Capturing harmony: photographer Tomo Isoyama

Tomo Isoyama, at home in Santa Monica, California.

An invite into an artist's studio may be the most generous invite of all, and when it's a studio that doubles as their home, it's an even greater honor. To my mind, allowing friends, curators and collectors into such a private realm would require more nerve than hanging a show in a gallery! There's a magic to creation, and letting people enter the space where that energy is developed and expressed is hugely revealing. It's even a tiny bit demystifying at first, seeing an artist's process, but then the pendulum swings back to mesmerization as one looks around and sees objects reflective of the artist's outside interests, and realizes how all of those mementos and touchstones swirl into the mix.

I first met photographer Tomo Isoyama about ten years ago, when he had a work/live loft in downtown Los Angeles. We'd not seen him for a very long time, so when my boyfriend and I had the chance to reconnect with him this summer and visit his new place in Santa Monica, I was ecstatic.

Tomo, who was born in Tokyo, primarily focuses his work on the subject of cultural identity. He earned his MFA from USC's Roski School of Fine Arts in 2000, and has exhibited national and internationally. If it's not already apparent, I'm a huge fan of his photography. It's meticulous, smart, and exquisitely made. So it really wasn't at all surprising to find that his home and studio reflect those same attributes.

What I especially loved seeing were the many personal items set thoughtfully around the studio, like orderly footnotes at the bottom of an essay: books on art and medicine; a maneki-neko, or lucky cat; and that icon of American sport, a baseball and glove. (Even the appetizers brought down by Tomo's wife were artistically presented.)

I left inspired not just by Tomo and his work, but by the way he and his wife have merged their lives, their careers, and their home—something my boyfriend and I are trying to do, too. The result of their efforts is a beautifully unified whole, and a tremendous expression of peace.

  

 

A peek and a promise...

The last few months have been incredibly busy (house guests, home reno, an ever-growing list of to-dos, and several writing projects) so it's been ages since my last post. To assuage my guilt I've made a little collage of a few things to come (somehow I always seem to have time to play with PicMonkey): an architect's house, a photographer's live/work space, and a special tour of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences's incredible archive.

All up -- plus a lot more -- after Labor Day, I swear...

Elizabeth Taylor's costumes for Cleopatra... designs that weren't to be

A collection of four costume proposals for Cleopatra, by Adele Balkan

Hollywood memorabilia is a frequent find in Los Angeles antiques shops, but there seems to be a lot of material turning up in Pasadena these days. Kathryn Grayson's wing chairs were a fun discovery in February, and I was particularly excited to stumble across this set of drawings by sketch artist and costume designer Adele Balkan at Pasadena Antiques and Design just a few weeks ago.

Balkan, who began her career in 1934 at Paramount sketching the costumes for Cecil B. DeMille's Cleopatra, enjoyed nearly 40 years in the business and worked for such other legendary studios as RKO and 20th Century Fox. Her credits include The Ten Commandments, The Young Lions, and Flaming Star, but sadly not the more infamous 1963 version of Cleopatra staring Elizabeth Taylor, for which these sketches were made. They do seem a bit "showgirl" compared to the final designs chosen for the film—designs that brought costumer Renie an Oscar.

"I had no style of my own," Balkan told an interviewer for the Academy's oral history program. Instead she learned to sketch to the taste of each director—"every detail, every pearl." Tailoring her drawings to fit each studio or each particular film "gave me an education" she explained, and one that allowed her to also sketch for legendary clothing designer Irene Lentz, whose Bullock's Wilshire boutique dressed Hollywood's leading ladies for daily life.

Balkan retired in 1972 and devoted her time to more personal artistic pursuits. She died in Los Angeles at the age of 92.

The drawings are original, signed, and dated 1961. $3,500 each

A more masculine approach to decoupage

While previewing this weekend's Period Art & Design sale at Bonhams Los Angeles, I was tickled to find this Louis XV-style commode decorated with sports headlines, business news, and stock market reports. I honestly can't ever recall seeing such manly decoupage! What a perfect find for Father's Day weekend. (Especially at just $600-800.)

Queen Elizabeth's pearls, a jubilant tradition

Princess Elizabeth waves to the crowds from Buckingham Palace on her father's coronation day, May 12, 1937. 

It's a bit hard to see in this image, but take a look at those three strands of pearls worn by the future queen.

When her grandfather, King George V, celebrated his Silver Jubilee on May 6, 1935 (just two years before this photograph was taken) he gave each of his granddaughters their first grown-up jewelry: beautiful, ladylike pearl necklaces. Elizabeth was given three strands, and Margaret, the younger by four years, was given two.

Elizabeth's is officially known as the King George V Jubilee necklace, and it's one she's worn quite often over the years. Considering the plethora of options she has at her fingertips, I think it's wildly charming that she reaches for the pearls with such frequency. Despite their simplicity, their workaday quality, if you will, she's chosen them for some extraordinarily high-profile events—perhaps none so great as the wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. 

The Queen, radiant in yellow and the King George V Jubilee necklace, at the marriage of Prince William and Kate Middleton.

The pearls also made their appearance on the 20th of March, when the Queen gave her Diamond Jubilee address to both houses of Parliament at Westminster Hall.

The pearl is regarded as a symbol of unblemished perfection, and its meanings include purity, charity, honesty, integrity, and wisdom. If stones do impart their intangible qualities to the wearer, and we add to that the fact that this necklace from her grandfather (whom she affectionately called Grandpa England) marked not only a momentous family occasion but her transition into adulthood—well, it's really quite easy to see why she chooses it above so many others. 

Which, of course, leads us to yesterday's jubilee celebration on the Thames. The Queen's choice for adornment? You guessed it, the George V necklace, paired (as she'll often do) with the late-19th century Ladies of Devonshire earrings that were given to her as a wedding gift by her grandmother, Queen Mary. (A few newspapers have erroneously reported that the necklace is from the Devonshire set.)

The only question that remains: might we see the necklace at tomorrow's festivities? 

The Queen and Prince Philip aboard the royal barge for Sunday's jubilee celebrations.