The Yellow Teapot
The Yellow Teapot was created during the COVID lockdown. The teapot is a Goodwill find that I finally got around to rendering in oils. The needlework piece it sits on was made by my Greek grandmother a century ago as part of her wedding trousseau. She brought it with her to the U.S. as a teenager.
Her life in Greece was not easy. Her mother was a sometimes-functional often highly dysfunctional alcoholic who was forced to marry a man she hated (she was in love with his younger brother). They ran a boarding house in Athens and had 3 children. My grandmother was the eldest, so it very often fell to her to take care of her younger siblings. She didn’t get much education- just elementary school- but she was extremely bright and read voraciously. She was taught needle crafts and spent many hours working on lace making, embroidery, and sewing clothing.
She didn’t like to talk about her childhood but my impression was that she wasn’t shown much affection and was treated badly. Instead, she told us funny stories about her life as a child in Greece. I found out about all the other stuff much later.
During Prohibition, it was decided to send her mother and the three children to emigrate to America to prevent her from drinking. I believe that some relatives found them housing in Brooklyn, New York. (Nope, it didn’t work- it wasn’t like you couldn’t get the stuff.)
My grandmother and her sister, teenagers, were sent to work in the fashion district, since both were very capable seamstresses. Their brother was sent to high school and then college. He eventually became an accountant and worked for Consolidated Edison.
My grandmother quickly excelled and promoted at the New York City design house where she worked. Eventually she was the person who could look at a designer’s sketch and make the prototype garment for production in the appropriate fabrics. This requires a high level of spatial intelligence and engineering, as well as familiarity with how fabrics can be used. The pattern makers would take her work apart and use it to make patterns for different sizes. She made a lot of money for the time- enough for a down payment on a beautiful brick house in Fort Hamilton, Brooklyn, and a car bought outright when she married my grandfather.
This was an arranged marriage, just like her mother’s had been. She agreed to it because she had no choice, was getting to be a spinster (at age 23!) and so she was married off.
It was pretty obvious that he adored her and she could just about stand him. There was always lots of eye-rolling on her part, and she often complained about him to my mother. He could be exasperating, I think. Still, accepting that this was her life, and all those years married and raising two children gave them some degree of companionable existence.
An aside: it feels shockingly odd to be the eldest woman in my family now. Just can’t seem to wrap my head around it.
Back to the painting.
Once all grown up and married, my grandmother took all of her beautiful work out of its chest and she used it! Some were for every day, and some came out for holiday dinners.
Many of her beautiful fabric and lace pieces survive to this day. I had a couple of them given me years ago, and my mother had the rest. When my mother died this past September, I was able to get a few more.
The survivors are all very fragile. I have had the one depicted matted and framed behind glass for years. I was hesitant to take it out to photograph it for composing the painting, but I was careful.
I now have several of its sister pieces, and may do another painting some day.
Last year, I entered this painting in an art show in Tacoma, for artists over 60. It was a small venue, and I don’t think it got much traffic, but it won 2nd place in the show, and another of the artists in the show fell in love with it and bought it. It’s probably the only painting I’ve ever regretted selling. I did have a very nice print made, though.
“The Yellow Teapot” oil on wood, 11″ x 14″
You can see more of my current and past work at www.mandalaplanet.com
Suzanne
11/16/2022 @ 3:15 pm
Lovely story!
Rose Guastella
11/17/2022 @ 1:24 pm
Thank you, Suzanne!
Suzanne
11/16/2022 @ 6:49 pm
You meticulously created in paint what she meticulously created in thread. It must have felt like a tender process of retracing her steps. No wonder it was hard to give the painting away and separate the you and the her.
I like the cast shadow in this painting, and the area of entropy (or scorching?) that runs along the teapot base. Shadows can change objects into charged more complex things and establish mood. Yours has a lavender melancholy presence that makes a lovely third element with the pot and lace.
The Suzanne who commented and is not me….is that the Suzanne of years gone by who moved to Hawaii? If yes, catch us a up a little 🙂
koshersalaami
11/16/2022 @ 11:34 pm
Beautifully analyzed.
There are two Suzannes? All this time I’ve been wondering if you were the other one even though your voice is different because I know she’s an artist. Do I know you under another name or do we not know each other?
Rose Guastella
11/17/2022 @ 1:27 pm
That’s a really nice analysis, thank you.
The “other” Suzanne is also an Open and Our alum; I hope she comes by to tell us all what she’s been up to for the last few years.
JP Hogden
11/16/2022 @ 9:16 pm
Holy heavens!
Probably the best post I’ve experienced since I began typing & reading blogs way back on 9 JAN 2009 {…}
Effusive applause, Rose — WOW!
Rose Guastella
11/17/2022 @ 1:29 pm
Well gosh! Don’t know what to say except Thank you.
Doris
11/16/2022 @ 9:58 pm
I am fortunate enough to gave a copy of the yellow teapot hanging in my kitchen. Rose was kind enough to send it to me as a gift. I love it and I am proud to display it.
Rose Guastella
11/17/2022 @ 1:30 pm
It was my pleasure entirely!
koshersalaami
11/16/2022 @ 11:35 pm
Rose
I can see why you regret selling it.
Rose Guastella
11/17/2022 @ 1:31 pm
I know, right? I tried painting a new version but it didn’t have any of the qualities that made the first one so good.
It will go on the burn pile next spring!
Ron Powell
11/17/2022 @ 8:18 am
The story is engrossing.
The painting is captivating.
The author and artist is brilliant.
Brava, Rose, Brava!!!
Rose Guastella
11/17/2022 @ 1:32 pm
Thank you so much Ron. It never crossed my mind that this would be so well received. Just like I paint for myself, I write for myself as well.
Ron Powell
11/18/2022 @ 7:17 am
“Just like I paint for myself, I write for myself as well.”
When I taught intro to mass communication, I began the writing component of the course with the following advisory message:
“Write what you care about with passion and gusto. Say what you mean and mean what you say. Have the courage of your convictions, but show respect and deference to the opposing points of view, criticisms, and critiques that will come as comments on your post…Remember, opposing comments reflect readership as well as comments that are in agreement with, or supportive of, your work.
Learn to disagree without becoming disagreeable. Civility is what writing is all about…
Above all else, have fun. If you enjoy what you’re doing it will show in your writing, regardless of your style of writing, or the nature, or weight of your topic or subject matter…Write for yourself. sometimes, write to yourself, simply for the joy of being able to do so. You will find that others will want to share in the joy and participate in the fun you’re having. When they do that, they become your audience, and you will have become a writer.”
Your work on this post is A+ material as an exemplary manifestation of the thoughts I was attempting to convey to my students in that class.
Rose Guastella
11/18/2022 @ 12:23 pm
Ron, I always very much appreciate your comments here. In this case, I wrote this piece all in one go, because I was talking to myself. I did end up moving things around a little, and then I edited for grammar and spelling. That’s something I dearly wish my own students would do. The writing skills of my Art for Teachers and Art Appreciation classes at the college are abominable.
Anna Herrington
11/19/2022 @ 12:23 pm
Hi Rosi ~
Haven’t come by here in ages and so glad I did. Been enjoying reading various posts, and so glad to see you writing here, the creative Suzannes as well – Suzanne (frannybeaks and greenheron – waving!) and Suzanne of beautifully creative artworks in Hawaii leaving comments.
This really is a lovely painting. The story of your grandmother’s life, lacework and seamstress skills, fascinating and somewhat familiar to so many women back in the day, no doubt.
I have many pieces of old lace and tatting from some upstate New York ancestor’s work, hand stitched garments with incredibly tiny and perfectly even stitching…(I don’t know what to do with them!) Such skill, as is yours re-creating the look of that work. To me, this painting evokes a whole era of life at hearth and home, teapot with hot tea waiting, fine needlework created, warm yellows of hearth and home. I almost bought it instead of the ones I did, and now am regretting that I didn’t as I could give it back to you. Glad you have a print! I do love the ones I did buy, the more unusual teapot shapes, they flank my late mother-in-law’s favorite print, an old fashioned scene of women in the kitchen baking and making tea.
Thanks for this story, made my morning ~
Rose Guastella
11/22/2022 @ 3:07 pm
Hi Anna, sorry it took so long to get back here to answer your lovely comments. I’m in the middle of the college end-of-the-quarter nonsense and a water crisis at the gallery where I show my work.
I’m glad you are enjoying your teapot paintings! And you know what, if you had chosen this one, I would have been fine knowing that it was you. I did meet the buyers and they seemed like lovely people and all that, but it’s not the same, you know?
Hope to see you posting here as well! Your photographs and stories are always fun. Instagram just ain’t the same…though I love seeing you there.
Anna
12/09/2022 @ 12:08 pm
No, it’s certainly not the same, is it? Doesn’t invite interaction well, or at all.
If I think of something interesting to post, I will, but admit my brain feels a bit like mush post-pandemic. OS also helped me understand about myself I write well in response or reaction more than I do starting with an original thought and carrying it through.
Have missed the longer form and the back and forth, though. Hope you’re well. Happy Holidays!
Suzanne
12/11/2022 @ 5:00 pm
Anna! Waving back…
In agreement about post pandemic mush brain. I liked blogging at Open Salon, but these days, just answering email is plenty. It feels nice to connect in a wordier way here though, as opposed to leaving a wee red heart on IG. I’m there less and less frequently too. So many ads, and the algorithm profiled me all wrong– no art or critters, mostly shoes, gold jewelry, and Trader Joe’s, well, maybe the Trader Joes.
DM me if you do a post though, I’ll come back!
Also, check out Rose’s spectacular new serving dish, Cthulhu lying in wait for your salad.