Song Without Words

Song Without Words, The Photograhs and Diaries of Countess Sophia Tolstoy, by Leah Bendavid-Val, is a fascinating book published by National Geographic, 2007. I loved it so much I got a copy for my little manor library, several years ago. This week, I pulled it off the shelf for a fresh browse. 

Sophia was the wife of the great Russian writer Leo Tolstoy. An extraordinary artist, in her own right, she was an innovative photographer in a day when photography was all quite new. Between 1885 and 1910, she made over a thousand photographs representing her world. Her diary is a detailed journal of her intimate reflections on life, art, politics, and her rocky marriage to a literary giant.

If you like history, art, photography or all things Russian, like I do, you will not be disappointed. The Countess takes you straight back to life in pre-revolutionary Russia, with her fascinating intimate journals and photos. 

Photo below: Sophia and Lev Tolstoy, with their son Mikhail, on the porch at Yasnaya Polyana, 1898.

trapped in amber

Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment.  
There is no why. 

―Kurt Vonnegut

I have a thing for stones and bones, and I like to think it might be from my Native American DNA. One of my favorites is amber, petrified tree resin, prized for its natural beauty since Neolithic times.  Amber has been around forever as jewelry, but did you know since it is a resin, it can be melted down and is used as an ingredient in perfumes, and a healing agent in folk medicine?

One aspect I like most about amber, is since it started out as tree resin, many pieces have a bit of fossilized flora or fauna embedded inside.  Little lacy seed pods are encased in my amber earring, just like a time capsule, millions of years old.

About 90 percent of the world's extractable amber is found in Kaliningrad Oblast of Russia on the Baltic Sea.  Pieces are amber are torn from the seafloor, washed ashore by waves, collected by hand, dredging or diving.  Shades of amber range from almost clear to nearly black, the transparent pieces being the most prized.

click to embiggen

old-school spy

Have you been following the story about the Russian spy, Anna Chapman? It's old-school spy stuff, just like out of a Bond movie. She's a beautiful 28 year old divorcee, who has been living it up in New York, allegedly running an online real estate company worth $2 million.

She was instructed to hold a magazine a certain way to signal the other spy to initiate contact.

Following are among the phrases used by the alleged agents, their handlers and, deceptively, by U.S. counter-espionage officials in exchanges designed to verify the contact's identity.

"Excuse me, but haven't we met in California last summer?"

"No, I think it was the Hamptons."

"Could we have met in Beijing in 2004?"

"Yes, we might have, but I believe it was in Harbin"

"Excuse me, did we meet in Bangkok in April last year?."

"I don't know about April, but I was in Thailand in May of that year."

Chapman was arrested before her mission was complete.

(Gosh, they didn't even use my personal favorite code phrase, "the green grass grows all around, all around".)

Beginning as early as 2000, the accused spies were watched meeting on benches in Central Park and Brooklyn, plotting in a Queens restaurant, exchanging computer files wirelessly in a Times Square Starbucks, smoothly switching bags in the Forest Hills, Queens, Long Island Rail Road station and burying money in the ground upstate.

The old-school cloak and dagger techniques are still successful in the spy world. The top five espionage technologies that are still very much in use are invisible ink, shortwave radio, burst transmissions (a subset of radio transmissions), number stations (a broadcast of seemingly meaningless number sequences), and transposition ciphers (codes that systematically scramble the order of letters in a message).

the last station

Last weekend, we went to the Drexel, a little art house theater in Bexley, and saw a matinee showing of The Last Station. I have not read Jay Prini's semi-factual novel about the last year in the life of the great 19th century Russian writer Leo Tolstoy, from which this film was adapted. But, I was completely mesmerized by Leah Bendavid-Val's Song Without Words, The Photographs & Diaries of Countess Sophia Tolstoy, and actually own a copy.

Leo Tolstoy is quite the giant in the literary world, but I must admit, I am more fascinated with his wife, the Countess Sophia Tolstoy, and was very much looking forward to seeing Helen Mirren in the role. The Countess was a deeply religious and traditional wife, but she was also daringly rebellious and remarkably modern. Mirren was perfectly cast as the feisty Sophia, not only because she is a powerful actor, but because she herself was born Ilyena Vasilievna Mironov, her father being of Russian descent. I was, however, a bit disappointed that the Countess, as an artist, was not brought out in the film, since she was a fabulous photograher in her own right, at a time when the art was relatively new.

Christopher Plummer is terrific in the role of Tolstoy. The cast also includes Paul Giamatti as Vladimir Chertkov, Tolstoy's aide and James McAvoy as his new young secretary. Each actor looks amazingly like the actual people they portray. The film focuses on the last few turbulent months of Tolstoy's life, and the struggle between he and the countess over changing his will, to prevent her from receiving the royalties from his books. Although this movie lacks the emotional punch I was hoping for, it is still beautifully put together, along with stellar performances by all. You know how nutty I am for all things Russian. I absolutely devoured every lovely detailed scene.

Sofia Tolstoy, self portrait with Anna Maslova, July 13, 1898

old world meets new

I like to make this elegant, yet earthy little supper in early spring, just after the coldest of winter has passed, but before the arrival of warm breezes, and after I've tucked my Zhivago hat away for the season. It conjurs thoughts of all things romanticly Old World and Russian. Tell me if this little goody doesn't become one of your favorites, as well.

Salmon Pirog

dough:

3 cups flour

1 tsp salt

3/4 cup unsalted butter

1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice

4-6 Tbsp ice water

2 Tbsp canola oil

1/2 small head green cabbage finely shredded

2 Tbsp minced fresh flat leaf parsley, or 1 tsp dry

4 tsp minced fresh dill, or 2 tsp dry

salt and pepper to taste

3/4 lb fresh mushrooms, sliced thin

3/4 cup finely chopped onion

1 1/2 pound salmon fillet or four small, thin fillets

1 egg

1 cup cooked long grain white rice

1/2 cup sour cream

Use the top set of ingredients to make pastry dough. You know the scoop. Cut in the butter and then add the water until it forms a ball. Yada yada yada. Divide in half. Refrigerate.

Saute cabbage and 2 Tbsp water until tender. Stir in 1 Tbsp parsley with 1 tsp dill weed, and season with salt and pepper. Transfer to bowl. In same pan, saute the onion and mushrooms in canola oil until tender and liquid is evaporated. Season with salt and pepper, 1 tsp dill and 1 Tbsp parsley.

On lightly floured surface, roll out one ball of dough into a rectangle 10 x 14 inches. Cut dough lengthwise and crosswise making 4 small rectangles. Brush with egg wash (egg + 1 Tbsp water, dash salt). Spread 1/4 rice on each rectangle, leaving 1 inch border around edges of the dough. Do the same with the cabbage, over the rice, in a thin layer. Cut and arrange raw salmon over the cabbage layer. Season lightly with salt and pepper. Lastly, spread the mushroom layer over the salmon.

Roll the second ball of dough just like the first, cutting into 4 rectangles. Lay these over the fillings, lining up edges, stretching if necessary. Pinch edges to seal. Brush top with egg wash. Cut vents in top. Bake 375 on ungreased baking sheet for 20 to 25 minutes. Serve with sour cream, mixed with 2 tsp dill.

in political

Some years back, WT was working on a Russian project. One day,
he got a call from one of principles of the company, telling him in
broken English that the deal was on hold. "We are in political," he
said. That's all. Just political. I can't think of a better way to sum up
the state of things. Seems we humans are always "in political".

Last week, Leah, of The Weather in the Streets, wrote an impressive
post, listing exactly where she stood politically on most of the current
issues. I admired, and actually felt a bit envious, of her candor and
confidence. Her post made me stop and wonder why, exactly, do I
steer clear of most political discussions. My eyes cross and I
invariably leave the room. I am never in political.

As I recently watched Ken Burns' The Civil War, I found myself
feeling sympathetic for both the North and the South during the
course of the documentary. My Libra scales tilt to one side, then the
other. I can often see both sides of an issue. There are times, when
there's no question, and I see totally black and white. But, for me,
many issues are gray. The scales go nuts. Maybe this is why decision
making for Libras can be so difficult. We can be sympathetic to a fault.

Before the last presidential election, I was accused in the comment
forum of one particular blog of being a "fence straddler". Well,
maybe I am. I see both sides. I like to weigh all the elements, and
when I finally do make a decision, hopefully it's a good one, now that
I'm older, and I like to think, a bit wiser. And you know what?
Sometimes, I still can't decide.

Speaking of things Russian, and civil war, the kooky photo above
is me in my Budenovka, a hat that was an essential part of the
communist uniform of the Russian Civil War. Its official name was
the "broadcloth helmet", named after Semyon Budyonny, and also
known as the "frunzenka" after Mikhail Frunze. Soft and woolly, it
covers the ears and neck, it can be worn alone or under a helmet.
It was created as part of a new uniform for the Russian army by
Viktor Vasnetsov, a famous Russian painter, who was inspired by
the Kiev Rus helmet. It reminds me of a quirky Russian version of
the Tin Man. Don't worry. I don't usually wear this one out and
about.

I happen to love this painting by Vasnetsov called "Samolet",

depicting Ivan, of Russian folklore, riding his magic carpet

to a place where there's no political, no fences.

Willow's Weekly Word

Russian Queen of Clubs, Willow's collection

Poker is a big deal here at the Manor. Even before its recent rise in worldwide popularity, we have always played in on holidays and special occasions when the kids were growing up. All the participants must wear a silly hat, which adds to the ambiance, and it is extra fun because we play with a gigantic stack of old, pre-1989 Polish zlotys. We played it here on July 4th, but it was a tad too warm for the crazy hats!

So, how did this card game come to be called poker? Well, it's German in origin and came from German word pochen,which means to brag or to knock. Funny, because this knock is still used today to show that a player is passing on his bet and also quite a bit of bragging is involved among the players! The name seems to have originated into the United States from New Orleans, due to its similarity to the French game of poque. Southern gentlemen, in their

genteel drawl would pronounce it pok-uh. So, there you have it.