For convenience, read part 1 and part 2.

There is little known about the bird lady from the archeological point of view, nor would one infer much conclusions from a tried observation. When Henri de Morgan in the winter of 1906-1907 found the Terra-cotta statue from a tomb at El Ma'mariya, he did not record much about the excavation procedure, nor the tomb specifics. So There is even no consensus on what we should call her. Bird lady is possibly a pure invention our of one's imagination, but the name fits her well, or should we say in another way that the name does not matter here?

So far, I have heard three different versons of the possible meaning/purpose of the figurine. 

Ann Russmann, the curator, linked her with a pottery vessel from Naqada II period, which also bears a female figure whose arms sweep up like a bird. Because of her prominent proportion compared to the male figure next to her, Ann concluded she must be a goddess although the function is unclear. But the larger-than usual head of the female painted on the vessel is a clear statement that she has blossoming hairs. The bead head of the statue, on the contrary, with some rezin painted in black in a suggestive manner, looks more like from a bird.

Yekaterina Barbash, another curator of Egyptian Art compared her gesture with the funeral mourning convention. It is natural to think a mourner figurine would find her niche in a tomb. But from the available paintings, mourning women ususally pull their hands close in front of the faces or above the heads. In neither position will one see the arms wide open like a bird ready to fly.

The third version is from the book "The Egyptians" by Cyril Aldred published by Thames & Hudson (ISBN 0-500-28036-3). Cyril takes the note that she is wearing a long white skirt as the evidence of dancing. He even suggested the dance may be inspired by the bird-mating since the arms have an unusual upward mometum. With this assumption, he suggested that the fingurine may have magic fertility functions.

I have found none of the inferences totally convincing, nevertheless the figurine is and deserves to be the highlight among all wonderful Egyptian collections in the Brooklyn Museum. 

Unlike the later dynastic Egyptian period when statues are as strict as canonical paintings, the early artworks is from minds of great freedom. In my mind, her slim waist, wide buttock, bead head and peg-like legs connect directly to the spirit of Henry Moore where the rhythms of curves are as expressive and informative as the objects themselves. The arms that intrigues and ponders so many scholars and visitors break the abstract austerity with an unusual curve: bold, dynamic yet still elegant. Could she be just carrying some burden for the deceased? Or maybe the upward arms is a symbol of resurrection? I wondered.

Such artworks may seem too primitive for some visitors who praise the French academy or Roman statues. But the great art always bears some sort of unsolvable mystery as charming as Mona Lisa's smile. It brings unexpected rewards to those who frequent observe them with fresh eyes. And those who have done that enjoy the same degree of happiness as the kids treasure in a magic land. For example, although breasts are made crude and possibly modeled after the body part was completed, the highest point of the figurine -- the fingers -- are beautifully indicated with carefully aligned straight lines. Then as one looks at them and may even try to imitate the movement, here comes the surprise: The thumbs, which are supposed to be in the back in reality when arms reach high in the air, are curiously modeled in the front. Could it a result of ignorance or bluntness of the artist? Or maybe he meant to show us the thumbs in the front view? I don't know.

More than 5000 years have passed, standing quiet in a glass case, its unconventionality still challenges what we see and push us back to re-examine the seemingly gap between avant guard and antiquity.

The 1865 funeral of Seabury Tredwell in the Merchant's House Museum's is just one of the fall events that are sure to give a sense of the more somber traditions of the past.

An Exhibition: A Mid-19th Century House in Mourning is on display through Nov. 11. Seabury Tredwell's funeral is recreated in the parlors as the Museum explores mid-19th century mourning customs. Ghost Tours of the Merchant's House take place on October 29 & 30 with a special Ghost story telling Halloween Evening.

And perhaps the highlight, Sunday's re-enactment of Seabury Tredwell's Funeral followed by a casket-walk to New York City Marble Cemetery where Mr. Tredwell was temporarily interred. MORE

Nov 1 is the first Saturday of the month and one day before the election. Naturally there is a documentary featuring topics related to election.

My favorite pick is Artist Jesper Just discusses the exhibition at 8PM. I can foresee the competition for 30 tickets will be fierce. But if you can make it, go to Brooklyn Museum at 7 and watch a few of his short movies before joining the discussion with him at 8PM. That sounds a perfect plan.

For more information, visit here.

Part 1 is here.

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Even though the market prices of American paintings have gone record high in the past decades, the American Barbizon school nowadays is less known in public and claims little spotlights in the major auction houses. Between the grand panoramic rendering of Hudson River School and exciting, bright-toned eye-candy of American Impressionism, the Barbizon school was short-lived and apparently less appealing to the general public. But these painters quietly testified the statement for the first time of American art history that landscape paintings are and should be subjective and personal. With the advent of early photography, it was not accidental that these painters gave up details in the canvases and opted for the more intangible -- that can only be shown indicatively and suggestively.

The way Albert Bierstadt or Edwin Church orchestrated the elements with exceptional details and minutiae to extricate dramatic settings challenge the eyes more than the minds. We see apocalyptic clouds, we see also the leaves of the foreground vegetations. All are given in a scientific exactness, all given are the God's garden in God's perspective.; however, what is missing is the room for the minds to roam around. There is a peculiar contrast between the immense scales of the canvases and the aloofness of human feelings. Here are we, the onlookers at the mercy of the splendid techniques of the painters., whose intricate compositions are of great intellectual, but again we do not and need not have the role of participation.

Then came the late Inness, whose canvases have nothing solid and everything seems to be floating and out of focus. The lack of focus points forces the eyes to view the canvases in the whole, which were usually painted in a unified hue. Henry Ward Ranger started the painting with a special brownish varnish to which he attributed the magic glow inhis autumnal landscapes. Other painters like Dwight Tryon or John Francis Murphy used limited pallet with subdued colors. Quite often, the picture is medium dark, almost bordering murkiness. In viewing these pictures, the consciousness of audience has naturally changed from grasping what is offered in Hudson River school paintings to examine what can be explored in Barbizon paintings; in other words, our minds search instead of catch.

Such an ironic comparison can also be applied to infer the difference between Barbizon school and its succeeder - Impressionism. I have been fond of Impressionism and find that the best impressionistic paintings do not suppress the proactive thinking, the take-charge initiative from the audience by their pure visual pleasure. Too often, I have seen some modern Impressionism paintings with brilliant broken colors, or complimentary excitement; but there is nothing evocative beyond that point. And quite often the eyes get exhausted after experiencing a kaleidoscopic showcase of color range.

If the reduced color pallet and muted darkened tones in Barbizon paintings intrigue us into the depth of the canvas and the whole effect of the suggestive moods, then the typical subjects that are chosen by these group of painters bring us an infinite degrees of intimacy. Instead of the bird view of the grandeur that is supposed to be only enjoyed by the God, a closely acquainted or familiar scenes are frequently painted by Ranger, Tryon, and Murphy, etc. There are deep woods where we have trotted; or the brook that quenches both the cattles and travelers. The marshland of Murphy's paintings reminds the New Yorkers the nature of Long Island; while the old Church under the brush of Henry Golden Dearth stands for our unpretentious daily life. But contrary to the Impressionists, who preferred strong lightand shadow, Barbizon school would find its ideal in dusks or evenings when even the mundane objects bear a touch of tenderness or nostalgia. It is true that the foreground is most likely to be all muddily indistinguishable; yet the remains of the light is at once mysterious and momentary but also recalls something eternal and recurrent in one's subconsciousness. The profound sentimentality springs out when the unvarying surroundings take a softer form that combines the ordinary and the accustomed with the unanticipated. We've seen the trees growing taller as the sun sinks off the horizon, but only under the brush of the Barbizon painters do we really behold and enjoy the beauty of such sunset. In front of such paintings, we are encouraged to perceive out of the vagueness and to seek deeply into our profound memory because of the tendered moods, the suggestive brush strokes and the routine scenery which we think we know from the heart and which surprises us when filtered through painters' eyes.

In someway, Inness and his followers painted with a continuum of pianissimo. It is said: When volumes of the sounds are toned down, we hear our own internal echos, in a definite resonant.

Keep reading part 3 here. 

From my few words to dealers, it seemed that things weren't so great in terms of sales last weekend at the Gramercy Antiques Show. One dealer had been coming for more than ten years, but this was probably the worst. This informal survey was confirmed by the fact that I was there twice, probably for some four hours and didn't notice anyone leaving with anything.

If you read Maine Antiques Digest, you might notice some bargains going through auction. One example in the most recent issue is a Philadelphia Chippendale Chair, estimated at three times its selling price. A Belter table, one that would hve brought $20,000 or more a few years back, went for $8,000.

That the mid-market isn't good isn't news. Now it seems even the high-end isn't so hot. Take for example the recent news from Sotheby's.

Have antiques just fallen out of favor? Perhaps for now. I do think low to mid-range buyers are squeezed in places like New York by housing costs. The trendy glass condo look has encouraged shopping at Ikea rather than a flea market or antique shop. At the mid to high end, especially in terms of American antiques, there's just not a good feeling about the country and its heritage right now, and aside from the economy, that's not helping. But as JP Morgan noted long ago about markets, whether they be finance or antiques, they will fluctuate.

I have found the art, regardless of its form, attracts me the most when the meaning of it is bordering between vaguely suggestive and elusively evolving, in space, time and above all in human minds.

When I was in the elementary school, Tchaikovsky's endless melodies ran like spring water flowing through my toes. They are picturesque, animated and characteristic. It is as easy to identify a red bookbag in a gray rainy day as to recognize a tune by Tchaikovsky. But I have grown out of the mode when music has to be associated with certain images, objects or moods. The freshness of such music dies quickly as one listens to it more and more. Today I still listen to Tchaikovksy: his symphonies drives my emotions swirling and his violin concerto was still my favorite: a candid confession of sentimentality. But I have successfully avoided his suite of Nutcracker, especially in Christmas holidays in the US.

On the other hand, the late Beethoven, the contrapuntal works of Bach, the piano sound of Debussy and the symphonies of Mahler come to the top of my favorite list. They are terse, abstract, less-melodic, or at least not cantabile. If there is one feature to categorize them, that would be they refuse to be simplified into some categories. Beethoven digressed his late works with variations that filled the gap between heavenly serenity to stormy madness with infinite intermediate moods. Bach marked no tempo for his keyboard works. Debussy brought the most important part of his piano work - pedal technique up in the air (to the pianist's own discretion) while Gustav Mahler squeezed a life into one symphony that is seemingly long but actually too short for elaborated description.s He himself would later refuse to program his symphonies. All these gives great freedom yet even greater challenges to the performers, the best of whom should be both authoritative and personal. Some musicians also integrated ambiguity into their own style. Furtwangler would let the orchestra players pick the beat by quivering his batonless hand to indicate the start. Thus the beginning section of his Beethoven Sym No. 9 has a primitive openness, that is ready to expand and evolve like the initial chaos of the universal. Out of such mysterious extensiveness one immediately senses something extraordinary is going to roll out and sweep the minds.

For laymen like me, the ambiguity serves as the motivation and joy of listening behavior, either in concert halls or at home in front of stereo systems; because every listening experience may bring out something new, something unexpected. Their music, thereafter, has become the spring water bubbling out with eternal freshness in my adult life.

I have found the same pattern in the visual art. The greatest art may stun, shock or even blind the viewers, but elude the possibility of being "viewed" thoroughly. In other words, the wholeness of the great artwork may never be fully obtained, but can be enriched when one commutes directly with the artwork, converses with friends, or simply experiences the life. In his book "Antoine's Alphabet: Watteau and his World", Jed Perl said Watteau fought to feel fully alive by exposing unedited human feelings with uncertain settings. These "actors, musicians, or aristocrats or even wealthy commoners who are playing at being aristocrats", falls into the prey of disclosing the nuance in their emotions while acting out of their unreal theatrical surroundings. It is this strange juxtaposition, with an almost ridiculous lightness of being, of acting against the outer world while confessing sincerely inward, that makes his paintings bear the power that none other French artists of 18th century could have in persuading and touching modern minds. Arent' we always acting against the environ by guarding ourself constantly from being emotionally? And if so, aren't those fleeting melancholy moments of exposing the innermost feelings the absolute truth of beings?

Read part 2 at here.

The Gramercy Antiques Show provided my first experience at a New York show. The show provided a lot more eclecticism than I am used to. I'm not sure if this is a recent trend in New York, or if it's always been more diverse in its merchandise. While shows in the Mid-Atlantic Region have been trending to a wider mix of styles, booths with no distinct period or style seemed to outnumber those with a narrower focus. I do suspect that those who decorate a period home with period furnishings, or even decorate exclusively in a specific period are lessening. Ten years ago, I know the shows in the Mid-Atlantic would have far more early-American and classical booths than they do today, and I suspect they started dissapearing from New York shows before then.

The other phenomena is the diverse population at a New York show. While still largely and older white crowd, there was more diversity than would be in an Ohio show. More, because of the diverse nature of the city, New Yorkers are exposed to a variety of cultures and their decorative arts and are more likely to collect a diverse range of objects. I should mention there are more European dealers in New York than would be at a Mid-Atlantic show, although they focus on decorative arts more than furniture.

The economy of course is a bit of a bear right now, and Helaine Fendelman, Hearst Publishing Columnist, Estate Advisor, Author & Collector spoke to that effect during her tour/talk. Fendelman quoted the recent New York Times Editorial by Warren Buffet saying "Be fearful when others are greedy and greedy when others are fearful." She also referenced the newfound green nature of an antique, and encouraged consumption during the downturn in the hopes that a parian here, a budda there would jumpstart the economy.

I didn't leave with anything, but I did enjoy pondering a number of items at the show and just might be there again tomorrow.

When Herodotus visited Egypt in 5BC, he left one of the most remarkable comments on Egyptian art:

Concerning Egypt itself I shall extend my remarks to a great length, because there is no country that possesses so many wonders, nor any that has such a number of works which defy description.

He would have had to live another 2300 years for the discovery of Amarna culture, even long if he had wanted to see the golden mask of Tutankhamum and his buried treasure. But on the other hand, what he saw was still an ancient Egypt, a nation of antiquity in si tu. Coming from the Mediterranean Greek culture , he found only particularity in Egypt: the strange and alien nature contrasting the grand scale and numerous quantity of monuments and temples.

He also commented that the Egyptians were the most religious nation than any other he had known. To this, I have my own reservation. Although there were no single god that Egyptians worship and polytheism can be both used to describe Greeks and Egyptians, the roles of religions in the two cultures are not the same. For Greeks, gods have virtues and vice. They believe instead something called fate which cannot be controlled. The fallen of gods in front of threats, lure and rumors make them more human and accessible. It was no accidental that Democracy was introduced in Greece.

On the contrary, Egyptians faced the most strict totalitarian rulers who raised themselves as incarnation of the God. To understand the passion of Egyptians toward religions through numerous monuments and grand temples is as hard as to grasp the under meaning of notes of a spy. Egyptians were anything but realistic with respect to art or writing. The inscription of the temple walls are required by the pharaohs and fulfilled by ordinary people. They did not say that they didn't't believe in pharaoh's rightness of governing and spending gold and human flesh as if both were dust, but it didn't mean they didn't have such thoughts perhaps. It is like people in North Korea sing and listen to the propaganda songs every day, not by choice, but as a consequence. The blindness of worship toward Amum-Re in New Kingdom is basically from a group of elite class whose voices can be heard the most. The regular people, the soldiers, the artisans, and the peasants, who trotted through desert, carved the stones with bare hands or bended their body plowing seasonally, were the silent majority whose own views of religion were outshone by the transcendental architecture which they contributed directly or indirectly.

The existing documents from ordinary people, however, show that they seeked their strength more from moral standpoints or humanity. After all, in the life-long fight with harsh living, eternity was not something they considered the first.

In a soldier's diary during the reign of Tuthmosis, he wrote: "The tree I lie under at night have nothing to eat on them. Sand flies keep biting me and sucking my veins dry. I'm hobbling about like a cripple because I have to go everywhere on foot. "

In Deir el-Medineh where Ramesses II built the royal tombs, the villagers recorded their daily happening without glorification of what they were doing: creation of the after life for the greatest king. They criticized stinginess or laziness. "If, God forbid. I was the type who couldn't hold their drink, then you'd be right not to invite me, but I'm just someone who's a bit short of beer in his own house." " Well, you told me to give him a job. I did exactly that, but he takes ages to bring a jug of water." They also had a strong sense of moral standard who didn't differ that much from that of today. "You've been arguing with my mother and threatening to throw her out. Your mother never does anything for you."

But nothing can say more about the religious belief of common Egyptians than the fact that when the empire declined, the same people who built the royal tombs plundered and desecrated them. Some of them may still have a fear of being denounced by the deceased spirit sso that they intentionally defaced the statues or the names. But the fear didn't amount big enough to quench their thirst for gold, amulets and jewelery. In the final act, the priests had to carried the 40 royal mummies from the toms to secret locations where they might rest peacefully. Among them, Ramesses II's body were piled in caves with no offerings, decorations at all for another 3000 thousand years before they were discovered. The Ramesseum, thus becomes the biggest ridicule on earth to taunt the immortality of gods and their incarnation.

This weekend, don't miss "Antiques - A Silver Lining in The Storm" Sat., Oct. 25 @ 2p.m. at the Gramercy Antiques Show. A show walk-through and talk on the financial benefits of buying antiques in uncertain times with Helaine Fendelman, Hearst Publishing Columnist, Estate Advisor, Author & Collector. Helaine will point out collecting trends and good values that can be found right at the show. http://preview.tinyurl.com/5pfjev

Also, maybe times aren't so tough yet in Chicago, the second annual Merchandise Mart International Antiques Fall Fair reported it brought more than 100 dealers and thousands of visitors to The Merchandise Mart, Chicago from Oct. 3 – 6, 2008. Its success once again designated the show as one of the premier antiques fairs in the country.

“Both participation and attendance of the Antiques Fair was very strong,” said Joan Ulrich, senior vice president of Merchandise Mart Properties, Inc. “Even in this turbulent economy, many of the dealers had a great show, which shows the value and allure of high-quality antiques.” The Fall Antiques Fair began with a Preview Party on Oct. 2, benefiting the Lincoln Park Zoo. “People from throughout the community attended and everyone showed their over whelming support for the zoo and the Antiques Fair.” said Marty Peterson, 2008 Merchandise Mart Preview Party event chair.

It was a beautiful day for a trip North. And Eric and I took the suggestion from a friend and hopped onto the Metro North. Just 72 minutes away from Grand Central, Cold Spring NY feels so laid back as if life has not changed that much since the 19th century.

Hudson River is much wider than what I had expected. The cliffs are high and mountains layered. On the train, I watched the grand panorama in awe not just because of its natural beauty but also its history with Thomas Cole and Edwin Church, both of whose houses have been preserved nowadays.

Along the Main street of Cold Spring, we explored most of the antique stores. Except one high-end stores with meticulous Mahogany veneered pier tables and side boards, other stores are fun to sift through. An old women told me how to tell whether a cloisonne was made in China or Japan. It looked fairly old, then I saw in the same locked cabinet a very amateurishly carved alabaster statue of Nefertiti, probably from a souvenir market store. I have seen the picture of the famous statue now residing in Berlin, well simply put the alabaster statue definitely cannot justify her beauty. To make things worse, the old lady said that she had another one and pointing up to the top of a cabinet behind her. This Nefertiti head statue turned out to be black color , more like a head of the female mannequin from Macy's.

Eric and I picked the restaurant at the corner of Rt 9D and Rt 301, which is housed in a historical building dated in 1830's. I had the biggest burger in my life and nevertheless I finished it. In the restaurant, we met people from Boston. The owner of the restaurant spend quite some time to explain why he thought the building was built in 1850's, which was contradictory to what is said in the guide brochure.

For more about the history of Cold Spring, visit here.

I went inside the visible storage rooms last week for the Small Wonders exhibition in Brooklyn Museum. It took the place of the Japanese woodblock prints and the American artworks they influenced. It is an interesting idea that inside the Luce Center part of the visible storage will be devoted to temporary exhibitions.

Among these small wonders, there are objects in textiles, porcelains, flatware and ceramic tiles. Nudged by Eric, I noticed two objects came from the Ohio Valley where Eric and I had visited extensively in the past. One tile is from Zanesville, Ohio. Another tile was made in Beaver Falls, Penna. I immediately recalled vividly our visits to these two small places.

The trip to Zanesville was to fulfill the mission of finding a bird bath in the yard. Zanesville's historical fame and association with glass and ceramics could be seen through the antique malls lined along route 22. Another interesting observation that I have made was the abundant books by Thomas Mann published in 20's and 30's by Alfred Knopf. Not accidentally this was a period that many famous German exiled immigrates such as Mann or Schoenberg found their followers in the US. Their high culture root was praised and fostered all over the country. In particular Mann was regarded as a heritage culture authority and a champion of liberal and democratic values.

It was a smoldering day and we ended up buying a chunk concrete bird bath featuring a group of chubby angles which we sold later at half of the price before the move to Brooklyn. But the surprise of that trip came from the stop at Cambridge, Ohio where we found a nice art gallery in which we bought a painting by a local senior painter and a used-book store where I found the first edition of In Cold Blood for 15 dollars.

Beaver Falls is smaller. It is one of those dying river towns-- the scenery painted by George Hetzel more than 100 years ago, given away to mills and factories which subsequently died out with the declination of manufacturing sectors. When my ex-classmate moved from State College to Beaver Falls, they were told that they made the history to become the first Chinese residents of the town. "That grocery store owners took particular pride to see the influx of 'ALIEN' faces, but I am not sure he was friendly." My friend's father-in-law told me.

I have seen quite some good porcelains made in Beaver Falls. If I am correct, some of those president plates displayed in Hoyt Institute in New Castle, Penna were made in Beaver Falls. In fact, a lot of restaurants in western Pennsylvania had been using their porcelains for decades.

Besides the fact that Kittanning clay was used in the manufacturing process, I knew nothing about this particular porcelain made in Beaver Falls. Zanesville was more remote since I didn't have the chance to visit its downtown area. But they have laid such a deep impression that the images of the towns are just as clear as the figures on those tiles. In both cases, the objects remind me the flourish of the small river towns during the industrialization period. They once prospered, wealth collected, mansions or bigger houses built, even though what I have seen in the past does not necessarily prove that, or even worse shows the opposite.

There has always something special about those visits to these river towns, especially to someone like me, born and raised outside of US. It was a vivid revelation of American history that would never be put in any Chinese history textbook, yet those white old antique dealers sitting still in either once-to-be warehouses or Victorian family houses are quintessentially American. When I look back, those antique trips seem so remote in the lifestyle of New York where every minute of living must be justified by doing something profitable. The trips of antique shopping had a much slower pace than that that I took stepping out of the subway. Nine out of ten times the stores contained more junk (or in a better phrasing collectibles) than real antiques and 9.5 out of 10 times we ended up not buying, but driving around. But soaking in the stagnant air and surrounded by piles of stuff in an antique mall, one's life became meaningful by seeking and preserving the meaning of the past: The joy came from seeking while the happiness of preserving came like an unexpected trophy.

Sitting in the dimly lit living room, I was listening to Mahler again. And again this time was his second symphony. Simply put, maybe I am just too lazy to change the CD.

Mahler once said: My time will come. But Hans von Bulow, the life long friend of Johannas Brahms, after listening to Mahler playing Todtendeier (the first movement) in piano, said: 'If what I have heard is music, I understand nothing about music. Compared with this, Tristan is a Haydn symphony. At least, Bullow was partially right. While Wagner epitomized the 19th century's music in its grandeur and drama., Mahler opened the chapter of modern music not by adding too much to the existing music terminology but by broadening up what music yearns for. In other words, Mahler wrote his music in the conventional language of the 19th century yet with the mind to suit the 21th century audience.

His music is all about contrasts, which, unlike those stoned in Beethoven or Wagner, refuses to be simplified as a mean of rhetoric reasoning and instead projected the deepest emotions of human beings. The complexity of humans' minds and emotions of the 21th century cannot be categorized into a single mood or a single word: It is exactly the opposite, our sentimentality has welled up and grown vague at the same time. That rapid swings from contentment to fury or the juxtaposition of despair and tender are music reflections of humanity of modern times: wounded, distressed, defensive, anguished and occasional hysterical, all wrapping around the innocent purity of love, and all are echoed in Mahler's music.

Mahler programmed his second symphony with a long break (more than 5 minutes) after the first movement. Literally, the person is dead. It should be proceeded with silence. After about another 50 minutes, the spirit in the music rises again and returns in triumphs.

For a long time, the gigantic first movement is so rich and profound that it intimated me from continuing the journey. Last year in Cleveland I listened to the whole symphony and found the energy and passion that had been funneled in the end. Mahler's view of death and resurrection is universal. He believed in incarnation through purification which can be traced back more to Buddhism's nihilism than to Christianity. But if so, why such a person, who said he was not afraid of obliterate of past and memory as long as the incarnated spirit was purified, would bear such a tense fear of death that cast its permanent shadows on every of his symphonies?

Perhaps there is no easy answer. These days I have been reading Egyptian belief in immortality. The seemingly contradict between the fear of death by worshiping gods in splendid temple and the desire of entering paradise with funerals, offerings and stunning tombs showed that perhaps even in ancient Egypt ordinary people know the importance of grasping immediacy because the enjoyment of afterlife depends on the labor, treasure, reputation of the real world and thus may never materialize. In one of the ancient tombs archeologists even found a written essay from an anguish voice asking the meaning of revering the deceased. It pointed out that no one had seen any deceased ever come back to his world. All those offerings -- food, drink and daily little need are better off to be enjoyed NOW. The evidence of ancient Egyptians' uncertainty in afterworld is further proved by their peculiar emphasis on the levels of security of offerings to the deceased for his or her survival (such as real offerings, images hieroglyphs and model offerings).

Mahler probably felt the same predicament. He certainly loved the world even after the doctor prohibited him from hiking because of his heart problem. But the death surrounded his childhood had shown the cruelty of losing life, at least with respect to the impact of family members. He must begin to seek the meaning of life from witness the funerals of his siblings: If life will be short, how to make it meaning? For him, the belief that a purified spirit can stand up again blessed and re-energized is not a psychological relief that death will not annihilate the relations and traces of the current life, but instead is a inspirational force that drives him to work enthusiastically on the music that matters the most. In his own words, "that is why I have to live ethically, to spare my Self a part of the same road when it returns."

Listen to it.

Jason Busch, the Alan G. and Jane A. Lehman Curator of Decorative Arts, and Julie Emerson, Ruth J. Nutt Curator of Decorative Arts at the Seattle Art Museum will discuss exciting new ideas in the display of decorative arts and design. This evening event, presented by the Women’s Committee of Carnegie Museum of Art, will offer a sneak peek into the upcoming reinstallation of the decorative art galleries, opening in 2009. Past Meets Present: Innovative Installations of Decorative Arts
Thurs., Oct. 23, 6:00–8:00 p.m. CMA, Call 412.622.3325 to register. LINK

The October issue of The Magazine Antiques has an article on the atmospheric landscape painter George Harvey. Not usually attracted to the watercolor medium, I was drawn in by a scene of Flatbush from Greenwood cemetary in Brookly and a view of the Pennsylvania Canal at Holidaysburg. The works appear exceptional, and certainly are worthy of appreciation as art, rather than simply for their historical value. The works are on display at the New York Historical Society, however their web site says they have been temporarily removed due to construction delays. In the meantime, pick up a copy of The Magazine Antiques.

Not only will the museum be free on Saturday Oct 4, but also there are some rare opportunity to enjoy arts.

Here are two of my favorites:

Meet Gilbert and George for discussion with their artworks. "Just look", that was what Gilbert said. But the two are of  such amicable characters that talking to them will be enjoyable!

Curator guide

When curators talk about the collection, it is like some serious collectors talking about their best treasure except the passion is mixed with knowledge, insights or anecdotes. When Kevin or Barry talked about the decorative arts in one of the classes, they brought life to them. So don't miss such an opportunity to be led by the best curators through your own favorite galleries. 

More detail: 

Target First Saturdays