Archive for the ‘family deaths’ Category

Violin/clock sculpture   Leave a comment

Granddaddy playing his air violin

Granddaddy playing his air violin

.

For as far back as I can remember, Tisolay and I have been playing music together, both on the victrola and on the piano to each other.  And for almost that long, there have been two records we could put on that would make my grandfather, regardless of what he was doing or where he was in the house, come into the livingroom with his arms waving in the air, bowing and fingering the neck of an imaginary violin; the Franck violin & piano sonata and Mendelssohn’s violin concerto.   It was a pretty safe bet, too, that before heading back to his study, he’d slowly growl, “Laura, did you know that your grandfather was the world’s worst violin student?

.

.

.

One day in 2006, a box was delivered to my house from my step-father who, since the unexpected death of my mother the year before, was packing up to leave New Orleans.  It contained a bunch of small things that had belonged to Granddaddy, odd and broken tidbits that were left behind after most of her things had been donated to the university where she taught. It was a bittersweet delivery, coming on the heals of my mother’s one-two punch: first, her breaking my grandmother’s will in ’04, taking away my half of the estate, and then, after my mother’s unexpected death a year later, her will specifying that everything Tisolay had originally left to me was to go instead to the university.

A box of Granddaddy's things

A box of Granddaddy’s things

.

.

.

But, coming 2 years after her death, time had lessoned both the shock and the heartbreak, and post-Katrina construction had come to monopolize a great deal of my attention.  So, after the initial moment reliving the loss, I took notice that the main item in the box was Granddaddy’s violin, broken, but both neck and body present.  Also in the box was the silk scarf, given to him by his mother, he used to pad his collar bone as his chin held the violin against it.  Another item that I loved more than my mother realized, I suppose, was a cow horn bugle that had hung over the fireplace by Granddaddy’s chair since before I was born.  Together with his box of chess pieces, an old rope with a clamp hook, his gold belt buckle, Granddaddy’s things began to reconfigure themselves in my artist’s eye, mostly thanks to the fact that the violin’s neck had already broken off.  I saw the body of the violin as a sailing ship, the neck as a mast, and Granddaddy’s scarf, which fell into sections at the barest touch, as sails.  The long handled opium pipe, cut in half (*cringe*, yeah, I know), would serve as crossbeams for the sails.  I saw a few chess pieces as people and horses standing on deck, a leather case of throwing dice as cargo, the curve of the horn as a wave beneath its prow, the rope coiled neatly in seaman’s fashion, and next thing I knew, I was thinking of all sorts of things from my life with my grandparents that lent themselves to a nautical theme, things Tisolay had been sending me home with for several years without my mother knowing about it.  I thought it was a healthy sign that I could find creativity and fun in things that had symbolized such betrayal and emotional gutting only a year before.

__________________________________________

Wynken, Blinken and Nod

Wynken, Blinken and Nod

The Owl and the Pussycat

The Owl and the Pussycat

.

There were illustrations having to do with the sea from the children’s books Ti used to read to me.

Robinson Crusoe

Robinson Crusoe

.

.

.

.

.

.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Laura in Belize" by Tisolay, ca. 1967

“Laura in Belize” by Tisolay, ca. 1967.

.

.

.

.

.

There were drawings that she and I did together that were sea related, like her imaginings of my first trip to Belize when I was 9, drawn in ball-point pen in one of Granddaddy’s unused appointment books from a previous year . . .

Baccarat seahorse

Baccarat seahorse

. . . and my crayon drawing of a crystal seahorse figurine out of a Baccarat catalog, similarly drawn on one of G’s old notepads from his bank.

.

.

.

.

.

Proteus krewe favors

Proteus krewe favors, Granddaddy’s tux and tails cufflinks

.

.

.

.

.

.

Proteus silver doubloon, 1978, my year

Proteus silver doubloon, 1978, my year

.

.

There were mementoes of their many Mardi Gras balls together, mostly Proteus.  Proteus is the Greek god of the Sea, and Proteus krewe favors usually took the form of either scallop shells or seahorses.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Mementos of the SS Drance, 1959

Mementos of the SS France, 1959

.

.

.

.

There were mementoes of Tisolay and Granddaddy’s trip to Europe on the SS France in 1959, the year after I was born . . . luggage tags and dinner/cabaret reservations, an SS France ribbon, and a map of Florence.

Ti adored Florence, and the 1966 flood broke her heart, especially the damage to the Cimabue crucifix.  She read to me everything she could find on the restoration, especially when National Geographics wrote about it.

.

.

aaaaaaaDSCN0238

.

.

.

There was a  pamphlet and passenger list from the Munson Steamship Line which took Granddaddy to Brazil in 1928 for one of his first bank jobs, where he also got the aquamarine ring that scandalized his not-yet-mother-in-law, Tiwazzo.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.Tisolay’s broken Wedgwood coffee saucers make for good rolling waves beneath two French Polynesian island stamps that Ti had squirreled away in a drawer.  The three pottery shards I found on Deer Island on the Gulf Coast, known to be a rich midden-site of Paleo-Indians about 10,000 years ago.  Before Katrina, anyway.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

aaaDSCN2469b

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.     ****  PLEASE FORGIVE THE DELAY.  SHOULD BE COMPLETE BY DEC. ****

.nautical clock

long-handled opium pipe

frame

turquoise jewelry

Chinese cookie form

silver figurehead

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Advertisements