[photo cred, clockwise from top to Tommy Ton via Style.com, 2, 3, 4]
White, Black, & Caramel
[photo cred, clockwise from top to Tommy Ton via Style.com, 2, 3, 4]
It's Feeling Hot Hot Hot
HandyMan and I are moving along and purchased the fireplace. So here's the thing about the fireplace... although we loved the old wood burning fireplace, it wasn't going to work for our family. Rocks were literally falling off the front and the hearth was cracked so we would have to replace it. The fireplace, placed on an angle, also took up a huge amount of floorspace so we'd need a smaller unit. Plus, with plans for expanding our family, we knew we didn't want to have a fireplace that was so accessible to wandering little hands.
Where did that leave us? Well, we decided to get one of these:
That's the Skyline fireplace by Marquis. We've decided to place the fireplace flat against the wall (back towards the dining room) to minimize its size. That meant we only had a 48" wall to work with and this particular model fit the size and had a nice tall flame as compared to other similar styles. The idea is to build out a floor-to-ceiling rectangular frame to house the fireplace. We'll add in some details, like tiling right up to the glass edge, and recessing the base and the top to make it appear like it floats and less like a massive thing the room.
I've done a bit of shopping for tile to face the fireplace - and let me tell you, this is no easy task! We want something that blends in a bit and fits with our decor. So no slate, no rustic stone, nothing too dark and heavy. We keep getting drawn to a variation of our kitchen backsplash... some sort of marble mosaic.
Not all of these are fireplace options (I was also shopping for something for the eventual basement bathroom). I am still unsure though. I haven't been able to find many white marble fireplaces so I'm guessing its not typically used there. And now, I read Carol's take on modern fireplaces and I'm worried we've picked both an ugly fireplace and the wrong tile!!! Agh. I don't know how to mix a modern fireplace in a traditional home!
NYC staycation
We also chilled with my mom and Toby, including brunch at a Mexican place in our neighborhood, where Toby thought the tablecloth was delicious. :) We miss you already, Mama!
Using movie stills at a website
Yes, you're infringing. It's not really that fuzzy. Unauthorized reproductions are infringement unless excused by a defense such as fair use. You probably can't afford to fight a fair use battle, so the question you're probably more concerned about is whether movie companies will come after uses like yours. After all, a lot of websites freely use movie stills to discuss films and don't run into problems. Our suggestion: follow Aristotle's advice, "Everything in moderation." If you use two or three stills or only use thumbnails, you're unlikely to get much fanmail from movie company lawyers. But when you begin using 50 full-size images, you're more likely to show up on their radar screen.
Are you promoting the film? Many infringers argue that they're actually promoting the work they've ripped off ... and you can certainly bring that up as part of your fair use defense. But that argument rarely succeeds. First, you can promote the film without infringing copyright. Second, like many bloggers and website owners, it looks like you're really concerned with promoting your own site and earning money from affiliate sales. Finally, copyright owners might not want to be promoted in the manner you do it at your blog. Part of the benefit of owning a copyright is that you can control, to a limited extent, the manner in which the work is promoted.
Speaking of theft ... We recently re-watched this heist film (we love Akim Tamiroff) and when we Googled it, we noted (wistfully) that the movie itself had been heisted.
God of Love
God of Love is an amazing 18-minute comedy about a lounge-singing darts champ who receives a mysterious package of passion-inducing darts. Here's the trailer, below; you can download it (for $2!) on iTunes or watch it on the big screen at this New York theatre. Huge congratulations, Luke!
After Midnight – Opus ½
After Midnight – Opus ½
2006, After Midnight
Celebrations
Cinematic
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Rita Hayworth in Lady from Shanghai, 1947: screenshot from film trailer
Buck's still caught on that log when the house lights come
Up. Shocked by the return of a real life
We were doing very well without, thank you,
We recognize that image was a white lie,
With no more substance than a dream,
No more lasting than the gift by which we breathe,
No more lasting, that is, than itself.
And as in waking from the dream too soon
One forgets its truths, we turn back into lumps,
Resigned to our several lump personae
Washed up amid alien popcorn boxes,
Moving out past velvety chains into
Cool silks of the night, Rita Hayworth lost,
Stars widening their vast indifferent gaze.
In Your Dreams
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Children in front of movie theatre, Alpine, Texas: photo by Russell Lee, May 1939
Shoveling snow away from the movie entrance, Chilicothe, Ohio: photo by Arthur Rothstein, February 1940
Movie theatre, Elkins, West Virginia: photo by John Vachon, June 1939
Children looking at movie poster in front of theatre, Saturday, Steele, Missouri: photo by Russell Lee, August 1938
Saturday afternoon movie crowd, North Platte, Nebraska: photo by John Vachon, October 1938
Flags of the confederacy displayed at movie house on Lincoln's birthday, Winchester, Virginia: photo by Arthur Rothstein, February 1940
Children at a movie house on Saturday, Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania: photo by Jack Delano, January 1941
Movie theatre, Elkins, West Virginia: photo by John Vachon, June 1939
Movie theatre, Moore Haven, Florida: photo by Marion Post Wolcott, January, 1939
Mexican man in front of movie theatre, San Antonio, Texas: photo by Russell Lee, March 1939
Photos from Farm Security Administration/Office of War Information Collection, Library of Congress
Cooper and Bogart: The Hero (Manny Farber)
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Gary Cooper in The Virginian (1929): film poster
Ingrid Bergman and Gary Cooper in For Whom the Bell Tolls (1943): screenshot from film trailer
The hero played by Mr. Bogart, which grew out of the gangster film and Dashiell Hammett detective novels, looks as though he had been knocked around daily and had spent his week-ends drinking himself unconscious in the back rooms of saloons. His favorite grimace is a hateful pulling back of the lips from his clenched teeth, and when his lips are together he seems to be holding back a mouthful of blood. The people he acts badly toward and spends his movie life exposing as fools are mainly underworld characters like gangsters, cabaret owners and dance-hall girls (and the mayor whom he puts into office every year). Everything he does carries conflicting quantities of hatred and love, as though he felt you had just stepped on his face but hadn't meant it. His love life is one in which the girl isn't even a junior partner in the concern, his feeling about life is that it is a dog kennel, and he believes completely in the power of the money which he steals or works everyone else's fingers to the bone to earn. He is the soured half of the American dream, which believes that if you are good, honest and persevering, you will win the kewpie doll.
Humphrey Bogart in The Petrified Forest (1936): cropped screenshot from film trailer
Manny Farber: The Hero (excerpt), from The New Republic, 18 October 1943, in Farber on Film: The Complete Film Writings of Manny Farber, 2009
Frank O'Hara: Written in the Sand at Water Island and Remembered (Little Elegy for James Dean)
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James Byron Dean (8 February 1931-30 September 1955): studio publicity still, c. 1955
actor
made in USA
eager to be everything
stopped short
Do we know what
excellence is? it's
all in this world
not to be executed
Julie Harris and James Dean in East of Eden: studio publicity still, 1955
Frank O'Hara: To the Film Industry in Crisis
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Gloria Swanson in The Great Moment (1921), film poster
Not you, lean quarterlies and swarthy periodicals
with your studious incursions toward the pomposity of ants,
nor you, experimental theatre in which Emotive Fruition
is wedding Poetic Insight perpetually, nor you,
promenading Grand Opera, obvious as an ear (though you
are close to my heart), but you, Motion Picture Industry,
it’s you I love!
And give credit where it’s due: not to my starched nurse, who taught me
how to be bad and not bad rather than good (and has lately availed
herself of this information), not to the Catholic Church
which is at best an oversolemn introduction to cosmic entertainment,
not to the American Legion, which hates everybody, but to you,
glorious Silver Screen, tragic Technicolor, amorous Cinemascope,
stretching Vistavision and startling Stereophonic Sound, with all
your heavenly dimensions and reverberations and iconoclasms! To
Richard Bartelhmess as the "tol'able boy" barefoot and in pants,
Jeanette MacDonald of the flaming hair and lips and long, long neck,
Sue Carroll as she sits for eternity on the damaged fender of a car
and smiles, Ginger Rogers with her pageboy bob like a sausage
on her shuffling shoulders, peach-melba-voiced Fred Astaire of the feet,
Eric von Stroheim, the seducer of mountain climbers' gasping spouses,
the Tarzans, each and every one of you (I cannot bring myself to prefer
Johnny Weissmuller to Lex Barker, I cannot!), Mae West in a furry sled,
her bordello radiance and bland remarks, Rudolph Valentino of the moon,
its crushing passions and moonlike, too, the gentle Norma Shearer,
Miriam Hopkins dropping her champagne glass off Joel McCrea's yacht
and crying into the dappled sea, Clark Gable rescuing Gene Tierney
from Russia and Allan Jones rescuing Kitty Carlisle from Harpo Marx,
Cornel Wilde coughing blood on the piano keys while Merle Oberon berates,
Marilyn Monroe in her little spike heels reeling through Niagara Falls,
Joseph Cotten puzzling and Orson Welles puzzled and Dolores del Rio
eating orchids for lunch and breaking mirrors, Gloria Swanson reclining,
and Jean Harlow reclining and wiggling, and Alice Faye reclining
and wiggling and singing, Myrna Loy being calm and wise, William Powell
in his stunning urbanity, Elizabeth Taylor blossoming, yes, to you
and to all you others, the great, the near-great, the featured, the extras
who pass quickly and return in dreams saying your one or two lines,
my love!
Long may you illumine spaces with your marvelous appearances, delays
and enunciations, and may the money of the world glitteringly cover you
as you rest after a long day under the klieg lights with your faces
in packs for our edification, the way the clouds come often at night
but the heavens operate on the star system. It is a divine precedent
you perpetuate! Roll on, wheels of celluloid, as the great earth rolls on!
Rudolph Valentino in The Sheik (1926), film poster
Rudolph Valentino in Son of the Sheik (1926), film poster
Rudolph Valentino in Son of the Sheik (1926), film poster
Robert Duncan: Salvages: An Evening Piece
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A plate in light upon a table is not a plate of hunger. Coins on the table have their own innocent glimmer. Everything about coins we obliterate in use and urgency. How lovely the silver dull disk glimmer is. Shells without remorse. The rubd antique nickle dated 1939 Liberty portrait relief of Jefferson and, beyond, darkend with use, a grimy patina beautiful 1929 buffalo head nickle.
Bottles. An aluminum tea pot with wicker handle. A remnant length of Italian shawl worn by my grandmother in the 80s, this too, increasing as beauty in dimness. The reds, ochres, blacks and once perhaps almost white natural cotton yellowd. The wearing, the long use, the discoloring. It would be becoming to beauty in words worn out. As a poetry to be discolord.
It is not the age it is the wearing, it is the reversion of the thing from its values. One nickle, then two dimes brighter, a newness, fresh-minted (yet, when I look -- in god we trust -- it is 1944, the god is Mercury with winged helmet; the other, a bust of Deus Roosevelt roman style with sagging chin and stuck-up defiant nondescript head -- this is 1947 -- in god we trust). Then two nickles, the grimy ones. One shiny fifty cent piece above. (Beyond) a fourth nickle showing Monticello E Pluribus Unum.
This mere ninety cents is more, is all piece by piece in art, as they are here, pieces of glimmer as rare as the mysterious chalice with faces and figures on the casting from the greek house and rider.
Notes on use and values.
.....Then the litter. The gleams of silver and nickle seen as coins of light in the litter. A key, another gleam, an ancient evocation, a coin-silver spoon, a chipt cheap cup-shaped cup with a grey glaze without the imperfections of beauty beautiful because it is a cup. A large brown glass bottle of vitamins that look like beans. Papers. A letter from a friend, a program in my own script black and definite (defiant) arranged over the white paper. Matches. An envelope.
In the late hour left after the history of the day, taken with a will before bedtime -- how transformd the world is! The silence almost reaches us in which an original, all that has been left behind, tosst about, of us remains.
Beautiful litter with thy gleam and glimmers, thy wastes and remains! The tide of our purpose has gone back into itself, into its own counsels. And it is the beauty of where we have been living that is the beauty of the hour.
This post dedicated to Aram Saroyan
Salvages: An Evening Piece: Robert Duncan, 1950 (from A Book of Resemblances, 1950-1953)
Spoon: photo by Ari Abitbol, 2008
Street Item: Garbage, Berkeley: photo by Dorothea Lange, 1945 (Dorothea Lange Collection, Oakland Museum of California)
Jeneen Terrana - See The Light
Jeneen Terrana – See The Light
2011, Bitesized Records
Weekend
*****
I'd like to thank all of you who drop by Rambling Renovators. I appreciate all of your comments, your tweets, and your emails. Each and every one makes me smile. xoxo.
Photo via http://prettystuff.tumblr.com
James Boswell: Samuel Johnson's Cat Hodge
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Statue of Samuel Johnson's cat Hodge in the courtyard outside Johnson's house, 17 Gough Square, London: photo by Michael K. Westlake, 2006 (via Dr. Johnson's Rambler)
This reminds me of the ludicrous account which he gave Mr. Langton, of the despicable state of a young Gentleman of good family. 'Sir, when I heard of him last, he was running about town shooting cats.' And then in a sort of kindly reverie, he bethought himself of his own favourite cat, and said, 'But Hodge shan't be shot; no, no, Hodge shall not be shot.'
Hodge keeping watch: photo by Michael K. Westlake, 2006 (via Dr. Johnson's Rambler)