Where The World Meets™
A t times I am able to steal a few moments and retreat into my place of beauty. A place where the physical world transcends an era. I slip between a crevice in ‘time and space’ where I am elevated onto a crest of eternity, and carried off to a place where the past, present and future all meet. I am a ‘Time Traveler’… surrounded by stories of other’s lives -- stories told through the very objects that have lived amongst those same lives. Entering this magical space, I am greeted by a 19th century Italian marble bust of an Art Nouveau Maiden -- she is a cloud of beauty emerging from stone. Her gentle yet strong presence leaves me wondering if she is not the overseer of all these tales. I turn my attention slightly to the right, as though hearing someone call out to me. My eyes are dazzled by swirls of bright colored fabrics, dancing playfully around a nymph. With flyaway hair and her near pellucid skin, she appears to be suspended in midair. This nymph, attended by a cherub, is painted upon a 19th century French porcelain urn. I can see the artist... intensely focused as he completes the final details of his painting with long, slow, deliberate brush strokes followed by rapid movements. I dare not make a sound, fearful that he become aware of my presence. He continues with meticulous brush strokes, stopping periodically to dab the fine hairs of his narrow brush onto layers of color resting upon his palette. Slowly and quietly I back away, only to find myself surrounded by prisms of light. I am awestruck at the sight of an elegant 19th century French crystal chandelier. Garlands of cut glass dangle beneath her outstretched, painted arms. She is swanlike, wearing a crown of gilded leaves on her frame, a diadem of glory. With quiet grace she casts amber shadows throughout the room. A couple appears, held in a tight embrace. Music fills the space and an entire scene unfolds before me. They are dancing, whirling beneath the glow of the candles, faces warm and flushed from the heat of the flames and the warmth of their breath. I slowly turn away from that scene so as not to stay too long in their private moment. I move forward, toward an 18th Century gilded mirror. In the rippling waterlike reflection of the old glass, I do not see my face, but that of another. The beautifully carved golden frame surrounds her, making her appear as if almost regal. These rippling old mirrors watch me as I wander throughout the room. Now, I too am part of their recital! Transporting forward and backward in time, the past, present and future become one, for they too have been transformed by the experience. As I pause to catch my breath, my attention is grabbed by the scratching sounds of a pen. Quick staccato rhythms fill the air as words of great importance are hurriedly written across a single sheet of paper. I turn toward these sounds and find myself standing in front of a striking young maiden with alabaster skin and thick trusses of long chestnut colored hair. Enveloped in layers of silken fabric, she has an air of vulnerability and sorrow. She suddenly stops her writing and turns anxiously toward the door. Suspended on the edge of her inhale, she waits. Nothing happens. Abruptly, she turns back to her desk and resumes... a ‘love letter’ -- our heroine is the sole character living in Pio Ricci’s 1875 painting of that very name. Pained by the intense sound of her scribble, I turn away to find some relief. I enter an adjoining room which is home to a bucolic setting of nymphs and cherubs sprawled amongst lush vegetation, small animals and musical instruments. Surrounded by a magnificent border of flora, these enchanting scenes are set within a pair of turn-of-the-century French tapestries. With childlike anticipation, I take a seat, lingering for the scene to unfold. Now begins the Dance of the Meadow Nymphs. It goes like this: First there is stillness. Then our central character, the main nymph, is being adorned by the others. As one straightens her dress, another arranges her hair. After a few moments of preparation, the dancing begins. Our goddess quickly, yet gently rises. She is looking out toward me, the sole audience. She turns briskly. I hear the swoosh of her dress and the exhale of her breath. She reaches, stretching outward on her diagonal -- on the end of her inhale, she is pulled back by the others. Together, they all swirl. With quick, slight frolicsome movements, their feet gracefully spring them up in the air, away from one another. They move throughout the space like autumn leaves scattering in the wind. Again they come together. Playfully taking turns, reaching outward, only to end up pulling and swirling one another inward. With hair wisping somewhat like that of an echo struggling to keep up with its source, this Dance of the Meadow Nymphs goes on for quite some time. Suddenly they are still. I notice the nymphs resume their starting position, only now they have altered places. A new leader is our goddess. With all eyes set upon her, they straighten her dress, position her hair, adorning her for the next dance. A dance that will last for all eternity. Exhale...Extend...Swoosh...Turn...Inhale ...A Symphony of Movement!
 
 
Thursday's Antiques specializes in Fine French Art & Antiques. Clients include art collectors & interior designers nationwide. Proprietor Andrea Lynn Fisher, procures 19th century European paintings for a noted art scholar who authenticates paintings for both Christie's and Sotheby's New York. To view works of 19th century French painters & sculptors who exhibited in the Salons of Paris, and Andrea’s fine selection of 18th, 19th & turn of the century French antiques, visit: www.thursdaysantiques.com Browsers and Dreamers welcome!http://www.thursdaysantiques.comshapeimage_10_link_0
by Andrea Lynn Fisher
Time Travel ...with Thursday’s Antiques