Saturday, 30 November 2013
Thursday, 28 November 2013
LIVING BY DESIGN / BOOKS: Jacques Grange
Un décor de Jacques ne s’explique pas, on y est sensible - Pierre Passebon
Grange epitomises the sophistication of a great designer adept at juggling, matching and mismatching different styles. He is, in his very essence, a civilised and articulate man...with a Developed Eye. He has a quintessentially French understanding of opulence, understatement and comfort.
Tuesday, 26 November 2013
ARCHITECTURE: St. George's Church, Bloomsbury
The portico is modelled on the Temple of Jupiter at Baalbek, the tower influenced by the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus, with sculptures of lions and unicorns - the union of England & Scotland - a Hawskmoor (1661-1736) masterpiece.

Below: The Charles Grant Monument - Chairman of the East India Company [family famous for Grant's Whisky] - a friend of William Wilberforce, the abolitionist.
Sunday, 24 November 2013
POETRY: Extract from Alexander Pushkin: TO NATALYA
Cupid's such a flighty chap;
Fevered heart, has it fast --
In a trice I'm in his trap!
Vanished is the joyful day
When, not knowing love's dismay
I could live and blithely sing
At the theatre and fête,
Promenade and masquerade,
As a zephyr light of wing;
When I'd laugh at Cupid's spite,
Scoffing satires I would write
On the charming female kind;
But alas, I laughed in vain,
Felt at last his arrow's pain,
Fell myself out of my mind.
Freedom, mirth, wiped of the slate --- oh,
I must take a break from Cato
And assume a lover's part:
Saw the beauty of Natalya,
Lovely votaress of Thalia;
Now --- here's Cupid in my heart!
Friday, 22 November 2013
Wednesday, 20 November 2013
BOOKS: By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept by Elisabeth Smart
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Available from Amazon in paperback only |
To quote Brigid Brophy in her Foreword to the book 'Reading the book is like saying a tragic, pagan, erotic rosary'.
Sunday, 17 November 2013
LIVING BY DESIGN: Art Deco is still with us
Saturday, 16 November 2013
Wednesday, 13 November 2013
Sunday, 10 November 2013
POETRY: Derek Walcott: The Prodigal
The Syrian writer, historian and broadcaster Rana Kabbani, with oriental 'savoir vivre', comes loaded with presents whenever she comes to lunch or dinner. Amongst the presents last time was The Prodigal by Derek Walcott, a Nobel Prize winning poet I had never read.
Extract:
I had said goodbye to the beautiful plump soldier
whose hair, when she removed her forage cap,
was neatly parted as a blackbird's wings,
to the berry-red lipstick, goodbye to eyes
that held, I hoped, more than formal affection,
outside the hotel. Desire flashed from my face
like a weapon caught in sunlight, then she mounted
her lucky motorcycle and glided off, gone
into the turning traffic out of our lives.
Extract:
I had said goodbye to the beautiful plump soldier
whose hair, when she removed her forage cap,
was neatly parted as a blackbird's wings,
to the berry-red lipstick, goodbye to eyes
that held, I hoped, more than formal affection,
outside the hotel. Desire flashed from my face
like a weapon caught in sunlight, then she mounted
her lucky motorcycle and glided off, gone
into the turning traffic out of our lives.
Saturday, 9 November 2013
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Stratis Thalassinos Among the Agapanthi There are no asphodels, violets, or hyacinths; how then can you talk with the dead? The dead know ...