Fridge Philosophy Part Two by Lynda Waterhouse

 

 I posted Fridge Philosophy Part One in 2011. I still have the same fridge although like me, it’s now a little rusty round the edges, but still functioning. Some of the same magnets remain but there have been some additions.

Lately I’ve found myself staring at my fridge door in preference to looking at the news. My eyes skimming over the rust and dust and focusing on the magnets searching for clues.

Clues for what you may ask.

The meaning of life? The essence of myself? The remembrance of things past? Or simply the urge of the collector to ogle their horde?

Consider the Fridge.

There is the vibrant ‘The Springtime of Flight’ by Tirzah Garwood. This painting was one of a series of stunning works made in her bed during her final months in a nursing home. She is gaining more recognition as an artist in her own right and not simply as the partner of a well-known artist. She reminds me to always try to capture the beauty of a fleeting moment.

Close by is a black and white still from the first comedy film ever made in 1895: ‘The Sprinkler Sprinkled.’ It was created by the Lumière Brothers. A souvenir from a recent visit to the Musée Lumière in Lyon. Watching the film made me smile. Laughter is timeless.

There are a couple of magnets featuring Frederick Prince of Wales, the eldest son of George ll and the father of George lll. A cultured and artistic man who, to put it mildly, was not liked by his parents. He died prematurely at age 44. His son became King George lll and Frederick is a forgotten footnote. I am fond of Frederick and the way he parented his own son with love and attention.

The cat by Elizabeth Blackadder is there because my life contains a black and white cat. Mimi, whose tail you can see, is the latest tuxedo cat who came into my life when her previous owner went into a care home.

Whenever I look at a Holbein drawing or painting I am awed by the freshness and humanity he depicts. Holbein is my direct line to humanity.

John Singer Sargent’s portrait of Dr Pozzi stands on my fridge as a reminder of the Sargent and Fashion exhibition at Tate Britain. So good that I visited it twice. It was thrilling to see Ellen Terry’s Lady Macbeth costume beside the painting and to stare in horror at the glistening green beetles sewn into her gown.

The woman dressed in black with the large white collar reminds of how I marvelled at Frans Hal’s addition of a fly to the painting, some kind of memento mori I supposed until the fly moved. Life does sometimes imitate art.

The Paolozzi magnet came from an exhibition of his work in The Whitechapel Gallery. Many years ago I was fortunate to meet with Paolozzi and he gifted me a maquette of an alligator called Meezles as he liked my idea for a story about a boy with measles who travels to a mysterious land and meets the strange creatures, Meezles and Scarletina. The idea of writing a story about measles was rejected as being ridiculous as vaccination had everything under control. Art does sometimes imitate life.

What secrets does your fridge contain?