Magnificent Moons...

Sadly, in terms of quality this is a rather mangy set of photos with which to honour the full moon from the beginning of the month. Oh, to have a camera that would do justice to the beauty of the night sky! Nevertheless, the huge 'supermoon' glowing above was truly breathtaking and indeed bigger and brighter than any that I could recall, making the tree branches and Christmas decorations all the more striking.

The rather quizzical label 'Beaver Moon', is in fact to mark the activities of the creature in question, dating back to a time when the calendar was divided up according to the changes in Nature and annotated in the Old Farmer’s Almanac. Hence, the Beaver Moon finds its place along with the Buck, Wolf, Sturgeon and Worm variety, not to mention the Flower, Strawbery and Corn Moon, to name just a few. Appropriately, the Cold Moon at the beginning of December marks the start of the deep Winter... I love the glaringly obvious fact - yet somehow magical all the same - that the moon in all its varying stages is the same one that all our ancestors have gazed at since time immemorial, all over the world, in awe and wonder!

The Last Chrysanthemum

I always think that the French custom to mark Toussaint (All Saints’ Day) with chrysanthemums is rather bittersweet, as the flower seems intrinsically linked to a sense of loss, and the sadness which accompanies that. The beautiful autumnal colours of its blooms are likewise tinted, or tainted perhaps, with this same wistful essence, so much so that for many, the flowers have become somewhat mournful or morbid even, by association.

Certainly the chrysanthemum in its varied shapes and forms is sold widely across the country in the weeks leading up the end of October, to the point that the sight of all the flowers en masse leads to a fatigue which means that we fail to see the beauty inherent in each. And yet these beautiful, majestic flowers are works of art in themselves, and even more striking since they are one of the rare plants that bloom as autumn gradually prepares for winter.

The almost regal elegance and the purity of its understated beauty are surely the reasons why the chrysanthemum became an integral part of the cultural heritage of many Asian countries. Initially cultivated in China more than 3,000 years ago, it there took its place as one of the four symbolic plants; the Four Noble Ones (along with plum blossom, the orchid and bamboo). It is the national flower of China and is celebrated on the ninth day of the ninth lunar month – the Double Ninth Festival. Representing longevity and the ‘virtue to withstand all adversities’, and presumably offering this to those who partake of its health-giving properties through chrysanthemum wine and edible petals, the autumnal ‘flower of the ninth moon’ is valued for its medicinal benefits.

Despite that, the white or yellow flowers are frequently taken as a symbol of death and mourning in China and other Asian countries, much as the chrysanthemum in general is linked to such imagery in France. During the Heian period (794–1185), the ornamental chrysanthemum spread from China to Japan via Korea and the end of the 17th century saw Dutch merchants introducing the flower to Europe, and the rest is history, as they say!

In Japan, the chrysanthemum has been the emblem of the imperial family since the 12th century with the emperor’s crest symbolized by the 16-petalled flower whilst the flower motive adorns Japanese passports today. In Western culture, the flower marks the autumn equinox, a time of harvest and the fading of light and life itself. As one of the ‘short day’ plants, the chrysanthemum blooms when the number of hours of daylight are reduced, following the laws of photoperiodism as opposed to a direct sensitivity to temperature and sunlight. Not only does this apparently enable the plant to benefit from the unmitigated attentions of pollinators that are no longer distracted by ‘competition’ – the other nectar-providing flowers - but also allows it to use stored energy to maximise flower and seed production rather than a continued leaf growth.

Surely it was the mystery of such laws that led Thomas Hardy to write his poem The Last Chrysanthemum in awe and wonder at the functions of Nature that roll on, regardless of our human presence or intervention, controlled by a divine force – be that God (‘the Great Face behind’), natural forces or fate?

- The Last Chrysanthemum - Why should this flower delay so long.... To show its tremulous plumes? Now is the time of plaintive robin-song.... When flowers are in their tombs. Through the slow summer, when the sun.... Called to each frond and whorl.... That all he could for flowers was being done, Why did it not uncurl? It must have felt that fervid call.... Although it took no heed.... Waking but now, when leaves like corpses fall.... And saps all retrocede. Too late its beauty, lonely thing.... The season's shine is spent.... Nothing remains for it but shivering.... In tempests turbulent. Had it a reason for delay.... Dreaming in witlessness.... That for a bloom so delicately gay.... Winter would stay its stress? - I talk as if the thing were born.... With sense to work its mind; Yet it is but one mask of many worn By the Great Face behind.

Magical Mascarons... Bordeaux.

Despite the glaring sunlight and the soaring temperatures. I could not stop myself from squinting up at the incredible sculpted heads that gaze down from the grand facades in a city that is recognized as a world heritage site by the UNESCO; Bordeaux.

Although I was unaware of the fame of these illustrious 'têtes' on my visit, I learnt of their well-merited acclaim as symbols of the capital of the Gironde region regrettably only after the event. Had I known that they were such a 'thing' in Bordeaux, I would have observed them a little more methodically, rather than just taking shots at random.

In my ignorance, I simply enjoyed trying to spot these stone faces around the older parts of the city, and then admired the different expressions and accoutrements they bore.

The term 'mask' is commonly used in English to describe these sculpted works, however the French masque does not bear quite the same meaning and hence mascaron would be more appropriate. Indeed, originating in the Arabic word mascara and the Italian mascharone, the mascaron implies a'large grotesque mask' or 'buffoonery'.

Hence the mascaron would display exaggerated facial traits, contorted into comic or ridiculous expressions and grimaces yet its function was rather more serious - to act as a guardian to ward off evil forces and bad luck. Mascarons would therefore be placed above doorways, caves, grottos and fountains to keep at bay all that was undesirable.

In Bordeaux, many allegorical, fantastic or comic mascarons adorn the building facades, yet there are also figures from Ancient Greek mythology, identifiable by the symbolic attributes that accompany them, albeit less familiar to us today and this has resulted in the terms masque/mascaron becoming somewhat interchangeable.

Strictly speaking, however, masques would typically be situated above arcades or colonnades on grand buildings and would feature the divinities, the seasons and other more 'serious' themes compared to those of the mascarons.

Inspired by Greco-Latin Antiquity, certain Renaissance artists had used decorative heads in their own sculptural features and consequently during the reign of François 1er, Fontainebleau benefitted from this influence which then spread across France and Europe.

In Paris, some of the first masques were employed on the Hôtel Carnavalet in the mid 16th century and later on the Palais du Louvre.

The first heads appeared in Bordeaux in the 16th and 17th century but their greatest success was reserved for the Classical period when they were de rigueur to reflect the growing prosperity and status of the city.

Olympian gods are to be seen in the Bordelais streets; Minerva with her owl, Jupiter with his thunder, Bacchus with his- vine leaves, Neptune with his trident, Mercury and his caduceus... Much of Bordeaux's wealth and might came from its position as main royal port in France and second busiest port in the world after London.

During its golden age, the Port de la Lune was the vast trading hub, supplying Europe with its insatiable appetite for commodity staples such as wine, sugar, cocoa and coffee. Less glorious now was the city's trade in slaves, with Bordeaux holding the unenviable title as being the second largest French slave-trading city after Nantes. If you look carefully, you will notice black men and women heads looking down on you, as a nod to this past, whilst references to Bordeaux freemasons are also still visible.

When the 'Pearl of Aquitaine' was subsequently transformed by the grand urban redesign masterminded by the 'Haussmann bordelais' - Marquis de Tourny - the inclusion of masques/mascarons was imposed for the enhancement of the facades.

After the Revolution, the tenets of Neo-classicism led to a more sober approach to architectural embellishment and therefore the lavish extremes of Rococo style - including the masques and mascarons - fell out of favour.

Today, the exact number of these sculpted heads is not clear, and even less certain are the names of the artists responsible for their realisation, yet somehow that adds to their magic!