Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Carly at Goodbye Blue Monday

Caroline not only discovered the garden at Goodbye Blue Monday, but also Carly, who, as an artist, ("I only employ artists here," Matthew told us) had a job behind the bar. The lamp is one that was dimly glowing in the bar as we first entered.

As I was scrolling through the shots on my camera, Carly was looking over my shoulder and after many pictures of people had come up on the screen, she jumped in the air and exclaimed, "That's great." It was a picture of our cat Nutmeg sitting on a log with her tail hanging down.


  1. In addition to the amber tones, the roundness and fullness of everything in this picture adds to the warmth. I love the lighting. It mimics a solar eclipse, givng Carly a seductive Phantom Of The Opera moment.

  2. I love this photo--the shades of yellow so beautiful, and the shadows on her face too.

  3. This is really gorgeous Dmitri. I've been avoiding commenting on formal nonsense lately but... just look at the way her breasts, lamp base, and cup (no pun) rivals each other for focal point status. The way the artificially illuminated packed hanger dramatically echos her contours originating from the arch of her naturally illuminated arm. Intended or not, the iconography here is equally fascinating. Bear with me. The lamp to me symbolically represents death. It's lifeless base mocks the youths ample bosoms. The hanger is like deaths arm, seemingly touching the woman's shoulder- a reminder perhaps of the imminent passage of her youth and mortality. The yellow lamp light from the right originates from the darkness. The natural white light from her left sustains her now. Less subtle of course, is the posted skull appearing to rest on the lower edge of the shade. Wow! I haven't seen that motif employed since Holbein! Stunning!

  4. I didn't really see Carly at all, since GBBM was so dark it was hard to see anything or anyone. I just felt for her -- overlooked as a model was photographed out in the sun, her in gloom, hunting for sandwiches in the fridge.

    When I first saw the picture I thought time had been displaced. That afternoon tea was somehow caught at 3 a.m. Spooky.


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