The inspiration, by the way, happened today at work. Had to put in a half-day, which was mostly composed of eating cookies, chocolate dog chow (it's a chocolate-covered popcorn snack, fyi), biscotti and doughnuts. The other half was participating in an awesome gift exchange that didn't include buying a present for someone else -- it was all company swag -- and surfing online. I just discovered Amazon.com's wish list, and while I can't purchase everything I want whenever I want it, adding things to a wish list is oddly satisfying. Like I'm shopping without having to spend any money. Honestly, I think I'm more turned on by the seeing and compiling of items (even if it's just in cyberspace) than I am of actually having things in my possession! Yup, my husband is fully supportive of my wish list habits.
Anyway, it's no secret amongst my friends that I like to dress up. I'm a theatre major (as one can easily tell by my spelling of "thea-tra"), and I love costumes. I especially love fancy themes, and nothing says "fancy" like the 1700s. I mean, tell me you don't agree -- wigs, white powder, chandeliers, string quartets, bonbons, Versailles, amazing dresses... all things that give a definite impression of "fancy" in true 18th century style. And while the pannier (the underskirt hoop, not the bike bag or the cheese) kept doorways wider and sitting a bit more difficult, I'd still opt for one of those awesome dresses over jeans, any day.
All that to say, I stumbled upon some fabric choices and Baroque dance instruction DVDs on Amazon and started my list... and started this blog. After all, it's history preservation, and it's fulfilling a potentially expensive shopping habit, so we all benefit.
In order to keep the above things prevalent, I've made it my task to endure to capture such fancy 18th Century fancy-pants trends and write about them with passion and flair.... It's really not a job, it's pretty fun for me. Did I mention I was the drum major in my high school marching band and I'm basically an all-around nerd? Respect the baton, people. Don't mock the gift.
After shopping-by-osmosis, I got all excited about general 18th Century genius and had to watch a period film. I popped in AMADEUS as soon as I got home. While perhaps not a medium for learning all there is to know about the musical genius, the movie, I think, shares an accurate portrayal of 18th Century regalia, and Mozart, regardless of the medium he is portrayed in, is definitely fancy-pants enough for me. So take that, potential highly-educated music know-it-all critic. Movies rock.
But in all seriousness, I am easily influenced by movies, and while I don't remember when I first saw AMADEUS, I know why it still affects me today. First, any man willing to don the period-appropriate attire (i.e., tights, wig and frou frou lace neck piece) is a man of influence in my eyes. Yup, real men wear pink (or other pastels...at least on occasion). Second, Hulce's laugh is genius (as is all the acting). Third, the story is chilling. So here comes the first dose of personal musings and philosophy.
If you've seen the movie, you'll know it's not really about Mozart at all. It's about Salieri and his continuous struggle with God. I think that's what really strikes a "chord" with me, to be musically punny. Here's this musical mastermind (Salieri) who kowtows to his personal feelings of inadequacy and great need for human approval and blames God for Mozart's unique talent. Salieri gives Mozart utter control over his self-worth, completely unbeknownst to Mozart.
"Because you use for your instrument a boastful, lustful, smutty infantile boy and give to me only the ability to recognize the incarnation..." states Salieri as he places the cross with the suffering Jesus in the fire, swearing he and God will be enemies from thence forth.
Ah, how often we blame God for our own feelings of inadequacy and deny Him the honor of being responsible for so many other more wonderful things -- for giving us the ability to hear such music as composed by another, or the ability to see things of great beauty, or the thrill of experiencing things of such stirring quality...
Is experience not a great gift?
I didn't create the pattern or the shape of the 18th Century costume, but I can appreciate it for its beauty. I was not offered a part in AMADEUS, but I have been moved by the actors' performance. I am not everyone's best friend or the life of the party, but the lights shine just as brightly and the food tastes just as delicious. Is not experience that which makes us human? Is not the means through which we experience those things that which makes God, God?
"God was singing through this little man," Salieri admits in defeat and bitterness, speaking of Mozart's "The Marriage of Figaro". Yet he also admits Mozart's music was marvelous. Through jealous teeth, and without appreciation, he admits Mozart's performance was marvelous. That makes me sad. After all, what is the point of experiencing something marvelous without appreciating it?
Indeed, a valuable gift in this life is being able to appreciate God's ingenuity regardless of form, regardless of host.
A lesson learned from 18th Century fancy-pants: Don't mock the gift.
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