The clothing was the same, but the companionship was different.
I joined friends for another tour through the VMFA's "Hollywood Costume" exhibit, their first, my second, but this time on Thursday when the museum is open later and more people were bound to be there.
What was most interesting on this visit was the generational differences I saw.
Boomer-looking types seemed impressed by Indiana Jones' distressed leather jacket, made to look weathered with mineral oil and dirt rubbed into it and requiring ten jackets in total throughout the filming.
Millennials seemed far more taken with Matt Damon's "Bourne Ultimatum" ensemble, innocuous in style and color, but requiring 25 jackets to get through the rigorous filming.
Since I haven't seen either movie, my interest shifted to costumes from films I had seen.
Like the elaborate lavender dress with cloth flowers that Barbra Streisand wore in "Funny Girl."
Marilyn Monroe's exquisitely beaded dress from "Some Like It Hot," a movie I only saw for the first time in 2010, despite it being made in 1959.
With its nearly nude color on a curvy body like Marilyn's, it must have been a knockout, especially in a film with men dressed as women for contrast.
One thing that struck all of us as we looked at the men's costumes in the show was how much shorter a lot of the actors were than we thought; people like Mel Gibson, Stallone, Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp don't even reach six feet.
It was clear, though, from the John Wayne model that he was not vertically-challenged.
The videos in the exhibit were illuminating, too, like Meryl Streep talking about how costume designer Ann Roth got her wish with "Mamma Mia" because she finally got to dress Streep in a sexy manner.
And, you know, looking at the array of Streep costumes in the show - "The French Lieutenant's Woman," "Out of Africa," "The Iron Lady," she had a good point.
All of us agreed that DeNiro's costume from 1994's "Mary Shelley's Frankenstein" was the most sculptural item in the show, resembling as it did, a massive metal figure.
One of the males in our group fell in love with Joseph Fiennes' leather jacket? doublet? from "Shakespeare in Love," a marvel of intricate stitching and fitted like a glove to the actor's upper body.
Looking at the ornamented and enormously heavy dresses women of that era wore, it hardly seems fair men got way with boots, breeches and a doublet.
Luckily we'd corrected that by the time of Sharon Stone's white crepe suit from "Basic Instinct," with its short skirt and absence of underwear.
Far easier to maneuver in.
By the time we finished going through the exhibit, everyone had a different favorite costume, but some shared wishes for the displays, mainly more information.
How much did that Batman suit weigh? For that matter, how much did that dress from "Elizabeth" Cate Blanchett wore weigh? How did Tobey Maguire get that Spiderman suit on and how tough were bathroom breaks?
Inquiring minds wanted to know, but it was time to go our separate ways.
Not sure what their plans were, but I had a date at Ipanema where their "Steal this Wine" list assured me interesting choices at affordable prices.
Bartender Gabe greeted me with a "Where the hell have you been?" and a high five while I waited to see if my date would show.
He encouraged me to go ahead and order a bottle of wine, saying it would be a measure of my date's character to see how he reacted to me ordering wine when he was running late.
Lo and behold, there on the wine list was 2012 Occhipinti SP68, the Nero d'Avola and Frappato blend I'd had my last night in Rome, here.
Earthy and tasting of raspberries, it was everything I remembered from my Roman holiday finale.
Feminine and elegant. Delicate with lots of finesse. A bio-dynamic wine made by a talented, groovy woman.
Even better, it was right here in Richmond and I could drink it on this side of the Atlantic with a witty and talented man who'd asked me out tonight.
Score.
While the Ipanema crowd buzzed around us, we got into the quirky Treveri Brut Rose I'd recently had, the wall of sound with thick Scottish accents that is the Twilight Sad and how to woo a woman with the sound of an ocean.
So far, he was doing really well.
With a soundtrack that segued from Jefferson Airplane to emo, we got into flower arranging, right brain versus left brain and squirrel traps.
Eventually, Gabe was gracious enough to bring us a bottle of 2011 Edmunds St. John "Fenuaghty Vineyard" Syrah, which server Jessica, whom I know as the violinist in Zac Hryciak and the Junglebeat, had recommended to me for its black pepper notes and which caught my date's eye for its maker, one of California's Rhone Rangers.
So while the girl with the bright red hair (and fake boobs) and her almost completely-tattooed companion took the stools next to us, we savored a lovely wine and mad flirting.
I don't have an Ann Roth to dress me in sexy clothing, but the companionship was outstanding anyway.
No telling what might have happened if I'd worn a wool crepe suit and no underwear.
Nah, not my style.
Showing posts with label Treveri brut rose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Treveri brut rose. Show all posts
Friday, November 22, 2013
Monday, November 18, 2013
Last of the Romantics
As if this unexpectedly balmy weather isn't enough to make a girl swoon, there was romance the whole night long.
Classical Revolution RVA was doing an evening called "Romantic Incarnations," so I dug up a (couple) date; left my windows open and met them at Balliceaux.
With a bottle of Domaine de Rome Sancerre and seats near the back, we were ready to hear music from the Romantic period as well as just plain romantic music.
And, let's face it, few words are as subjective as "romantic."
But Holmes and his beloved know music so I think they'd have enjoyed their first Classical Incarnations no matter what kind of music was played.
We'd missed the very beginning of the show, walking in on Alex playing violin to Debussy's "Beau Soir," followed by Stephanie singing an aria to organizer David's piano.
Andrew and his classical guitar got the award for Best Costume, coming onstage with his shirt collar up and tie unloosened, saying, "You may have asked yourself, why is he wearing his tie so ridiculously."
Seems he was emulating the look of composer Francisco Tarrega. "Google him and you'll see in the first picture that comes up. I wanted to present in the style when it was composed."
Okay, so I did look it up when I got home and he was right.
Like many other Romantic composers who incorporated their country's folk music into their compositions, Tarrega's "An Arabic Caprice" had a decided Muslim-sounding element.
At least until the guy in the bathroom near our seats dropped the toilet lid and it reverberated right to the fifteen-foot ceiling in there.
On the other hand, this is exactly what Classical Revolutions set out to do: put classical music in a relaxed bar setting instead of a concert hall.
Talking, moving around and probably even lid-dropping are all fair game, and by those standards, tonight's crowd was fairly sedate.
During intermission, I checked in with Holmes & Co. to make sure they were enjoying themselves, but then how could any music-lover not enjoy a free night of classical musicians choosing their own music?
An anniversary card was being passed around because tonight marked the end of Classical Incarnations' first year, a cultural milestone.
David came out alone to do a technically demanding Chopin scherzo, all flying fingers and, if you ask Holmes, excess of bass.
I don't presume to hear such things.
We saw two classical guitarists from VCU and a violinist named Nathan who did a lullaby written by the man he called "the czar of violinists" and for his son, Antoine.
Holmes, ever the card, leaned over and observed sotto voice, "If I were up there to play my viola, I'd tell a few viola jokes first."
I thought that was pretty hysterical.
Classical guitarist Andrew returned to give a shout-out to VCU's school of music, commenting on how many VCU alums and students were performing tonight.
"We're so lucky to have VCU in our city," he reminded everyone.
He was finishing the evening with three pieces, but first he explained to us why Liszt was the original rock star.
He was a notorious home-wrecker. He had amazing chops, touring Europe to great acclaim. He organized the first benefit concerts for earthquake relief, and then referenced Live Aid, although I'm not sure he was born yet.
I'd say Andrew made a pretty good case for Liszt.
His final song was one he said he'd learned just last night. "This last one will be short and sloppy and for that I ask your forgiveness."
As discussed with my crack team of a date, we only heard short, not sloppy.
"So that's it. We're done," David said unceremoniously to let us know it was time to exit, stage right.
It was a tad jarring after all that high quality romancing we'd just had.
But since it was still early, Holmes and the near-Mrs. invited me back for some left coast bubbles he'd recently picked up.
Treveri brut rose was not only looked like the most gorgeously feminine of pinks, but tasted that way, too, with lots of strawberry and just enough crispness.
I was invited down into the man cave, where the music, the bar and the comic book collection dwell along with the dust of ancient civilizations.
Holmes was in charge of music, although he also took requests and moderated discussions about song tempos (see: "Layla," "After Midnight" et al) when required.
Necessarily, the music followed Holmes' curve, coming as it did from his CD collection, so Byrds (I do love a twelve-string guitar), Gene Clark, Patty Griffin, that ilk.
The most unusual request came from Beloved and was for a CD of music that was played during the Kennedy years in the White House, stuff like Pablo Casals, Mahalia Jackson and Count Basie, something she'd picked up at the VMFA.
It even included the overture to "Camelot," which has one of the most romantic songs ever written.
But if I'd ever leave you
It couldn't be in autumn
How I'd leave in autumn, I never will know
I've seen how you sparkle
When fall nips the air
I know you in autumn
And I must be there
Drinking pink bubbles and listening to more romantic music, now that's the way you keep the evening's theme going.
Even solo.
Classical Revolution RVA was doing an evening called "Romantic Incarnations," so I dug up a (couple) date; left my windows open and met them at Balliceaux.
With a bottle of Domaine de Rome Sancerre and seats near the back, we were ready to hear music from the Romantic period as well as just plain romantic music.
And, let's face it, few words are as subjective as "romantic."
But Holmes and his beloved know music so I think they'd have enjoyed their first Classical Incarnations no matter what kind of music was played.
We'd missed the very beginning of the show, walking in on Alex playing violin to Debussy's "Beau Soir," followed by Stephanie singing an aria to organizer David's piano.
Andrew and his classical guitar got the award for Best Costume, coming onstage with his shirt collar up and tie unloosened, saying, "You may have asked yourself, why is he wearing his tie so ridiculously."
Seems he was emulating the look of composer Francisco Tarrega. "Google him and you'll see in the first picture that comes up. I wanted to present in the style when it was composed."
Okay, so I did look it up when I got home and he was right.
Like many other Romantic composers who incorporated their country's folk music into their compositions, Tarrega's "An Arabic Caprice" had a decided Muslim-sounding element.
At least until the guy in the bathroom near our seats dropped the toilet lid and it reverberated right to the fifteen-foot ceiling in there.
On the other hand, this is exactly what Classical Revolutions set out to do: put classical music in a relaxed bar setting instead of a concert hall.
Talking, moving around and probably even lid-dropping are all fair game, and by those standards, tonight's crowd was fairly sedate.
During intermission, I checked in with Holmes & Co. to make sure they were enjoying themselves, but then how could any music-lover not enjoy a free night of classical musicians choosing their own music?
An anniversary card was being passed around because tonight marked the end of Classical Incarnations' first year, a cultural milestone.
David came out alone to do a technically demanding Chopin scherzo, all flying fingers and, if you ask Holmes, excess of bass.
I don't presume to hear such things.
We saw two classical guitarists from VCU and a violinist named Nathan who did a lullaby written by the man he called "the czar of violinists" and for his son, Antoine.
Holmes, ever the card, leaned over and observed sotto voice, "If I were up there to play my viola, I'd tell a few viola jokes first."
I thought that was pretty hysterical.
Classical guitarist Andrew returned to give a shout-out to VCU's school of music, commenting on how many VCU alums and students were performing tonight.
"We're so lucky to have VCU in our city," he reminded everyone.
He was finishing the evening with three pieces, but first he explained to us why Liszt was the original rock star.
He was a notorious home-wrecker. He had amazing chops, touring Europe to great acclaim. He organized the first benefit concerts for earthquake relief, and then referenced Live Aid, although I'm not sure he was born yet.
I'd say Andrew made a pretty good case for Liszt.
His final song was one he said he'd learned just last night. "This last one will be short and sloppy and for that I ask your forgiveness."
As discussed with my crack team of a date, we only heard short, not sloppy.
"So that's it. We're done," David said unceremoniously to let us know it was time to exit, stage right.
It was a tad jarring after all that high quality romancing we'd just had.
But since it was still early, Holmes and the near-Mrs. invited me back for some left coast bubbles he'd recently picked up.
Treveri brut rose was not only looked like the most gorgeously feminine of pinks, but tasted that way, too, with lots of strawberry and just enough crispness.
I was invited down into the man cave, where the music, the bar and the comic book collection dwell along with the dust of ancient civilizations.
Holmes was in charge of music, although he also took requests and moderated discussions about song tempos (see: "Layla," "After Midnight" et al) when required.
Necessarily, the music followed Holmes' curve, coming as it did from his CD collection, so Byrds (I do love a twelve-string guitar), Gene Clark, Patty Griffin, that ilk.
The most unusual request came from Beloved and was for a CD of music that was played during the Kennedy years in the White House, stuff like Pablo Casals, Mahalia Jackson and Count Basie, something she'd picked up at the VMFA.
It even included the overture to "Camelot," which has one of the most romantic songs ever written.
But if I'd ever leave you
It couldn't be in autumn
How I'd leave in autumn, I never will know
I've seen how you sparkle
When fall nips the air
I know you in autumn
And I must be there
Drinking pink bubbles and listening to more romantic music, now that's the way you keep the evening's theme going.
Even solo.
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