This book focuses on the image-making for China's Empress Dowager Cixi (1834-190 and on Western views of her. Although many articles and biographies written by Westerners have tried to understand her, Cixi, who had worked her way up from being selected as a concubine of Emperor Xianfeng in 1851, remains a mystery. While some have found her impressive, civilized, kind and loyal, others have claimed her to be reactionary, devious, tyrannical, superstitious, drug-addicted, sex-mad and even murderous (Understandably, the Republic of China, which took over in 1911, was little concerned to burnish her image.) What this book aims to achieve is this: as the subtitle – Images, Ideas and Reality – implies, studies of Cixi's public appearance, her images and various opinions about her (ideas) are thought to get as close as possible to the real Cixi. Arguably, the best approach to her is to understand her iconic portraits. This book points to what is the likely reality behind the images and ideas. Here, art history is used to unravel serious confusions of the past affecting the image of a long-reigning Empress and indeed the very image of Imperial China.

Natalia

In December, 2008, my first English book, Dali's 'Le Christ,' will be published. Here I have a new, exciting, and important discovery on Dali's much-loved painting 'Le Christ.' This is an interesting book. It has won praise from several Dali experts, including William Jeffett in his book Dali and the Spanish Baroque (2007).

You can easily purchase this book in bookshops or just simply visit online bookshops such as Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Blackwell, AbeBooks, etc. Or Visit: (http://www.amazon.com/Dali%C2%BFs-%C...

In order to let you get a glimp of what this book is about, here, I post its Synopsis:

Salvador Dali’s great painting, Le Christ, is the best-loved painting hung in Scotland, chiefly because of its apparent portrayal of the crucified Christ looking down protectively on a lake (the Sea of Galilee?), the near shore of which features a range of people – an ancient nobleman, a fisherman and his boat, and a modern suited man. Yet, ever since Glasgow’s purchase of it in 1951, Le Christ has attracted academic suspicion of its intentions, as also physical assaults from members of the public.

There is little doubt as to the passable genuineness of Dali’s conversion to Catholicism (his mother’s religion, but not his liberal father’s) in 1941: it fitted with his parting of the ways with conventional Surrealism and his siding with General Franco in Spain’s civil war to the horror of intellectuals of his day. Yet the themes of both sex and religion were always conjoined in Dali’s thinking; and Le Christ gives rise to doubts as to its straightforward religiosity. Most spectacularly, in golden and frankly triumphant lighting, Dali’s Christ is not conspicuously suffering: there are no nails, no blood, no sweat and no crown of thorns, but many reminders of Dali’s beloved home territory of Port Lligat and of his sex-mad wife, Gala, who had personally escaped from Russian Communism. Mysteriously, Christ’s face is cunningly veiled by a thick head of auburn hair and there is no title on the Cross indicating who is being crucified – instead just a piece of paper lifted (as has not previously been observed) from a painting by Dali’s hero, Velazquez. This book therefore sets out the detailed case that Dali – not unlike other painters – saw and painted himself as the Christ-like figure on his Cross. Dali believed he was born to save the world from modern non-realist art, though not by the route of martyrdom.

Natalia

Last night, I went to see my favorite film "The Desert of the Tartars" directed by Zurlini who was also an art history lover. I have seen it twice and it still remains the best film all time in my eyes. There are first-class cast, excellent theme music, and beautiful and poetic scenes. It not only has great value of aesthetics, but also portrays Western modern mentality very well.

The film shows the whole military operation in the Fort. All of them, except the male leading character (acted by Jacques Perrin), live there with “optical illusion.” He knows something going wrong and people unable to face the truth. Instead of fighting enemies (the Tartars), they shoot their loyal man finding a Tartar’s horse first, then punish a group of soldiers, criticize people who want to report the real alerts, and encourage people to keep quiet and not to talk about anything. They choose not to face the reality in which the Tartars have gradually built up their territory and finally march towards attacking. Ignoring it seems very easy for a short while. For a long term, the problem will become bigger and bigger. In the end, there is nothing that can be done to save the Fort.

The man (acted by Jacques Perrin) sees the problem growing. All high-up officials are getting more and more corrupted in their mind and becoming farther and farther from real life. He couldn’t believe that his faith in serving army becomes in vain. As he said, “I sacrifice everything to see the Tartars.” However, the higher official won’t allow him and send him away because of his poor health. He dies on the journey. Think about if a man looses his spirit in life, it means he is dead. No wonder he dies on the horse carriage. If he stays in the Fort, perhaps he would love to kill one or two Tartar before he passes away.

So much so, the situation of the film is like a Western modern society of political correctness we are now living. People don’t dare to say anything truthful or offensive. When they can see something in their eyes, they often choose to keep silent. Saying truth will lead their careers to falling into a risk. Keeping silent doesn’t mean that the problem will go away. On the contrary, the problem will grow more badly. The leading character in this film said to his colleague: “I can see one… two… three… four… five lights in the far mountain. Cannot you see them?” The colleague said: “No. I see nothing. Nothing at all.” It’s heartbroken, indeed.

There is another point. Virtually, women play a little part here -- only five minutes at the beginning has two women. I often think brotherhood relationship among men in the past was very noble, admirable, affectionate, loyal, responsible, intelligent, intellectual and spiritual (much more different from modern male homosexuality). They are what I cannot find in female friendship. Maybe this mysterious factor is the reason why I adore, respect and love men so much, especially those with a great spirit and outstanding characteristics.

Looking at their photos in Youtube, I have plenty of tears, simply because there is some spirituality and nobility about them.

Zurlini is called "the Poet of Melancholy." His films are all very serious and solemn. He couldn't find a way in life and ended up committing suicide. His poetic sense of melancholy does touch me in a great deal.

Natalia