Yesterday seemed to be PBS day in our house. There were a couple of interesting shows that I recorded and watched.
PBS's Live from Lincoln Center had a performance of Camelot, one of my favorite musicals. Gabriel Byrne played King Arthur and a broadway singer named Marin Mazzie played Guenevere. Lancelot was played by baritone Nathan Gunn. I wish I could say this was a good performance, but it was horribly mediocre, the sort of thing I would expect to see here in Dubuque, and certainly far below New York standards. Usually, I like Gabriel Byrne, but he was horribly miscast in this role. The actress playing Guenevere had a lovely voice, but she flubbed her lines a couple of times. I mean literally, sang the wrong words and had to catch herself. WTF? I might expect that in a local small-town production, but certainly not from something in New York! I was very impressed with Nathan Gunn, however. First time I've seen the guy (looks like he tends to focus on opera, which I tend to ignore). Gorgeous man, incredible voice. I guess it helps that a strong baritone tends to make me weak in the knees. *fans self*
Since this performance was not a theatrical run (it was more to showcase the orchestra), there wasn't much effort put into the costumes and they looked cheesy. The dancers weren't bad, but the chorus was pretty weak. That may not have been their fault, however--usually in musicals, the orchestra is located in a pit below the stage, but since this was the New York Philharmonic, they were placed behind the singers and often overpowered them. Christopher Lloyd put in an appearance as King Pellinore and almost stole the show--it's the first time I've actually seen the role of Pellinore being funny, as opposed to tedious.
Honestly, I was horribly disappointed in this performance. I really was looking forward to seeing it and to see it so badly done...le sigh. Well, at least it was on TV and I hadn't spent however much a ticket to Lincoln Center costs. Not that I'd be able to travel to New York anyway. :-P
A bit of history here: I'm not sure when I first became aware of the King Arthur legend. I already knew about it in elementary school, so I'm assuming that it was in some storybook that my parents read to me as a very young child. It was one of my favorite stories. I do remember the first time I heard Camelot, though. I saw the Broadway Cast recording (this is back in the days of vinyl) at the library when I was in 3rd grade and checked it out. This is the one with Richard Burton, Julie Andrews and Robert Goulet. I absolutely fell in love with it, and begged my parents for a copy of the album, which I later got for Xmas. I wore it out, I listened to it so much. (Incidently, I also managed to get my brother hooked on the show because he'd heard me playing the songs so often.)
When I was in junior high school, Richard Burton revived the role and my father managed to get us tickets. They weren't great seats (my dad, as ever, got the cheapest ones), but it was magical all the same. I had caught the movie version (with Richard Harris and Vanessa Redgrave) on tv at some point in the 1970s. Gorgeous (albiet historically inaccurate) costumes, but the production suffered from Redgrave's inability to sing and some of the supporting cast's bad acting. Harris as Arthur was fine, and actually Franco Nero did a pretty good job as Lancelot, considering he couldn't speak English at the time and learned his lines phonetically. Later, I saw a few local productions of the play. If someone is doing a version of Camelot, I'll usually make an effort to go see it.
And every single one of these productions was far superior to the dreck the Lincoln Center put out in their version. That's saying a lot.
The PBS show Independent Lens showed an interesting movie recently: Na Kamalei: The Men of Hula, following the story of one man and his hula school. There's a preview here on youtube if you are curious. Ya'll know me: I can't resist Hawaii. The Islands are Calling!
What I found most interesting about this documentary was the juxtaposition of what is perceived as a "feminine" dance being performed by men. Actually, a version of hula was always danced by men, but because of all the hip-swaying, it was perceived as lewd and was almost stomped out when the white settlers came to the islands in the 19th century. The tradition was kept among the women (I guess women swaying their hips isn't lewd at all, huh?), but very few men got involved until there was a great revival of Hawaiian culture during the 1970's.
Even now, there is a stigma attached to men's hula. It was interesting to see one of the dancers sitting down to dinner with his family, and hearing from his kids how they were teased at school because their father "must be gay" to be dancing hula. The man actually broke out in tears when his oldest son (now grown) confessed that he was very proud of the way his father danced. Several of the other dancers mentioned their initial resistance to learning hula because of the "gay" factor, but then, when they got into it, they got hooked.
When you see these men dance, "feminine" is the last word that comes to mind. They are extremely masculine, and also graceful, and yes, beautiful.
The film follows a particular school as they prepare for an annual dance competition. This school, one of the older ones, has a company of men who are mostly middle-age (although there were a couple of younger men in the bunch). They don't perform competition that often because of the intensity--(IIRC, they only show up to this competition once every ten years). There was some chest-beating going on about them being old--a lot of the groups they would be competing against were comprised of much younger men. But they go on and work to get in the contest anyway.
The film was very touching. The watcher really gets to care about these everyday men who are taking time from their lives to preserve a part of their native tradition. (And yes, as always, there is one "white guy gone native"--in this case, a man from Connecticut who came to Hawaii to visit when he was young, got hooked on the culture, and now teaches Hawaiian Studies at the University there. He blends in, though.)
Well-worth watching, if you get a chance. Check the local listings. There is also a version of the film out on DVD.
I scanned in these examples for my friend Rhiannon from the Taiga Drama Komyo ga Tsuji. These are examples of the "patchwork" kosode. In the drama, the heroine, Chiyo, had to piece together new kosode because hers were ruined in a fire. Saionji-hime also speaks a bit about the subject on her excellent Kosode page, with some extant period examples towards the bottom of the page. I'd like to try to make one of these myself!
My only question is that the styling on these taiga costumes doesn't seem as symmetrical as the period examples I've seen?
Here are the scans. All of these are from NHK Taiga Drama Magazine.
I just colored my hair again, so I knew Mom at least would want to see the picture. Please note, despite all the pictures I seem to be posting of myself on here, I really don't like having my picture taken. However, I only actually see my family once in a blue moon, so sacrifices must be made.
Also: Bonus cat pictures!
Tegan in her favorite spot. We put a blanket down so that she would be a bit more comfortable. Yes, we are slaves to our cats!
Or Satin, as the case may be, although in this case, the culprit was LINEN, and I succumbed without much of a fight.
In a couple of months, a neighboring SCA group here in Iowa is going to have a Vikings vs. Saxons event. Since Bob has a Viking persona anyway, and my alternate persona is Anglo-Saxon, I figured I would make some new garb for us for the event, which is at the end of April. With two tunics apiece, I figure that works out to a tunic every two weeks. Even with all the hand-sewing I do (my personal authenticity thing is to not have any machine-sewn seams showing), I think that's doable.
I did finally finish my new royal-blue cloak, as seen below:
It looks a bit wrinkled, doesn't it? Looks much better in person. It was completely hand-sewn, as shown here on the hem:
It took me about a month to finish, but is very warm and comfy.
As for the Evil That Is The Fabric Store, I only went in to get a few yards of a butterfly brocade for an Japanese outfit I made last fall. I messed up the sleeves and want to re-do them, but didn't quite have enough fabric, and brocade was on sale today. But while there, I saw that linen was also on sale and managed to pick up these beauties:
The ivory is a lovely color for undertunics and isn't that blue wonderful? It'll go with the cloak perfectly, too. Most of my Saxon garb is earth-toned (mainly browns and greens) so I was longing for either blue or red linen for a bit of variety. I didn't need to spend that money, but oh, sin is sometimes delicious, isn't it?
I've gotten bored with my red hair. Next up: dark ash brown. Yep, it's time to be a brunette for awhile, I think. ;-D
You know, I think there's a reason that I've been feeling so tired and out-of-it lately.
Yes, that's right. Evil kitties have been siphoning away my life-energy while I sleep!
Oh, the humanity!
So, yesterday, I finished reading the Fitzwilliam Darcy, Gentleman trilogy by Pamela Aidan. The books in this series are An Assembly Such as This, Duty and Desire and These Three Remain. They were recommended to me and I thought I'd try them out, as I do enjoy the occasional Regency romance.
My impression? Well, mixed. Ms. Aidan is a good writer, although she tends to get a little repetitive and could use a good editor. And why not re-interpret the novel Pride and Prejudice from Mr. Darcy's point of view? But upon reading the books, I felt that the idea fell a bit flat. The Fitzwilliam Darcy, Gentleman trilogy was originally written as fan-fiction and reflects some of the pitfalls of that genre.
Mr. Darcy, for one thing, comes over as somewhat of a "Gary Stu." He's too perfect, and that in fact takes away from some of the appeal he has in the original novel. Let's not mince words here: Mr. Darcy is somewhat of a jerk in Pride and Prejudice. He snubs the heroine and her family (and just about everyone else in their neighborhood), he tries his best to separate his friend Mr. Bingley from the girl that he loves because he doesn't believe she loves him enough, and he's really, really full of himself. Which is half the fun of the character, and it makes it all the more sweeter when this priggish snob finds himself head-over-heels in love with the heroine despite his best efforts to the contrary.
However, in this trilogy, Darcy always has a reason for being the way he is. He isn't a snob, he's just devoted to his family and his duty to his estate. He's religious, he's nice to his sister, he helps out his friends and is kind to his overly-annoying relatives. He also dresses to perfection, fences like a pro, and generally is too perfect. And boring.
I think the mistake the author made here was becoming too enamoured with the character. She always wants to show Darcy in the best light, even when he's making mistakes. This does not make for good literature.
The saving grace of the book was the supporting characters that the author either made up or fleshed out from spear-carriers in the original novel. Fletcher the valet, Lord Brougham, Colonel Fitzwilliam all shine and are a heck of a lot more interesting than the moping Mr. Darcy. The added plot of Irish rebels was a bit overdone, but made me think that the writer might have been better off just writing an original Regency Romance and leaving Pride and Prejudice out of the picture entirely.
The trilogy was an entertaining-enough read, but I admit having to struggle to finish it because I was getting bored. I'd probably not recommend it, unless you are a very big Pride and Prejudice fan. As for myself, I'm passing the books on to my Mom to see if she might have a different opinion.
So I've cut and sewn the third zukin prototype. I think I may have the look I'm going for here.
First, I took a scrap piece of linen 32 inches long and 52 inches wide. (52 was actually the full width of the cloth). Then I cut it in a semi-conical shape as shown below:
This is half the shape--I placed it on the fold of the cloth. The face opening was at 17 inches, which is the length from the top of my forehead to the middle of my collarbone. The rest I curved out until I reached the edge of the cloth. Then I hand-sewed the curved edge (french seam) and hemmed both the top and the bottom edges.
Here is the result. As before, I'm wearing a headband (27 inches long, 2 inches wide) and the zukin is tucked beneath it at my forehead and pinned underneath. The folds took a bit of arranging, but stayed in place quite well.
The advantage this style has over the style the Hokkeji nuns were wearing in this picture:
is that this style (Eshinni-style, I'm calling it, for lack of a proper term, after the portrait of the nun Eshinni) hides the hair better. I did pin up a square of cloth to hang loose like the Hokkeji nuns, but it didn't stay in place very well and my hair kept peeking out.
So, for now anyway, this is the style of zukin that I will be wearing for my SCA persona.
Well, I sewed together prototype #1 and the result is as you see below.
It looks close but not quite there yet. The opening is still too near the face and there aren't enough folds. Still, not bad for a first attempt.
I found that the forehead part stays flatter (and in place) if the top is folded over in and pinned underneath (also the pins don't show that way. However, I'm going to need to put some interfacing in the headband to make it a bit more stiff so it'll keep its shape.
The next thing I thought I'd try is a rectangle shape, to see if that would give me the folds that I wanted. I took a piece of scrap cloth 17 inches wide and 28 inches long and pinned the sides together. Here is the result:
It gets it away from my face, and there are the folds I wanted, but it bunches up and is too narrow. I really think I'm looking for more of a cone shape. Not sure if I'll even bother sewing this one up--I can use the material as part of a belt I'm working on. I have another scrap of the same color that is bigger, so later this week, I'll cut it out in a larger cone shape and see if that works.
I have given some thought to yardage--Japanese looms make cloth about 14 inches wide and they wouldn't have wanted to waste any. However, until I can figure out the shape, I'm not going to focus on that aspect and just use the remnants of cloth I have on hand. Also, I need to take into account that I'm a lot bigger than period Japanese women were. My kosode is wider and uses more cloth, so it stands to reason that the zukin would as well.
I've been working lately on a complete outfit for my SCA Japanese persona. One of the sticking points I'm having is with my hair, which varies between red and blonde (depending on how I'm coloring it at the moment) and is fashioned in a short modern cut. However, medieval Japanese women tended not to cut their hair, and for the most part wore it uncovered and usually tied in some variation of ponytail straight down their backs. The complex hairstyles often associated with Japanese women (as worn today by Geisha) were a product of the Edo period, which is past the time periods covered by the SCA.
So what to do? Some women don't worry about it, and just wear their hair as it. Personally, I think that ruins the effect of the outfit. Some wear long black wigs, which is an acceptable-enough solution, but alas, my complexion is quite ruddy, and black hair looks terrible on me. (I tried to dye my hair black once in college. Ooooh, disaster!) And wearing a long red or blonde-haired wig with Japanese costume would just look like something out of anime. So what is left?
Well, there were a couple of instances where Japanese women wore haircoverings (besides hats, which were only worn outdoors). One was while doing manual labor--they would tie a cloth around their head. Farming women were often shown sporting these headcloths. I'm not sure what they were called in period, but now the cloths are called tenugui. They're made of cotton and come in a variety of patterns. You can see a selection here on this Ebay search. But my persona is kuge-class (noble). She wouldn't be caught dead with one of those towels on her head.
The other option is to take a tonsure and become a nun. Long hair was so important to the sense of Japanese female beauty that the only time a woman would cut it is to while taking religious vows or as a dire punishment. Buddhist nuns shave their heads (as to monks), but there were instances where a woman could cut her hair short in a partial tonsure. This could be as an act of piety, or because she could not leave her home to go to a convent as yet, or as the first step in becoming a "real" nun.
And Buddhist nuns, like Catholic nuns, wear headcoverings. In English, we use the term wimple. In Japanese, they are called zukin. They somewhat resemble each other, but there are some structural differences. This site explains medieval Anglo-Norman wimples very well.
Zukin seem to be shaped slightly differently. They do not cover so much of the neck (it sags down in folds) and I've seen pictures of them in other colors besides white. It could be that the looser fit is due to the warmer climate?
Here are some historical pictures of zukin:
This portrait of the nun Eshinni, wife of Shinran (the founder of Shin Buddhism) is the best example I've seen of zukin. Note how tightly it clings to the top of her head, yet comes down in many folds.
While historical TV dramas are not good sources for historical research, I do want to include some pictures which more clearly show the distinctive shape of the zukin:
I must admit I am not very good at making patterns, so I wasn't quite sure where to start on this venture. I decided to try to make a pattern off of the cone-shaped base of my Anglo-Norman wimple. The pictures from the taiga dramas did not look like the women had rectangular pieces of cloth pinned about their heads. It looked like a cone-shaped piece of cloth that had been pinned in some way to be tight across the forehead.
First, I worked out the pattern. In this case, I simple measured out 3 inches or so from my existing one as shown below:
The other option might be to wear something closer to what this modern nun is wearing:
I'll continue my experimentation. Any feedback on the subject would be greatly appreciated.
So I have these two books out via inter-library loan (ILL), mainly because they're so pricey I can't afford them.
Japanese Women Writers: A Bio-Critical Sourcebook, edited by Chieko Mulhern is an interesting dictionary showcasing Japanese female writers. There's a huge time-gap between the writers of the Heian and Kamakura eras, and then a skip to the Meiji era. I don't agree with the writer's claim that there were virtually no women writers during the Edo period, particularly since I have translations of some of their poetry and Donald Keene notes some diaries written by women during this period in his book Travelers of a Hundred Ages, which I know that Mulhern read because she quotes it in some of her footnotes!
Setting that aside, the book did have some excellent essays regarding the following Heian and Kamakura era writers:
Ono no Komachi
Ise
Fujiwara Michitsuna's Mother
Sei Shonagon
Izumi Shikibu
Sugawara Takasue's Daughter
Sanuki no Suke
Fujiwara Shunzei's Daughter
Ben no Naishi
Abutsu-ni (the Nun Abutsu)
Nakatsukasa no Naishi
Junii Tameko (Kyogoku/Fujiwara Tameko)
Go-Fukakusa'in (Lady Nijo)
Eifuku Mon'in (Dowager Empress Eifuku)
The essays are excellent, reflecting both biographical information and some critical examinations of these writers' major works. I'll probably photocopy them (for personal use! It's allowed!) to refer to later. If the book were not so expensive, I'd buy it. There are also many excellent essays on Meiji and Taisho era female writers, but I'm just beginning to dabble in those waters.
The other book is Engendering Faith: Women and Buddhism in Pre-Modern Japan, edited by Barbara Ruch. This book is a treasure and I hope to be able to afford a copy one day. As the title reflects, it is a collection of essays (many translated from the Japanese) regarding the subject of women, particularly nuns, and their relation to the Buddhist faith. The essays include:
Burning Iron against the Cheek: A Female Cleric's Last Resort
Empress Komyo's Buddhist Faith: Her Role in the Founding of the State Temple and Convent System
State Buddhism and Court Buddhism: The Role of Court Women in the Development of Buddhism from the Seventh to Ninth Centuries
Vicissitudes in the Ordination of Japanese Nuns During the Eighth through Tenth Centuries
Tonsure Forms for Nuns: Classification of nuns according to Hairstyle
Buddhist Convents in Medieval Japan
"Nun Shogun": Politics and Religion in the Life of Hojo Masako
Nuns and Other Female Devotees in Genko Shakusho (1322), Japan's First History of Buddhism
Where the Bones Go: Death and Burial of Women in the Heian High Aristocracy
The Original Bomori: Husband and Wife Congregations in Early Shin Buddhism
And these are a portion of the essays--others go into subjects such as Divorce Temples, Scriptural Issues and Iconagraphy, as well as Tokugawa-era practices. It sounds dry, but actually, it's been very exciting reading so far. The subject of Women and Buddhism is very new to scholars (even in Japan) and there is a lot of work that still needs to be done. Makes me wish I could go to graduate school, finally learn Japanese properly, and be able to help in the study of this field!
I highly recommend this book for anyone interested in medieval Japanese women's lives.
Recent Comments
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Mrs. Hahn said:
eee! cute kitties! The polar bear is cute too. -grin- read more
on More Pics of my Cats (with Polar Bear bonus!) -
The Madmouser said:
[this is good]This is very interesting, not very political, but very interesting. read more
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galavantiator said:
[this is good]those are really nice drawings. =) read more
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怒涛の鮫 said:
[this is good]Lovecraft was awesome when it came to atmosphere. I find it sad that a lot of people in my ship... read more
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Aw, you look totally cute in that last pic! :D Very nice quilt and duvet. read more
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