Madelief and Her Dutch Garden

Since its publication in 1898, Elizabeth Von Arnim's 'Elizabeth and Her German Garden' has continued to delight readers with its evocation of the joy and wonder which she, the author, found in the gardens of her husband's Prussian estate. Those who know of, and follow, 'Madelief', will be familiar with the absolute loveliness of her own Dutch garden where, only a short bicycle ride from the heart of vibrant Rotterdam, she has created an oasis of calm, beauty and tranquillity scarcely to be imagined.

a pretty corner of Madelief's Dutch garden displaying a selection of Viola

Madelief, as we think of her, is most dear to us. And over recent days, staying with her in her most charming home set in a quiet, leafy area of the city, where cool canals flow alongside verdant grass banks, we have been treated to the most magical of times.

evening - a quiet, residential area of Rotterdam yet only minutes from the bustling centre

the sails of a landmark windmill stand out against the darkening sky over Rotterdam 

First there has to be Rotterdam. Such an exciting, thriving city with its contrast of old and new and its myriad of waterways. We took morning coffee in the newest of skyscrapers, the city spread below us, a patchwork of canals and rivers, shops and offices, bridges, parks and gardens, apartments and houses, factories and warehouses, all teeming with life.

just one example of many of the new and exciting buildings which populate Rotterdam

it is called taking a 'selfie' - Jane Hattatt and Madelief together in a Rotterdam skyscraper

Later we explored the New York Hotel, formerly the offices and headquarters of the shipping company 'Holland America Line' and so resonating of a vanished era.

interior of the New York Hotel, formerly offices of the Holland America Line

speeding down river in a water taxi - the New York Hotel between skyscrapers

From there, transported by speed boat, we found ourselves aboard the SS Rotterdam for lunch on the Lido Deck where, for a short while, we imagined ourselves plying the Atlantic as privileged passengers of the 1950s. So exciting. Such fun. As was tea, taken outside a tiny street café overlooking a quiet square, where we all indulged in a delicious raspberry lemonade [and as an aside to Magalie, we were not stabbed!!]. And beyond Rotterdam we left our hearts in Dordrecht, with its steam festival, and Delft, famous for its blue pottery. They, however, are tales yet to be told.

on board the SS Rotterdam - Lance Hattatt checks out the lifeboat station

leaving the SS Rotterdam, now permanently moored in the city where she was built 

But what remains indelibly with us is Madelief's garden. Bordered by a small canal it sits among a series of allotment gardens, each one distinctly individual, each one tended with care. Here she has created, in the very real sense of the word, a true cottage garden where old fashioned perennials cavort with colourful annuals, where fragrant roses are entwined with clematis, where honeysuckle scents the air, where birds sing, paths meander, and daisies dance on the lawn. Perfection.

this delightful summer house lies at the very heart of Madelief's garden

in the entrance of her summer house, Madelief radiates the happiness she finds in her garden

At the centre lies an enchanting little summer house with its treasures of decorative cups, saucers and plates, all made excellent use of for eating al fresco, its ornamental jugs and teapots, its country furniture, cushions, chandelier [really so] and its walls lined with paintings, photographs and prints. Where else to come across the regal, and young, King and Queen of Thailand?!! And beside that a tiny kitchen, complete with sink and drainer, all ordered and contained.

a young King And Queen of Thailand survey the scene

an eclectic mix of  treasures are gathered together on a vintage dresser

a corner of the garden with a weathered table used for outdoor dining

And as we looked down from the aeroplane on a receding Rotterdam en route home for Budapest, we took with us memories without equal of love, kindness, generosity and happiness which will be with us for all time. 

Jane Hattatt listening to the bird song rather than attempting to ride a bicycle

going Dutch - Lance Hattatt rides a bicycle along the path bordering Madelief's garden

Dank je wel! Hartelijk bedankt, Madelief, M, M, A [and B].

To Live a Life More Extraordinary

Mark Amory wrote, "When a second parent dies, some people feel threatened by death themselves, some feel overwhelmed with grief or regrets, some feel liberated and others feel all of these things." Luisa, Marchesa Casati Stampa di Soncino, eccentric Italian heiress, muse and patroness of the Arts, upon finding herself parentless at an early age, set about living a life more extraordinary than most.

Indeed, some might argue that she was a legend in her own lifetime, dominating, decorating, and delighting European society for almost three decades with her scandalous lifestyle, bizarre dress and intriguing choice of pets and live jewellery.

Luisa, Marchesa Casati Stampa di Sonico as portrayed by Cecil Beaton

Marchesa Luisa Casati could possibly be the most represented woman in Art after the Virgin Mary and Cleopatra. Legion numbers of painted portraits, sculptures and photographs were made in her image. Giovanni Boldini, Augustus John, Jacob Epstein and Cecil Beaton are just a few of the artists who she inspired.

She graced the dining rooms of Italian palazzos and English country houses, often with a pet snake as a companion. She attended balls and cocktail parties the length and breadth of Europe, dressed to live up to her aim of being 'a living work of art'.

'a living work of art' - Marchesa Luisa Casati, photograph by Cecil Beaton

She set trends rather than followed them. Her lively entourage of devoted followers comprised aesthetes, artists, bon-vivants, poets, writers, dancers and dandies. And, for royalty, aristocracy and commoners alike, she amused and outraged in equal measure.

the style of the Marchesa Luisa Casati as captured by Man Ray in 1924

And so, finding ourselves parentless, surely through misfortune rather than carelessness to misquote Oscar Wilde, having stopped counting birthdays and being far more preoccupied with leisure than with work, we contemplate new Casati-inspired career paths.

Shall we be, perhaps, waited upon by gilded naked youths? Should we make up our faces deathly white, dye our hair red, paint our lips vermilion and replace Teddy with a boa constrictor [in a box, of course] when attending the Opera? Dare we walk the streets of Budapest clad only in furs. Shall wax mannequins take the place of dinner guests when insufficiently amusing and entertaining people are in town?

The Hattatts consider the future, as seen in a looking glass at the Ari Kupsus Gallery 

Whatever, we are decided to follow in the fetching footsteps of the Marchesa as we patronise the Arts amongst the young talent of Budapest. But, at all costs, we must avoid her final fate of running up debts of millions of dollars. Carpe Diem!

Footnote:

We have been overwhelmed with the number of comments received on our previous post. To each we have made reply but in order to see later ones it is necessary to click 'Load More' whilst for the most recent, then 'Load More' must be clicked for a second time. To 'Admirer', please feel free to be in touch by email.

With or Without Lemon

Afternoon tea is one of life's gentle luxuries. No more so than when taken in the company of close friends where lively conversation is matched with delicious scones, sandwiches and cakes beautifully and elegantly served in the most pleasing and attractive of settings. Such was the case recently at Horsted Place, a rather splendid country house hotel set deep in the Sussex countryside.

That the experience was presumptuously dismissed by a young friend, who had been treated to the occasion, as "meaningless" did somewhat draw our breath. That this had formed part of a gift of a birthday  celebration comprising a five day, first visit to the United Kingdom should, we assume, be regarded as irrelevant. That the entire trip should pass with little in the way of a thank you, for such we are told are "empty words", should, we imagine, be a matter of indifference. That we should ourselves feel as an outcome somewhat lacking in value is, surely, a failing on our part. After all, have we not been brought up on the prayer of Saint Ignatius whereby we are extolled "to give and not to count the cost"?

Jane Hattatt ruminates on the standards of politeness in today's world

There was a time, seemingly now in the Dark Ages, when politeness and common courtesy were to be found in abundance. It was, in the way of modern parlance, 'cool' to say thank you, to appear interested in and enthusiastic for whatever was on offer. Put simply, to delight in receiving and to have joy in giving. Flowers appeared in response to a lunch invitation, wine to one for dinner, whilst an overnight stay would, as a matter of course, be followed with the ubiquitous 'bread-and-butter' letter. Sadly today's post box has little to show beyond bills and one looks forlornly for an email or text message.

But perhaps it is we who are out of kilter, to use a deliciously old fashioned phrase? It is we who need to 'get a life'. Indeed, to draw upon a completely unsolicited comment left, but not published, on a recent post of ours by a fellow blogger, previously unknown to us:

"This is one of the most boring blogs that I have ever stumbled upon".

We beg forgiveness. We crave your forbearance. We shall try harder!

Diary Delights!

Those who are aware of the activities of Mrs. Hague as portrayed and outlined in Osbert Sitwell's poem of that name will be conscious that:

"Monday was Washing Day,

Tuesday was Baking Day,

Wednesday h'Alfred 'as 'is dinner h'early,"

Happily, thanks to the excellence and efficiency of our cook/housekeeper, Tímea, our lives are not quite so curtailed with domestic chores.

tickets for a variety of performances attended over the last two weeks

a selection of programmes arranged on the piano in the Morning Room

Indeed, looking back over the previous two weeks we can, in fact, only count on one night 'in', so to speak, the rest having been enjoyed 'out' with a variety of concerts, a Private View, wonderfully delicious dinners in numerous Budapest restaurants, matched only by those served in the homes of friends, contemporary dance, the cinema, not to mention a surprise joint birthday party given for us by The Bright Young Things as well as Anniversary celebrations.

birthday flowers sent by the divine Mad Italian boys, Carlo and Andrea

more birthday flowers, arranged in the Front Hall, to greet visitors

And such fun we have had. Highlights must include in the way of music the most amazing 'Habilitácios Hangversenye' where our extraordinarily gifted and talented friend, Nemes László [Director of the Kodály Institute of Music], conducted a choir to include works by Mendelssohn and Schónberg and which can only be described as outstanding.

at the 'Habilitácios Hangversenye' concert with Madame Kodály [seated left]

On another night we attended a concert performance with the Purcell Choir of Rameau's 'Les Fétes de Polymnie', superb in every respect, whilst most recently, our Polish friend, Magdalena Wajdzik, played the work of the young composer, Baqais Ádám, in a most interesting competition concert. To this must be added a somewhat lack lustre, at least for us, evening with Rufus Wainwright made up for by an exciting evening of modern dance where, in each piece, we could count our friends amongst the dancers.

tickets, and handbag,  for a disappointing evening with Rufus Wainwright

A trip to the cinema, 'A Grand Hotel Budapest', left us with divided opinions but not so dinner out with friends where we were treated to an Italian restaurant, 'Via Luna',  to 'Spinoza', a firm favourite, and to 'M' where we enjoyed a hilarious evening with close friends one of whom is, in all truth, a Princess from China! Next day in the Four Seasons Hotel, for reasons unknown, she so generously showered us with gifts and presented us with the most enormous teddy bear!!

an evening at 'M' restaurant with friends Alexander and Stella - such fun

'The Princess' presenting Lance Hattatt with a teddy bear , Alexander 

Now, at the invitation of The Várfok Gallery, Budapest's longest established private art gallery, we are looking ahead to Wednesday when we shall lead a VIP Tour of the latest exhibition showing the work of two leading Hungarian contemporary artists, Jovánovics Tamás and Keseru Károly.

 invitation for VIP Private Tour prior to the opening of the exhibition

Our work is cut out!! But it beats Washing Day!!

Off With His Head

There is something more than a little strange about the world as depicted in the paintings of Orr Máté [in Hungarian the surname is always placed first]. Human forms may sport the head of animals, violence erupts in sword or saw, in axe or arrow, in a Still Life one senses putrefaction, a cabbage rots, fungi fester, birds and beasts are exiled from their natural habitat to become part of a domestic scene, the familiar translates to the unfamiliar, the known to the unknown.

Orr Máté answering a point in his Budapest studio with a work in progress

For Orr Máté, the curious attracts and the more curious the greater the attraction. Born in 1985 and a graduate of The Hungarian University of Fine Arts in Budapest, Orr Máté is, without a shadow of a doubt, with numerous exhibitions to his name and his work widely collected in both Europe and the United States of America, one of the rising stars of Hungarian painters of his generation.

shelves in the studio are filled with an eclectic mix of objects and materials

A visit to his Budapest studio is a telling experience. Here, amongst the brushes and well worked tubes of oil paint, are to be found provisional sketches [for every painting is painstakingly worked from concept to completion], maquettes, works in progress and completed canvases. Shelves display a miscellany of objet trouvé: a gilded skull, a porcelain rabbit, a plastic lobster. Inspiration is taken from life itself.

a near finished painting, with preliminary oil sketches, indicates the process of work

Enquiries of his work are answered with a quiet assurance and authority which emanate from a lively, intelligent and creative mind whilst a very real sense of humour and fun make this self-effacing painter, who describes his work as 'Baroque-Futurism', a joy to know and to count as a friend.

in the drawing room Orr Máté is pictured with some sketches relating to a commission

It would, we feel, be presumptuous to call ourselves 'Collectors' of Orr Máté's work, or indeed anyone else's. But with two [and one tiny] paintings now hanging on our walls, and an exciting commission under way, possibly we may at least be thought of as 'Interested'!! We rather hope so!!

'Scene with Hare', a moment in time captured, hangs above the sideboard

Today our newest acquisition 'Pelican' or, as we think of it, 'Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man' [with apologies to James Joyce], impacts upon the drawing room. Here in this nude self-portrait are to be found so many familiar elements: the often repeated motif of the chequerboard; the human head replaced [in this case with that of a bird]; the suggested threat of danger [the weapon]; the 'flat' Matisse-type paint effects. With closer observation the fiery red of the bird's beak assumes a phallic quality, in direct contrast to the shadowy genitals, the axe points inwards to create a disturbing tension whilst the stance of the figure itself suggests on the one hand virile masculinity and, on the other, human vulnerability.

here the artist unpacks the newest of our paintings, an oil on canvas, titled 'Pelican'

   

'Pelican', oil on canvas, positioned in the drawing room - certain to excite comment

On Friday evening Orr Máté accompanied us to the State Opera House for a production of Wagner's 'The Flying Dutchman' . Somehow fitting, or so we think!

Orr Máté at the opera prior to the performance. Lance Hattatt is pictured in the glass seated

after the opera enjoying pudding in the bar of The Four Seasons Hotel, Budapest

Off the Tracks

Lance Hattatt and Rafael González Paz: the gateway of Colonia del Sacramento

Had there been a railway, then we should have travelled to Colonia del Sacramento by train. But, alas, the Central Uruguay Railway, in British control from 1878 until Nationalisation in 1948, is no more and so, per force, we resorted to the bus.

a woman seen through an open doorway sits patiently beside her Christmas Tree

a cobbled street within the Old Town leads down towards the River Plate and the sea

Some three hours later, our route having taken us along avenues of palm trees, we alighted in the old quarter, designated a World Heritage Site, of this historic town where shady squares, cobbled streets and quiet alleys gave voice to a time having stood still.

the vibrancy and colour of South America is reflected in the interior of this small café

A set of tickets, purchased to give entrance to all museums, proved an unwise buy. Firmly closed for the summer holidays, we could only speculate as to what lay behind those locked doors. From the top of a lighthouse we wished ourselves across the still waters of the River Plate to where the distant spires of Buenos Aires rose visible through the haze of heat.

foiled once more as yet another museum advertises itself closed for the summer holidays

snapshots taken in the restaurant after a long lunch - a welcome respite from the heat

across a stretch of the River Plate, seen from the lighthouse, the city of Buenos Aires

Once more on terra firma we lingered over lunch, befriended stray cats, pressed our noses to the glass of unshuttered windows, wrote on picture postcards, scorned souvenirs, snapped snapshots and painted our lips red. Later, as the shadows of the day lengthened, we clambered over rocks, hunted for sea shells and, as all travellers do, dreamt dreams.

looking out to sea from the shore but, in fact, at the very edge of the River Plate 

 

in the late afternoon sun on the banks of the River Plate at Colonia del Sacramento

The Land of Chivito, Mate, and Rafaelito

"Darlings," we asked ourselves, "is this a country which works?"

Not at all, that is if we take heed of our friend AS who is convinced, unconvincingly, that there are only two countries in the world which have a legitimate right to such a claim: North Korea and Romania. Indeed, for those seeking the security and convention of a dull democracy, then Uruguay and, in particular, its capital Montevideo, is not the place for them.

But for us it was, and is, a dream become reality.

Palacio Salvo - a landmark building in central Montevideo

reminder of former colonial times - Montevideo town house

For how could we not be captivated with, and enchanted by, a country where the brilliance of a southern summer sun, shining through the December days, is reflected in the vitality and warmth of a people so relaxed and at one with themselves?

a cheery shopkeeper leans across his book store counter 

a woman in the park enjoying a drink of the traditional Mate

group of nurses returning to the hospital after the lunch break - note the Mate

With our Mad Boy, Rafaelito, to act as our guide we toured the old town with its crumbling colonial-style shops and houses, its faded Coca-Cola signs, its bustling markets, street corners and pleasant parks. And at each turn always something to fascinate, to interest, to intrigue. New, new world indeed!

Coca-Cola, almost a National drink, seen advertised almost everywhere

the port area with Lance Hattatt and Rafael González Paz

browsing among the books and objets d'art in the Old Town

explanations being given by Rafaelito [Rafael González Paz]

playing at statues in a small city park within the Old Town

possibly not quite the Harrods of Montevideo but hugely interesting

Denied entry to the port to see the anchor of the 'Admiral Graf Spee', scuttled at the mouth of the River Plate in December 1939, we merrily, through the persuasive talk of Rafaelito, skipped past the guards and into the house where Garibaldi had once upon a time lived.

Jane Hattatt, Rafael González Paz and Lance Hattatt at Garibaldi' s house

A music concert, a night at the opera, a tango party [led astray by Rafaelito], a mausoleum, museums, cathedrals and churches, and buskers on buses all served to delight us further.

staircase, looking down from above, inside the Museum of Decorative Arts 

inside the mausoleum situated underneath the Plaza Independencia

purchasing tickets for the opera , 'Il Duce' at Teatro Solis- a very jolly occasion

In Pocitos, a residential suburb, we were invited into one of Montevideo's finest extant Art Deco buildings, ate delicious dinners and cavorted on the seashore.

Art Deco at Edificio el Mástil, 3105 Avenida Brasil

clambering over rocks on the shore of the River Plate

A Sunday market, occupying several streets, proved amazing, a handbag snatched and stolen alarming, a Christmas dinner of uncooked rice [woe on you Rafaelito] inedible, and a trip to Colonia del Sacremento pure heaven.

young rabbits, just one of countless items for sale in the Sunday street market

motoring in Colonia with Rafael González Paz [Rafaelito] and Lance Hattatt

But of Colonia del Sacremento there will be more to tell! [click on all images to enlarge]