Oh, We Know What It Means...

Matt and I have been feeling the itch lately, and realized it was high time we visited New Orleans again. This time around, we were infinitely blessed to meet up with my brother, Christian, and my oldest/dearest friend, Tony. As well, it was only natural that we should meet up with the much-lauded celebrity of this blog (as well as the outside world) - George Schmidt!

A large part of our visit centered around the opening of his show at the University of Louisiana Hilliard Art Museum: "Satire, Scandal and Spectacle". This unforgettable evening found us, along with a group of George's fans, models, family and friends, on a bus trip to Lafayette for the show. Along the way we enjoyed the beauty of the Cajun region, a stop in Franklin, a boxed dinner and more - and the show itself was incredibly inspiring, uplifting and filled with the human side of history. The exhibit featured his larger works, centering around the history of Louisiana - Roman law, Jean Lafitte, Storyville, Mardi Gras and political events were only the beginning. His work is incomparable, and only part of what makes George a very special man.
A group photo after the trip, including Tony (next to me), Christian (next to Tony), and Patty Gay. Patty is George's wonderful wife, who we finally got to spend a good deal of quality time with. A true leader in the fight for historic preservation, and a truly endearing woman. What the modern lingo would term a "Power Couple".

Another photo from the bus ride - George had brought along a gifted banjo player for the ride, and Matt joined in on the accordion. Everything from ragtime to German waltzes to traditional jazz was played - I only wish I remember what song was being sung, here!

Finally, two treats from our first night visiting. As usual, we spent some time in the garden at George's studio, trading jokes, chatting on history, listening and learning... the constant highlight of our New Orleans journeys. After a proffered voodoo lily was planted among the jasmine and angel's wings, we headed upstairs, where wine and cheese were served. An honor, to be sure... and eventually Matt found his way to the piano, and played a few tunes.

True, there are myriad other things to do in New Orleans - and we do indulge in them. In such a city that never stops giving and giving, we are more than happy to eat to excess, drink perhaps a bit too much, feast our eyes on the beauty of endless architectural wonders, soak in the unbelievably historic depths of the place... embrace all that we are able to in a short time. But invariably, we find our way back to Julia Street, to laugh, think, reflect and learn - be inspired - by one of our world's great living artists, and a family that champions history and culture. As an illustrator, I inevitably find renewed inspiration, increased respect for my gift, and a better sense of responsibility to keep creating - strength in quality, as well as quantity. I told George that I see him as an adopted uncle, to which he replied, "Good lord! Who'd want me in the family?!" I could certainly do worse!

If At First You Don't Succeed...

Welcome back, friends! It's Oktoberfest season, and do I ever have an appropriate entry this evening. Matt's Czech polka band, the Royal Klobasneks, are in full two-beat swing this time of year - what better excuse for a new costuming post? Despite the current leaning toward polkas, sausage, beer and festivity, my thoughts have been focused almost entirely on sewing... and my ongoing longing for a dirndl.

Now, I should explain tonight's title. About a year ago I had attempted, via a Butterick costume pattern, a "stand-in" dirndl - a basic Renaissance bodice and full skirt, complete with boning and a fully-laced front closure. It wasn't a great success - binding in the chest, and downright uncomfortable. The main complaint was that it didn't perform like an Austrian dirndl - in other words, it didn't slope off at the breast level, and rise to create the traditional shelf at the center. I salvaged the skirt, but the bodice was a wash.

This season, I decided to take the bull by the horns, and do this project correctly. I can't imagine how many hours I spent researching dirndls - their silhouette, tradition, history and, most importantly, construction. Initially I turned to Folkwear, hoping that their dirndl pattern would do - but was disappointed with the results otherwise skilled sewers had come up with. Worse yet, the pattern involves a dart at the armpit - a serious no-no, unseen in authentic examples. I decided to utilize Folkwear for the blouse, skirt and apron patterns - but the bodice would have to be engineered on my dress form, from start to finish. First of all, two photos of the finished garment, to show the overall silhouette I was aiming for...

The bodice is the main element I'll be talking about here, but I'm very happy with the overall design. Before I delve further into the construction details, I'll mention that the fabric is a remarkable cotton I found at Joann's - I didn't pre-wash, preferring to retain color and clarity at the expense of dry-cleaning. The apron is a quilting cotton, and the blouse is simple white cotton, with soft blue polka dots - trimmed with eyelet. My socks are German, as well as my Tyrolean hat (a gift from Matt).

Now on to the guts of the thing. Adjusting my dress form a size or so downward, I used pins to delineate the curved edges of my bodice, along with the curved back seams, and subtle front seams. While making a muslin dummy I discovered that most of the shelving up front happens at those two front seams, only several inches from the center - there's the slightest bit of give as the join reaches the top, just near the widest part of the chest. Here's a close-up, showing that tiny outward curve...

As well, the interior of the front and center, lined with alternating hooks and eyes. This is a trick I learned from studying and collecting Victorian-era garments - regardless of how the wearer moves, the closure won't give. Many dirndls utilize a heavy zipper for this front closure, but I wanted the fabric design to match up perfectly when brought together. Another interesting point regarding the closure has to do with the structure - while I usually turn to featherweight boning for milder bodice work, this time around I needed something stronger. I frankly didn't want to bother with steel boning - I wasn't completely sure of the length I would need, and had no desire to spend a large-ish amount of funds guessing. I read on a sewing blog (I wish I could remember which!) the perfect item for such a job - heavy duty cable ties. I bought a bag of duct-strength plastic ties, and cut two down to suit the final length. I then sealed the cut ends with electrical tape, so there would be no cutting through the fabric, a typical problem with boning. The result is fantastic, and will be repeated in future corsetry projects.

This photo brings up two neat points - the quilting of the inner and outer materials, and use of bias tape. I lined my dirndl bodice with duck-cloth, to reduce the stress overall, and absorb perspiration. To reduce the separation between the two, I quilted the fabrics together - a detail is shown below. As well, I used bias tape to seal up the seams inside - this is an old practice that I tend to use in corsetry and Victorian costuming. Outside of the center closure, there is no boning in the dirndl - so much depends on the seam placement and "give". The photo below was taken after two days of wear, and shows the stress points along the back seams...

A flower in the print, showing the quilting method I used...

Matt and I together, with a somewhat skewed blend of smiling (him) and staunch (me)! The bodice is finished with cotton cording throughout the seams and edges, a conservative substitute for the often elaborate trims that grace many dirndls. The apron features a new technique to me, shirring - rows of small gathers along the top edge, just beneath the tie. I did this on my machine, using a zig-zag stitch and buttonhole twist thread - the bottom of the apron has horizontal pleats and machine embroidery. Underneath it all, the hem is reinforced with crinoline, and I'm wearing eyelet-trimmed, seersucker drawers - patterned directly from a pair dating from the early 1900s. As I'm (very happily!) married, my apron is tied on the left.

I'll admit that this was initially one of the more intimidating projects I've tackled - I wanted to do justice to the dirndl, and find that balance of comfort, while flirting with constriction. Although I could have purchased a ready-made piece, I wanted the fit to be perfect - no gaps, no heavy binding... and without need of alteration. Our good friend Valina (who, with her husband Ross, perform as "Das ist Lustig!") helped me move forward on the home-made route - her mother makes her performance dirndls, unhappy with the modern ready-made examples. Her construction advice was most useful, and gave me the courage to invest in the needed materials and Do Something. I'm thrilled with the results, and look forward to more Royal Klobasneks shows this season, and in the years ahead.

To you all, Ein Prosit der Gemutlichkeit!

Engaged, Married, Thrilled!

Time has passed since my last entry, but so much has happened! With a joyous wedding having taken place, I can now return to my blog - a happy, refreshed, marvelously married woman. I also want to take this opportunity to feature a few of the engagement photos that our dear friend Brittany Oswald took, just a week before the wedding - Matt and I couldn't be more thrilled. But first, the nuptials...


Matt and I were married on June 12, at the Unity Church on Greenville Avenue. The ceremony was officiated by Matt's youth minister, Andy Stoker - he was wonderful. Surrounded by our loved ones, and accompanied by our closest friends and family in the wedding party, the event was incredibly beautiful. And now for the creative, blog-focused aspect of the wedding - the gown!


As I mentioned in an earlier post, I was miraculously fortunate enough to acquire exquisite materials for the gown - silk duchesse satin, crepe and impeccable soutache lace went into the construction. The pattern itself is an alteration of a late 1990s Simplicity costume design, based on the film "Titanic" - the piece is affectionately called the "swim dress". The veiling tulle arrived the morning of the wedding - I whipped up a piece immediately. Although you cannot see it well here, the headpiece is a band of petersham ribbon, trimmed with vintage earrings and nazar boncuk charms.


The gown is a bit more visible here - you can also see more of the bodice front, finished with my late mother's antique cameo. Matt's handsome, circa 1938 tailcoat tuxedo is just marvelous - our dear friend Robert stands to my left. He provided the ragtime selections for our ceremony, and the exquisite lilies I carried down the aisle. I was lucky enough to find the perfect satin heels at David's Bridal - I had them dyed to match the gown, and finished them with petersham ribbons (ideal for fox trotting). I'm very proud of this piece - the hand-finishing through the lining is wonderful, and the fit is perfect. Just enough of an architectural nature to shape the body into that ideal, late Edwardian silhouette.




And now back in time, to see the engagement photos! Brittany Oswald is a deeply gifted photographer, and her sense of aesthetic came into full play with our shoot. We started out in Oak Cliff, a Dallas neighborhood - a lakeside park served us perfectly. We brought along our own props - as you can see, our love of vintage musical instruments, phonographs, antiques and ephemera tends to follow us around! Despite the simmering Texas heat, we had a great time in the park... Brittany had us laughing (and spooning) to beat the band...



Funny enough, until now I had forgotten that this dress is one I made two years ago. A Vintage Vogue reprint of a 1950s pattern, in white eyelet - one of my favorites. And now to the next location, Curiosities - an eclectic antique shop in the Lakewood neighborhood!



We changed beforehand - Matt into his 1920s beltback suit, and I into my walkaway dress (another one made at home). In this environment, we wanted a truly Technicolor experience, and we surely achieved that!



The above shot was initially unexpected - I had bumped into the corset just before, and in my enthusiasm, tried it on. Brittany hopped in as Matt lifted his cuff to show off his garters (an enormous weakness of mine) - and I lifted my skirt in a sense of unity. A power couple? You tell us.


I'll include the last photo - in fact a completely candid one, taken at Campisi's, a local Italian restaurant. This was between locations, giving us a chance to cool down and have a nibble. Matt did exactly that, and Brittany caught the moment.



He is an utterly wonderful man, and such a joy to be married to. Here's to an enchanting life together! And, for good measure - a photo of us, at the Singapore Slingers performance that took place three days after the wedding. Matt's playing "Mariutch" on the Baldoni accordion, and I'm doing a hootchy-kootchy dance, while wearing a circa 1912 bathing suit, and early 1930s egret fascinator. Such a beautiful life...

The Home Stretch!

At last, Matt and I are pleased to announce the newest member of the Tolentino family! As dyed-in-the-wool independent artists, we refer, of course, to the new Singapore Slingers CD, "When Summer is Gone". The album features a marvelous collection of works dating from the late 1800s to the 1930s - the orchestra sounds superb, and I'm awfully proud of the cover art:


As it happened, Matt and I both had this image in mind before discussing the matter - a like-minded couple, to be sure. While I've seen my work on many types of publications/media, this is my first album cover, and I couldn't be more pleased that it's Matt's first industry-standard CD.


And so, on to our news from New Orleans! Although the real reason for our road trip was for Matt to play at two gigs in Florida, our souls were thrilling for weeks beforehand - not only to see New Orleans, but to meet Matt's oriental foxtrot idol, George Schmidt. As a founding member of the New Leviathan Oriental Foxtrot Orchestra (PLEASE look them up, their work is exquisite), Mr. Schmidt would surely have so much to share about music history, the character of his city, as well as art - he's also a wonderful historic painter.

We had no idea how delightfully enthusiastic, creative, and hilariously wacky George would end up. We were blessed with several audiences at his Julia Street gallery, talking about nearly everything under the sun - the aforementioned music, history and art - but included too were good cocktails, fine foods, embroidered underwear, public reactions to the orchestra's often politically-incorrect tunes, the importance of "educated amusement" (George considers himself the "Adolf Hitler of fun"), the woeful lack of nitrous oxide in modern dentistry... and, well, myriad other subjects. We were also treated to a sneak preview of the orchestra's upcoming CD - a joyful and surreal moment, in that our own album was still on the presses, being manufactured. At our final visit, Matt brought along his Petosa, and serenaded George with favorite rags and foxtrots. Jack Stewart, a fellow NLOFTO member, stopped in to watch the shenanigans. George sang "Palesteena" as Matt played - a photo will have to stand in, until I can upload the clip:


It's doubtful I've seen anyone sing with such animation - this is a man with a great sense of passion for life. In retrospect, I can see why I immediately had such a fondness for George - he reminds me deeply of my late father, who was full of wonderful stories, endless humor and joy. George treated us to several of the orchestra's albums, and I promised a good handful of voodoo lilies for the courtyard garden behind the gallery, as well as a more personalized gift. I'll be making a sheik's robe for Matt after the wedding, and offered to create one for George, too - he was thrilled, of course. In all, New Orleans was incredible - and I promise to write a blog about its uplifting, creative energy. But on to other matters!


Over the next two weeks, I'll be in garment heaven - I've at last found the materials for my wedding gown. And how. Yesterday brought news both positive and negative - one of the only fine fabric stores in town closed its doors for good, after 40 years in business. An upsetting loss, as it becomes more and more difficult to find couture-grade materials... but there was a silver lining. I managed to pick up scintillating duchesse satin, crepe and lace for my wedding gown - there wouldn't have been the slightest possibility of my doing so at retail cost. Everything in the store was 90% off, so Matt and I went a little crazy, snapping up yardage for future use. But what excites me at the moment is that I can push ahead with my gown... and it will be even more beautiful in its ragtime-era simplicity than I had ever expected. The lace alone, shown above, makes me melt...

So if I lag a little, it's because our wedding is less than three weeks off, and we are in the Home Stretch! However, I'll do what I can to post that clip of Matt and George - it's WELL worth viewing. If I don't hop by beforehand, look for engagement/wedding photos in a few weeks - I'll be posting them here!

A Voice from the East...

Although my time is limited, I've stopped by to post a brief update from the road. Currently in Tampa, and soon to arrive in Orlando, I'm tagging along with Matt on a gig engagement. We were fortunate enough to stop in New Orleans along the way, enjoying the usual beignets and French Market coffee (as well as our favorite, the Ramos Gin Fizz) - but the focus of our stop there was to have an audience with George Schmidt, the almost indescribably ebullient painter and musician... a true character we'd been wanting to meet with for a good, long while. After our business here in Florida, we will be making a return stop in NO, to enjoy the city's amazing beauty and character... as well, of course, to see Mr. Schmidt once again before heading back to Dallas.

Updates to come - I'm infinitely excited to see how the energy of New Orleans influences my work. I have some awfully wacky ideas in the mix, to say the least...

Lagomorphs and Landscapes

And so, as promised, I've returned with a scan of Matt's Easter card. This was tucked inside his traveling case, along with several candy-filled eggs... luckily, the eggs didn't broach any questions at the checkpoint. In a big way, this was actually a little homage to my father, who managed the same surprise for my mother years ago - she was pulled away on a business trip over the holiday, and so he snuck a German paper egg into her suitcase, filled with all sorts of goodies. I miss them both, but find ways to keep their influence deeply present.

A little close-up of a particularly endearing face:


Although I'll be making some revisions before submitting this design to the larger market, it already has a great deal of character. A bit more elaboration, and it will be just right.

Meantime, the cover illustration for the new CD continues. Matt's happy with the ink drawing - the color work should be akin to indulging in a luxurious, long swig of lime rickey. Icy pastels and pastoral themes await!

Characters, and the Offerings they Inspire

A few days ago, the networking power of Facebook reconnected me with a wonderful fashionista I met in NYC some years ago - Lauren Ezersky. From what I recall, we were connected through a magazine editor I created monthly illustrations for - and from the get-go, she was a true delight. She wanted a portrait done with her three chihuahuas, and as an animal lover, I was happy to oblige. While basking in the creative wonderment of her apartment, I took several Polaroids of her and the dogs, and came up with the above illustration. I wanted her attired appropriately, as the glamorous creature she is - stones, jewels, baubles, a ball gown and her wonderfully fluid hair, tied in an updo. I was very happy with it then - and love it now.

I got to thinking of drawings that I've done of people - the aforementioned "Rue Levinson" a favorite - as well as those I've given away, inspired by the recipient's friendship and personality. "Hip Stockings", shown below, is one that I gave to a past co-worker, and longtime friend. The balance of wispy conviviality and solid grounding reminded me of David's personality, and aesthetic sense...

As well, a more recent gift - Matt's Valentine. This is just a photographed detail of the drawing, as I honestly didn't feel like de-framing it (perhaps a later scan will take place, but the piece was created for him, rather than for professional reasons). As I've mentioned, Matt is a keenly accomplished accordion player - thus the theme. "Papa" is one of my pet names for him - and seeing as how it's a common practice for accordionists to have their instruments personalized, well, I figured - why not? In the complete image, the lady sits in an arched wrought iron window, playing. Simple, but a good Valentine doesn't require complexity.


I'm in the middle of preparing a preliminary sketch, for a portrait of an Italian jazz musician. I'm very excited about the commission, and looking back at these little offerings, am very eager to see what comes from my fingertips... here's to what lies ahead!

Seeing Spots

A few years ago, I helped my good friends, Molly Ryan and Dan Levinson, redecorate their bathroom. "Bathroom", one would say - a simple feat. Not so, in this case - Molly and Dan are two immensely gifted traditional jazz artists, living happily in a charming Manhattan apartment - surrounded by books, music, historic photographs, instruments and a lifetime of truly precious artifacts. Molly came to me with the idea of transforming the bathroom into a "Trip Around the World" - bright red, with illustrated vignettes featured on every wall. I jumped into the project eagerly, of course.

Initially, I figured upon painting the scenes directly on the walls, but after some deliberation, I realized that creating the illustrations one at a time on paper, and subsequently applying them to the surface, made more sense. In other words, they would be done as Spot Illustrations - an industry term for small drawings used to "fill in" a printed story/article. They add flavor and interest - exactly what I wanted these to do for Molly and Dan's bathroom.

The pieces were drawn in waterproof inks on bristol, cut out with X-Acto blades, and finally affixed to the wall with a truly wonderful product, Mod Podge. This agent creates a strong, waterproof, wrinkle-free effect, permanently bonding the paper to the wall. Along with the illustrations, Molly picked out some wonderful maps, reprinted vintage postcards, shipment labels and hotel stickers... the overall appearance was delightful.

I've included three of the illustrations here - playfully representing Egypt, India and Switzerland. There were others (including France, which is shown in my second blog entry), but these three are particular favorites of mine.
The third may have something to do with the fact that my fiance' is an accordionist, and dirndls are an inherent element of the polka scene... call it a wild guess.

I think that I have something of a fondness for spot illustrations - they are direct, clean, precise and capture the message in a concise package. Many of my earlier drawings could be defined as spots - they feature strong images on white bristol backgrounds. I've come to greatly enjoy more environmental/situational work since, but my heart still sings at the creation of something so pure as a good spot.

Reflection: An Evening with the Accordionist

Last night, I was fortunate enough to sit in on the regional monthly meeting of the National Accordion Association - my sweetheart, Matt Tolentino, was the evening's featured performer.  Along with the usual polkas, he offered up rags, Oriental fox trots and traditional jazz pieces - a departure from what most would expect of the instrument.  Sometimes I feel that he's on a two-handed crusade to expand the accordion's reputation - and it's a beautiful thing to behold.

Music is intimately linked to the work I create - it's a constant in that offbeat "world in my head".  Its cadences are reflected in the drawings it inspires, in turns sonorous and staggered.  How appropriate that my life has taken this interesting turn - engaged to marry a musician who practically lives to preserve the archaic two-steps, cakewalks, fox trots, Charlestons and what-not that I hold extremely dear.  I'm excited to see where this enthusiastic partnership leads - not only on a romantic level, but in terms of how my work is affected.  If I thought it was wacky now, it can only get more so from here on out.

Here's to what's to come...