My Neighbor Across The Hall

photo / Candance diCalvo / U of P  Almanac

Some years ago, while renting a studio apartment

on a lower floor, my neighbors across the hall were a

dignified elderly Chinese gentleman and his wife.

At first, we would nod to each other while waiting 

for elevators. Then one day the old Gentleman had a 
large envelope bearing big colorful foreign stamps. 
I asked if they were Chinese. He said they were Russian. 

I told him I had been to Russia some years before

and had family there. Next thing I knew, the Russian

stamps on their envelope had been slid under my door.

A gift from my new friend.

I learned from others, that the Gentleman was 

a renowned Emeritus Professor retired from the 

University of Pennsylvania. We all found out

just how renowned, when the President of

China at that time, who was in the US on a

state visit, arranged to stop in to see my special

neighbor and his wife. He was a former student
of the old Professor. That afternoon this building 
was cordoned off and crawling with Secret Service 
and Chinese security agents. Everyone had to

stay wherever they were, inside or outside for the

duration. 

Before coming to America, I heard that the Professor 
had been an aide to General Chaing Kai Shek.

And once I asked him where he was when WWII

ended. He told me Shanghai. 

By now when we met in the hall by the elevator

or in the lobby, me going for mail, he reading his

Chinese newspaper, he would smile, sometimes 

wink and with a twinkle in his eye, tap his cheek 
for a peck.

I was always happy to comply.

In the end, the old couple's children moved them

out west, closer to their homes and families.

Today, thinking about him and his sweet quietly 
smiling wife.
Wondering if there might be a picture and further
information online, I discovered both. 
And that he had passed away at 99 in September 2002.


http://www.upenn.edu/almanac/v49/n05/deaths.html

http://www.upenn.edu/pennnews/current/node/960

Royal Weddings 101

click on images to enlarge


Part I: PLANTING THE SEEDS
My paternal grandmother and/or aunts were 
always going to England and back on 
big ocean liners when I was a child.
We have family there.
(My maternal grandmother, born in London, 
always said she'd only go back when they 
built a bridge). 

Her mother, my Great grandmother, 
told me she saw Queen Victoria riding 
in a carriage during her Diamond 
Jubilee celebrations in London (1896).
Then there was the Coronation of Queen
Elizabeth II. Pomp and circumstance,
red velvet, ermine, diamonds and gold
(in black and white). Also newsreels at the 
movies showing the great crowds gathered
in front of Buckingham Palace at the end 
of WWII.
By Princess Margaret's wedding in 1960, 
My brain was bursting with the lives, legends 
and lore of Tudors, Stuarts, Hanovarians and 
Windsors and working on the Plantagenets.
Figuring, 4 years college, then a job and 
saving money, I promised myself a trip to 
London when Prince Charles married.

By the time he  decided on Lady Diana Spencer, 
I had already been to London several times
and followed the Queen and Prince Philip around
Philadelphia in 1976 during our bicentennial.
My reward, a brief exchange with HRH The Duke
of Edinburgh in a royal walkabout behind
Independence Hall. (More of this on a future post.)

Part: II  I'M OFF
My English friends Rosalind and Rob welcomed 
me with open arms and the news that if I intended 
to have a good spot along the procession route, 
I'd be spending the night before in St James' Park 
and should be there by early afternoon at that.

Dear Ros packed some sandwiches, a thermos of 
coffee and a pint of orange juice and took this 
picture of me (above) when we got to the Mall. 
Then I took one of her, her daughter Fiona (white 
and red dress) and Fiona's friend Caroline (lavender 
dress) and they left.

I was just across the street from Clarence House on 

the Mall where Diana was staying, as I had planned.
The crowd grew. Rented one of the wood and canvas 
deck chairs available for something like 65p for the 
duration. (which ended abruptly at 6AM next 
morning with 4 hours to go until the procession)

But I digress. 

As the afternoon wore on a potentially serious 

problem arose. Only one public loo at the far 

end of the park in the direction of the Admiralty 

Arch. And it was already very much out of service. 

Anyone who knows the area understands. No place 

to go, literally. One side, park. Other side, Clarence 

House, Marlboro House, Lancaster House, St James'

Palace. Private closed to the public, Mansions and 

Palace.

The sun went down. Most folks lit out for Hyde

Park fireworks, leaving their belongings

in the care of the few like myself who remained. 

(Listen, I wouldn't have even been there if "there" 

was HERE!) And it was 30 years ago.

Shortly after sun up. we lost our deck chairs.

Tired, grubby, needing a loo, all moved

forward. We all were keeping each other upright. 

Won't bore you with the details of street sweeping

and lining the Mall with bearskin hatted guards

(facing in), police between (facing us). A guard

fainted and was instantly replaced. 

Somewhere around 10AM the procession began.

Scarlet, gold and black. On foot, on horseback,
shiny plumed helmets, sabers and boots. Warm day
for the wool jackets laden with gold braid.

Managed to snap Princess Anne (yellow hat) 

riding with Princess Margaret (orange feather 

behind yellow hat).

Not sure who this was, possibly Queen Beatrix 

of the Netherlands. It was all whizzing by so quickly.

(And I'm really needing a LOO).

The bride's coach came towards me, turning

left into the Mall. Amid clouds of cream silk a

beautiful veiled face and a waving hand and

gone down the road. And it was over.

As for the ceremony, heard Diana take "Philip 

Charles Arthur George" to be her lawful wedded 

husband on some one's transister radio, but that was

all. 

I would have given MY kingdom for a "ladies", but I 

moved up to the Buckingham Palace gates instead. 

I'd come this far. Seemed like hours before the

carriages returned and the main players came out on 

the balcony. I did my best with my pathetic telephoto

lens. But that balcony is miles from the back gates.

(The back of BP faces the Mall. The front faces

the gardens).

The wisdom of my having chosen Illustration 

over Photography as my life's work demonstrated

for all to see.

In this detail from a photo in Invitation to a Royal 

Wedding, by Katharine Spink, the yellow arrow on 

the lower left near the center is point down on the 

top of my head.

Part:III CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED

So, for those inclined to fly over and watch it all

in person, unless you have received an engraved

invitation for the Abbey be prepared as there are 

no loos, or port-a-potties of any kind anywhere near 

the route of the procession.

Hard to believe in England, a country of great beer 

consumption. But then again, the crowd 30 years ago, 

mostly foreigners. Aussies, New Zealanders, Canadians, 

Americans. Anglophile fools like me. And I think

the natives know about the loo situation.

PS: Immediately after the balcony scene, I headed down 

Birdcage Walk (on the right side of St James Park,

if your back is to the Palace).

Found an open restaurant, with a clean loo. 

Then headed back to Ros and Rob's.

Opening the door to my disheveled self, Rob commented

"In retrospect, you will be glad you did this."

Turns out, he was right.

But I will be watching this year's Royal Wedding from

my comfortable bed just across the hall from my lovely 

precious loo.

Buon Compleanno, Maestro Innocenti

The Master Italian Illustrator Roberto Innocenti celebrates his 70th birthday today. 

Things with wheels never attracted me until I came 
upon SAILS, RAILS and WINGS that Golden Books 
published in 1978. Roberto Innocenti's fine detailed 
drawings, watercolor technique, color and humor 
captured my artist's heart. 

Took me until his ROSE BLANCHE to discover 
Roberto Innocenti is Italian, self taught and living 
and working in Florence. I wrote him an unabashed 
fan letter, in English. (apologizing for not knowing 
Italian and having only a remnant of high school 
French) To my delight, he answered in French and 
included a delightful drawing of a guy driving a 
pickup truck with a plumbing fixture and ladders in back!

©Roberto Innocenti

Next time I was in Florence, he invited me to his studio. I was greeted by a tall bearded man with a kindly bemused smile. We talked shop in French (he fluent, me pathetic) and the language we both understand, working book illustrator.

 in his studio, photo Grafis Edizioni 1991
He showed me exquisite original work, including pieces 
from SAILS RAILS and WINGS. It was my birthday 
and he insisted I accept his original of the Pilgrims 

landing at Plymouth. A beloved treasure, now framed 
and hung in a place of honor where it reminds me 
daily of its generous brilliant creator. The next day we 
drove to the town of Citta di Castello in Umbria to see a 
breathtaking retrospective of his work.

Then back to Florence for a delightful dinner with his charming wife and daughter.

All so kind and patient to put up with their linguistically challenged guest who only began Italian lessons upon returning home. My idea of a splendid time.

Grazie tante alla famiglia di Roberto Innocenti. 

(Spero che abbiate recuperato ormai.)    ;-)

Roberto Innocenti self-portrait eating pasta from THE LAST RESORT, by J. Patrick Lewis,

        Creative Editions

BUON COMPLEANNO , Maestro Roberto! 

Con i miei auguri!

(click on images to enlarge)

Link:  http://www.robertoinnocenti.com/

Il Famoso Ignoto

Went to Naples, Italy to see the 
antique presepi figures in the 
Museo di San Martino. 

Un presepe is a nativity scene. In Naples, the 
presepi take on operatic proportions. 

Not surprising. Naples is home to 
the oldest opera house in Italy, 
il Teatro San Carlo, built in 1737.
Many of these elaborate displays belonged 
to wealthy aristocrats. Some to churches.

In the museum, one glass case after another 
of exquisitely crafted, costumed and detailed 
miniature objects, animals and figures 
depicting all aspects of life in old Italy in 
miniatura.

Clay, wood, silk, wool, silver, copper, brass 

and jewels worked with extraordinary skill, 

keen observation, great wit and humanity. 

My costume, doll, folkart and miniatures 

loving heart nearly leapt from my chest.

Only problem, no photo taking permitted
nor was there a museum shop with postcards 
and books. 

Many quick sketches and much note taking. 
One artist, Ignoto, seemed most prevalent.
Not only did Ignoto seem to have made 
almost everything, I soon realized he was 
active for several centuries....
With only 6 years of Italian language study
behind me, it suddenly dawned....
Ignoto, Italian for Anonymous. ;-)

(click on images to enlarge)

                              
PS
Without these two beautiful books, there would be no images to show you.
       Il Presepe Napolitano, by Allessandra Griffo, De Agostini 1996
      Il Presepe Napoletano del Settecento, Electa Napoli 1995

Happy 75th Birthday, Tomie

Tomie dePaola in Ravenna 1984, ©ccroll

 With hugs and love, XXXXX and purrs, 

Carolyn, Tizzy and Fred

Class Act

Carolina e Tomasso a Roma 1984

Hard to believe its been 25 years since

Tomie De Paola led that gruppo to Italy 

and the Bologna Book Fair.

My idol from the moment I "discovered"

Strega Nona at a school book fair where 

Jane Flory and I were speaking years ago. 

Still skint from a trip to Russia, I signed on. 

Couldn't pass up the chance to see Italy,

visit the Bologna Book Fair and possibly

chat with Tomie a time or two. (I knew

he'd never do it again.)

We all met at JFK. Soon Tomie appeared, 

greeting each individually. 

My turn.

I held out my hand, reminding him that

we had met briefly before at the Free 

Library in Philadelphia.

Tomie responded that he had something for me.

(Perhaps, the signed copy of his St Francis?

An expected souvenir for signing on)

From his pouch,  a copy of my Too Many Babas.

"May I have your autograph?", he asked.

Still gives me a lump in my throat.

Tomorrow is Tomie De Paola's 75th birthday.

Buon Compleanno, carissimo Tomassino!!

Con amore, abbraci e baci.

Carolina di Filli