortable. For more than one reason.

Sore Throat Cure

Ever tried this cure? Bet you have!

Did it work?

More to the point, did you get caught!

Being Back

Home Again - Sydney

Been back a few weeks now - mixed feelings.

When you've been traveling six months, it kinda becomes the norm. And (often) you don't want that lifestyle to stop.

I stayed at least a month or two in most places and usually had a flat - one I'd furnished and stocked. Orchids seemed to be a must have!

Home Decorating - Manila Flat

So it wasn't a typical tourist stay - anywhere. I could do laundry. And cook in - for friends too.

Eating In - Manila

Tho I ate out a fair bit - usually local things I couldn't produce at home.


One thing that made it really like home was having the computer - will always bring it now. As long as there was a phone line, I could do dial-up - round $2 for a month in Manila. So email and blogging you!

I found I was much more social away - rarely being out alone. A sort of on-going daily party.

Local Restaurant for the Daily Lunch - Marilao

Of course I did sight-seeing stuff - all over the country as well as day outings from wherever I was. But it was mainly that the fact that I could, rather than I did.

There are things about being back that are great. But maybe another post - this one has been to give me the chance to look over my photos one last time!

Home - Sydney