#tapissier

[the-evil-clergyman]

Titania by Edmond Tapissier (Late 19th - Early 20th Century)

[random-brushstrokes]

Edmond Tapissier - La Dentellière (1889)

[yeonban]

SOMA'S BIRTHDAY GIFT!

@deathfavor asked:  “ Soma. “ Seiroku’s voice is soft, a hand reaching out to gently brush over Soma’s cheek as he spares a glance from the corner of his eyes. Should they be sleep already? Probably. But this was worth staying up a bit later for. Seiroku sits up a bit from their futon, using the moonlight to help as he leans over Soma’s figure with a smile. “ Happy birthday. “  Never mind they haven’t yet fallen asleep to ‘start’ the next day – based on the outside it should be the next day technically. He bends down, pressing one kiss, then several to Soma’s lips, soft and gentle. “ I wanted to be the first to tell you. “ He whispers, thumb gently caressing his fiancé’s cheek. “I love you.”

   It’s definitely harder to be able to celebrate Soma’s birthday than his own. It’s a day full of tradition and it’s about the band as much as it is about Soma. And he’s plenty aware of both how important those traditions are and how long they are likely to take based on rough calculations. Hours upon hours. He’ll take the time together where he can. Now, and after they’ve slept and the morning comes and Seiroku forces himself to get up early alongside him because he’s not going to miss out on parts of Soma’s day.   Not even the hours of gifts and talks where he can at least be supportive in presence. ( And company alone Seiroku was content enough with. )

   It does feel near impossible to steal some time, but there is time between the gifts and feast where Seiroku manages to steal the star of the day away for at least a short while.  “ Next year, I’m scheduling at least a small, set time for you and me. “ Seiroku announces the moment he’s led Soma away, though there’s a smile on his face. Rather than go to their room however, Seiroku leads him to what was his old room before everything. “ I had to store my gift for you here so you wouldn’t accidentally find it. “  Seiroku explains with a small smile. He gives Soma’s hand a gentle squeeze before he lets go and turns towards the chest in the room.

  “ My gift is nothing fancy- “ Well, that potentially not true, but not fancy in terms of grandiose. “ -  but I hope you’ll like it all the same. “ With hundreds of gifts, it could be quite hard to think of something when Soma already could have anything. Nor was there something of the past that Seiroku could offer, when his own clan history was miserable. But there was an unexpected skill he’d been working on the last several months.

   When Seiroku turns around, he offers a Soma a small kesi tapestry from high quality silk and vibrant colors. In the center were two sacred koi fish corresponding to each of their color schemes with Soma’s embroidered with the Date symbol like a crown on the head. Surrounding them and ensuring they were the center of the piece was a circular, flowy border styled to carefully replicate the pattern that adorns Soma’s outfits. In the background, in gentler and softer colors were woven stories and scenes – of the festival, of feasts with the clan, a moonlit scenery of their night talks. Woven proof of time together. Seiroku’s decades of knowledge and working with his own strings had made weaving a surprising talent for him to discover and learn quickly. It was something he could do for Soma that no one else likely would, something personal, and something that would last against even passage of time.

   “ I confess I’m no expert to weaving, it was my first full piece. “ He admits with a quiet laugh.  “  Took a long time.  “  Moments stolen on his breaks when Soma wasn’t around or inbetween lulls of patients or the times when Soma was gone or busy, hours poured into honing the skill and learning the difficult fabric, not to mention all that was poured into creating this seamless piece.  “  Although I already said it, I'll say it again. Happy birthday, Soma. “ He smiles, bright and full before standing on his toes to press another kiss to his lips. " I love you so much. " More than he could ever truly articulate.

Murmuring a soft mm?, Soma's eyes open languidly after the gentle touch succeeds in stealing him away from the tranquility of near-sleep (he hadn't been asleep just yet, merely relaxed enough to be able to doze off in the near future) and he carefully takes in the sight of Seiroku rising from underneath the sheets to drape himself above him, covering all in his line of sight other than a sole ray of moonlight that merely serves to further highlight his fiancé's beauty. The view in itself manages to bring a smile to Soma's face, from his point of view oddly reminiscent of a sun resurfacing from beneath the moon at the end of a solar eclipse, and his smile only grows fonder once the birthday wish leaves Seiroku's mouth.

❛ Looks like it's already shaping up to be a happy one. ❜  And despite what appearances might prompt one to think, this isn't something that happens frequently. It isn't that Soma dislikes his birthday (far from it), but he cannot recall any recent birthdays that could have been deemed as happy. Successful, yes; decent, yes; exorbitant, yes - but not once happy. Though the entirety of the band desires to celebrate his day of birth, offering him luxurious gifts upon luxurious gifts every time such an occasion comes around, it remains a much more formal event than Soma would rather it be. He enjoys the attention and feeling of importance it stirs within him, but it lacks the warmth he used to take for granted all those years earlier, during the times he could still spend with his parents and older brother, when he never once felt the pressure to show anything other than his bona fide reactions (glee, usually) to the presents.

Along with his family's absence and the increasingly busier schedules of the other grand generals that rarely allow for long trips unrelated to important matters (as well as their distancing from each other over the past decade), Soma's birthdays have long since lost their warmth, becoming something more akin to official business than a day personalized for him. He doesn't particularly mind the shift - it simply represents one more unspoken duty to follow through with, but this year is already far different from the ones before it. The kisses that pour down on him manage to rekindle the warmth he'd forgotten to feel on this day with such ease that he could laugh, and one of his hands reaches up to caress Seiroku's cheek in kind, guiding him down for another kiss before they finally agree to sleep and he softly whispers against Seiroku's ear. ❛ I love you too. ❜

It was certainly going to be a long day nonetheless, but perhaps this year Soma could afford to be even half as happy about his own birthday as his retainers have always been (for them, his birthday represents one more year of safety and guidance - for him, ever since the innocence of his childhood has eroded away, it merely became another sign of the unforgiving passage of time; though now he has something else to look forward to in the future besides the goal all bushi should strive towards - and he is currently sleepily snuggled against his chest).

Daybreak seems to come faster than usual, and although both his sleepiness and the comforting warmth of Seiroku's presence try to keep Soma inside the futon for a while longer, the red soul forces himself to wake up and start getting ready for what's to come. On any other day, he might have been able to do away with a few more minutes of rest, but on this particular day the schedule is strict enough that he wouldn't be surprised if his retainers were to come knocking on his door to make certain that he'll be on time; and so he mentally prepares himself for the ceremony ahead and leans down to press a kiss to Seiroku's temple, waking him gently instead of the banging that's sure to follow from their retainers if either of them aren't within sight in the next half an hour.

What ensues conforms to what Soma is used to - a quick debriefing of his schedule for the day, the meet and greet of visitors from the Date's allied bands and the seemingly never-ending line of vassals hoping to outdo each other with the grandiosity of their speeches or the beauty and rarity of their presents. The grand general's expression doesn't change through any of it, remaining just as calm after the hundredth gift as he'd been after the tenth, but halfway through the gift-giving ceremony he subtly grasps Seiroku's hand under his haori, intertwining their fingers and offering it a gentle squeeze as a sign of gratitude for enduring this with him despite not having to (his retainers might've been displeased with his absence, but either of them could've easily talked them into allowing Seiroku to do anything else), before he settles on rubbing his thumb against the back of Seiroku's hand in smooth motions. He has long since gotten used to these formalities, but this must be the first year Seiroku has had to sit still in silence, listening to person after person talk for hours on end when they weren't even directly speaking to him.

Soma's composure doesn't crack even after the gift-giving ends, remaining as spotless as though the ceremony hadn't involved hours upon hours of maintaining a stiff position and being forced to socialize from a captain's standpoint (because while it might be "Soma's" birthday, it is undoubtedly celebrated as the captain's birthday). It's only when Seiroku's mildly aggravated comment hits him that Soma's carefully crafted expression breaks into something partly apologetic and slightly amused at the display, as well as deeply fond at the thought it inspires. Seiroku is the only one capable of confidently bossing him around like this even just in jest (and he isn't jesting on this matter), but come "next year" and they'll be long married. Soma can only promise him this now, but in a mere few months' time Seiroku will be able to officially make any changes he wishes to his upcoming schedules (within reason). ❛ Next year you can have me for the entire afternoon or evening. We can schedule the feast around whichever one you choose. ❜ 

The grand general's attention shifts away from his yellow soul once their surroundings become different than what he'd originally expected them to be though, and he closely watches as Seiroku opens the door to his first ever house at the Date, leading him inside of it. It has been quite some time since Soma has last stepped into this room (despite everything having started here), and underneath his confusion a feeling of mild nostalgia kicks in. It hasn't been that long ago all things considered, but it certainly seems that way after everything that has transpired between the two of them lately. No sooner does Soma bemusedly contemplate Seiroku's rooms turning from one to three (from this, to their shared one, this one and the spare one he's gifted Seiroku within the castle) that his beloved's statement brings him back to the present moment and the grand general turns around to face him, glancing down at the gift resting in his hands.

Soma's eyes widen immediately upon contact with the tapestry, having expected a gift, but nothing nearly as heartfelt as the one currently bestowed upon him. He freezes for several seconds as a hand reaches to gently touch it & ultimately takes it into his own hands, surveying it much alike to a child receiving its first ever toy (a feeling of bafflement, a feeling of wonder, and to separate his reactions from a child's - a pang of the heart). Receiving gifts is nothing out of the ordinary even on other days of the year for someone of his status, nevermind on the day of his birth, but fifteen years have passed since he's last received something as Soma rather than as the captain, and he cannot recall even one instance in which he's ever been presented with something that didn't in some way relate to his future or life as a leader.

Kitetsutos and wakizashis of the finest calibers one could possibly forge or order, horses and motorbikes more refined than the next, vibrant and rare cloths and materials from far away lands, Hi no Moto's first-rate sakes - as long as it could be named, Soma was bound to have received it at least once, if not repeatedly. However, they all have one thing in common. Each gifter generally strives towards one of two goals: to prepare (or aid) him to lead and battle, or to gain his personal favor for later use. Even on the few instances his and the other grand generals' schedules have matched enough to meet and exchange gifts, they too had, without fail, fallen into one of the two categories. It's both a saddening and heartwarming realization, looking back on his past experiences, that even people who have known him for most of his (and most of their) life couldn't yet achieve what has taken Seiroku a mere few months to. He's been Soma's first on more fronts than the red soul has even bothered to count, and yet, as though dissatisfied with only just that many, his fiancé continues to go above and beyond to make him feel seen, loved... closer to a person rather than the concept of immovable power "Date Soma" has become synonymous with.

❛ ..."No expert"? If you hadn't told me you made it, I would've been convinced you commissioned it from a professional. ❜  It's his first thought on the matter, honest and true, and although he's already uttered a response, Soma's eyes remain glued to the tapestry, slowly taking in both the effort it must've taken for it to be woven this flawlessly (Seiroku admits it has taken him a long time, and while Soma can most definitely see why, the fact that Seiroku would personally spend his time weaving it rather than sparing himself the trouble by ordering one from their many tapissiers renders him speechless) as well as the details his love has carefully chosen to add to it, each more recognizable than the next. None merely there to fill potentially empty spots on the tapestry - every single one a precious memory of theirs that Soma can still vividly recall and which he's glad to see somewhere else than only in the confines of his memory. They're scenes of easier and happier times than customary to a bushi's daily life... of memories that they can both look fondly on rather than lament about (he's had more than his share of the latter, after all, as they can be found even on some of the walls in his room).

He blinks once, twice, thrice, making a serious effort to not tear up. It's never been easy to make Soma cry (a feat that has always required either great anguish or great happiness - mostly the former rather than the latter) and he won't do so now either, not when thousands of people are looking forward to seeing him again in the next few minutes; but that doesn't stop his eyes from growing slightly hazed from the tears threatening to spill before he forcibly pushes them back to where they came from.

His gaze lingers on the kesi tapestry in silence for a bit longer (still in mild disbelief) as he appreciates every aspect of it (the handiwork, the times they've spent together that remained etched into Seiroku's memory, the thoughtfulness and consideration behind it all) before he frees one of his hands to reach for his love's and squeezes it, eyes finally rising to meet his gaze. ❛ Thank you, Seiroku. It's by far the best gift I've received. And I don't mean just today, but on any of my previous birthdays too. ❜  A loving smile blooms from underneath the barely avoided threat of staining vulnerability as Soma can't help himself from not only returning the kiss, but placing more to Seiroku's lips before choosing to rest his forehead against his beloved's as they have for countless times. ❛ I love you. ❜ A whisper, low and tender, as though it could've otherwise disturbed their moment, and the red soul refuses to return to their vassals for at least a while longer, opting to instead pay attention to every microscopic detail of this moment, to engrave it into his memory as accurately as Seiroku has engraved their many others onto the tapestry.

A few more seconds pass in comfortable tranquility to allow them to enjoy the moment in its entirety before Soma exhales amusedly at something and ever so slightly increases the distance between them, though his tone leaves no room for any misunderstandings that might've ensued from the statement alone. ❛ Though "second best" might fit it better overall. ❜  There is no better gift he's ever been presented on a birthday, that much is certain, but he has received one on another occasion that could effortlessly top even this one (and it does, even if the tapestry is a close second).

Soma's gaze doesn't waver away from Seiroku's, upholding the eye contact even as he brings their intertwined hands higher up and places the palm of Seiroku's hand against where his heart lies in both a throwback to the day they have chosen to take this road together (matching Seiroku's thoughtful gift of memories) as well as a way to swear on his life that this is the truth he sees without verbally doing so. ❛ I don't think anything can really compare to the gift of meeting you. ❜  Every word the grand general utters is the unfiltered truth (red souls never feel inclined to spout lies, and neither does Soma) but he wants Seiroku to be as certain about this fact as someone can be. The grip on the kesi tapestry remains delicate even when it grows slightly firmer as to not accidentally drop it, and Soma leans in for another kiss after the statement settles, no longer capable of keeping himself away from the one who is, undoubtedly, the love of his life.

[japanickinginyamanashi]

Paris Open Inspiration for a large, open-plan Scandinavian family room and library renovation without a television

[lesser-known-composers]

Sanctus de Johannes Tapissier (1370-1410) (Apt - Trésor de la Cathédrale Sainte-Anne, ms. 16bis)

Ensemble Refactus : Brice Ramondenc Eliott Gualdi Hugo Macé Jean-Baptiste Nicolas

[dogandcatcomics]

#repost @bri.tapissier Brian Tapissier (Santiago and Villa Alemán, Chile). First image is Tristón, 2022, watercolor and acrylic on paper, 15 x 15 cm. Second image is Primavera Chiqui, 2022, watercolor, acrylic, and ink on paper, 15 x 15 cm. Third image is a portrait, 2021, watercolor, acrylic, and ink on paper, 14.8 x 21 cm. Fourth image is Yuyo, 2022, watercolor, acrylic, and ink on paper, 15 x 15 cm. Thanks to @noiryaguara for the tip.

[mote-historie]

Umberto Brunelleschi / Zinoviewe (Alexandre Zinoview) / George Barbier, Pour rêver un peu (To dream a little), Mercier Frères Tapissiers-decorateurs, La Guirlande : album d'art et de littérature. (page 60), 1919.

[culturefrancaise]

Enregistré en 1912, ce tapissier découvre son accent parisien

Je vous recommande à tous de l'écouter. Une belle découverte !

[pompadourpink]

Les virelangues

Seize chaises sèchent - Sixteen chairs are drying

Le petit chat chassait les souris qui sont sous les coussins - The little cat chased the mice that are under the cushions

Didon dîna dit-t-on du dos dodu d’un dodu dindon - Dido dined, or so they say, on the plump back of a plump turkey 

Si six scies scient six cyprès, six scies scient six cyprès - If six saws saw six cypresses, six saws saw six cypresses

Choisis 600 chouchous et si ces 600 chouchous sont chouettes, choisis-en 600 autres - Choose 600 scrunchies and if those 600 scrunchies are nice, choose 600 more

Piano, panier, panier, piano - piano, basket, basket, piano

Un pâtissier qui pâtissait chez un tapissier qui tapissait, demanda un jour au tapissier qui tapissait : vaut-il mieux pâtisser chez un tapissier qui tapisse ou tapisser chez un pâtissier qui pâtisse ? - A pastry chef who was baking at an upholsterer who upholstered's once asked the upholsterer who upholstered: Is it better to bake for an upholsterer who upholders or to uphold for a pastry chef who bakes?

Les chaussettes de l'archiduchesse sont-elles sèches ou archisèches ? - Are the archduchess's socks dry or very dry?

Tu t'entêtes à tout tenter, tu t'uses et tu te tues à tant t'entêter - You persist in trying everything, you wear yourself out and kill yourself by being so stubborn

Trois ogres ocre griment trois autres ogres d’encre ocre - Three ochre ogres scratch three other ogres with ochre ink

Trois tristes tigres trônaient dans un arbre qui trônait au milieu d'un trianon - Three sad tigers were seated in a tree that was seated in the middle of a trianon

Ah ! pourquoi Pépita, sans répit, m'épies-tu ? Dans les bois Pépita, pourquoi te tapis-tu ? Tu m'épies sans pitié, c'est piteux de m'épier ! - Ah, why do you spy on me, Pepita, without respite? In the woods, Pepita, why do you lurk? You spy on me without mercy, it's pitiful to spy on me!

Un chasseur sachant chasser sans son chien est un chasseur qui chasse sans chien mais qui chasse quand même - A hunter who knows how to hunt without his dog is a hunter who hunts without a dog but who still hunts

Si vous voulez vous venger, rendez-vous vite - If you want to get revenge, surrender quickly

Douze douches douces - Twelve sweet showers

Je veux et j'exige les joyaux de ces jolis et joyeux oiseaux jasant - I want and demand the gems of these pretty and cheerful chattering birds 

Étant sorti sans parapluie, il m'eût plus plu qu'il plût plus tôt - Having gone out without an umbrella, I would have liked it better if it had rained earlier

Satan montant des cendres s’attend à descendre mon thé. Sentant mon thé, je monte. Satan m’entendant monter, redescend cendres et mon thé, mais Satan s’étend, et cendres et mon thé descendent - Satan rising from the ashes expects to down my tea. Smelling my tea, I go upstairs. Satan hearing me coming upstairs, brings down ashes and my tea, but Satan extends, and ashes and my tea come down

Fait faire à Fabien fourbe et fautif force farces fausses et fantasques - Makes the deceitful and faulty Fabien play many false and fantastic pranks

Le cri du cygne qui crissait dans le cristal des cris d'oiseaux qui crissaient - The cry of the swan that was screeching in the crystal of the cries of birds that were screeching

Seize jacinthes jaunes sèchent dans seize sachets sales - Sixteen yellow hyacinths are drying in sixteen dirty bags

Un généreux déjeuner régénérerait des généraux dégénérés - A generous lunch would regenerate degenerate generals

Le chaton qui chassait le chat qui chassait la souris qui chassait le rat qui mangeait du fromage - The kitten who chased the cat who chased the mouse who chased the rat who ate cheese

Movie: Les demoiselle de Rochefort - Jacques Demy, 1967

Fanmail - masterlist (2016-) - archives - hire me - reviews (2020-) - Drive

[yourpicasso25]

Let's get in Sim Manu's home for a tour, shall we?

Main entrance (RL me would dial the clutter to 11, but then this house is also far bigger than the flat I actually own, so it evens up somehow)

Leading to the living/craft room

So, if you ever wondered what my home looks like, this is sort of it on a bigger scale: Books and plants everywhere, old oriental wooly carpets inherited from family, chairs and sofa recovered in my choice of fabrics because I used to be an upholsterer, dammit!

And a ton of thrifted stuff, especially paintings.

The one on the mantel is sort o my stuff (from @b5studio, if you wondered): I don't do paint by numbers, but those were the closest to what I actually have. No print or copies of masterpieces, but what you can easely call third rate art (with a couple of second rate here and there).

All of those lovingly accumulated in 35 years of thrifting. Sort of a glorious mess, but I love it!

And of course, a lot of craft everywhere: I do paint too, sometimes, sew quite a bit and also knit and crochet a little, adding to the mess...

On this floor, a blue and white kitchen, bigger than my own but with less blue & white china on the wall... not to mention the copper molds

Upstairs...

My personnal dream bathroom

The closest I could come to my actual bedroom... Yes, I do snore (and how!) in one of those very classic "lit tapissier", at the moment covered in peacock blue velvet in it's latest iteration

First floor office since Simself is supposed to be a writer.

To which I must add the functionnal sewing machie

Which at the moment must be tucked away somewhere in the attic, refuge to all sort of weird stuff and a place to dry laundry in the winter;

As you do.

So this is it for Sim Manu home (and sort of my dream home, dammit, she's lucky to have me as a Simgoddess)... Now, I do have a bit more sewing to do in RL, so see you later, guys!

[mermaidenmystic]

Les sirènes ~ 1896 ~ Edmond Tapissier (French painter, 1861–1943)

[atotaltaitaitale]

.

Friday False Advertising… When the store doesn’t sell what the storefront advertises.

From a Papeterie - Imprimerie (Printer) to Tapissier - Décorateur (Upholstery). One of those stores tucked in a Passage.

*** During my "flânerie", I often notice the beautiful old storefronts, some are even listed as historical monuments but the ones I prefer are the ones where the storefront and the actual store don’t have anything in common...aka my “False Advertising” Series ***

[yxxxxxx1]

Thread about Joanna of Castile: Part 7.2: Juana and Philip arrive in Spain

They reached the high pass of San Adriano, toiling through heavy snow toward Salvatierra/Agurain, where crowds of Basques surrounded them. According to the Reise author, the prince's hands went red from all the besamanos (hand-kissing).

Throughout the journey, French-language chroniclers emphasise Philip’s primacy. The Spanish kings wanted Juana to be protected. They issued instructions to various cities to make sure the princes stayed together under one roof.

At the monastery of Santa María la Real de las Huelgas, outside Burgos, where they attended mass and kissed relics, two ‘equal’ seats awaited them at the high altar.

Bernardino Fernández de Velasco, constable of Castile, greeted them a half-league from the city, whose gates were closed ritually against them until they swore to uphold its privileges. When, at nightfall, they processed to the cathedral, they did so together, under a golden pallium. A single sword, the symbol of sovereign justice, was held before Juana and another before Philip.

At Olías, north of Toledo, Philip came down with measles. This must, nonetheless, have been one of the happiest moments of Juana’s life. Late one April afternoon, she watched from a gallery as, among an incoming party of riders, she glimpsed a familiar and “very pleasant, laughing face.”

As Juana struggled to get through the crush, Fernando stepped forward, sweeping off his headgear, and kissed her twice “for joy.” Seizing his hand, she led him to an inner chamber where she acted as interpreter between father and husband.

An enthusiastic Philip told his chancellor, Maigny, that Fernando had been:

“très humain et bégnin …autant ou plus que s’il feust esté mon propre père.”

During the entry into Toledo on May 7, Molinet was struck by the ritual struggles between displays of precedence and modesty and respect. Lalaing persists in emphasizing Philip's superiority. The Reise author also focuses attention on Philip and Fernando. Aram argues that Fernando collaborated to marginalize Juana and undermine the principle of female inheritance, which both sanctioned and threatened their authority in Castile.

On 22 May, seated below the monarchs in the cathedral, Juana and Philip were sworn-in as the heirs to Castile, León and Granada. During the ceremony, both sacred and contractual, which opened the Cortes of Toledo in 1502, Juana received allegiance first, followed by Philip as the 'legitimate husband'.” 

Juana’s pride in her status is reflected in her commissioning of six stunning tapestries, bought for her pleasure, on 10 August 1502. The “golden tapestries,” worked predominantly in gold and silver thread by Philip’s valet de chambre and tapissier, Pierre van Aelst (or Pieter van Edinghen), with whom Juana had a close working association, and dedicated to the Virgin Mary, remain among the greatest treasures of the Spanish state.

These, connected to foreign policy, seem to involve the whole question of Philip’s political independence vis-à-vis his parents-in-law and wife. In a show of spectacular defiance, Philip sent home the major architects of the Spanish marriage within his council, including its president, Henri de Berghes, and refused to accept the combined pleas of Isabel and Juana to reconsider his decision. The plague may have started to stalk the city. Several courtiers died at this time. Busleyden replaced Berghes but fell sick and, on 23 August, he too died. When the princes left for Zaragoza on 29 August, the political honeymoon was well and truly over. Philip’s

“feet itch, his blood boils … and he can settle nowhere,” writes Martire. 

The princes entered Zaragoza on 26 October for the ceremony of oath taking before the Corts. 

Philip was accepted as the future king, but only in Juana’s lifetime. Juana herself became the first female heir to Aragon, and, in the event, its first and last proprietary queen. Nonetheless, this was a pact conditional upon Fernando failing to produce a new son.

Despite the reservations against female rule, the large numbers attending the ceremonies in Toledo and Zaragoza suggest enthusiasm for the princes.

However, following the partition of Naples, the outbreak of fresh hostilities between Fernando and Louis, culminating in the latter expulsion from Naples, made Philip extremely anxious. Fernando rushed to Madrid, where Isabel was in poor health, before preparing for a fresh military campaign. The monarchs called Philip for talks because they knew he wanted to go home. Juana was left to preside at the Cortes for almost three weeks before she too was recalled. Later Aragonese testimony describes her then much as Fuensalida and Rodríguez de Fonseca had reported:

“very sensible (discreta), prudent (cuerda) and with excellent natural gifts.

After conducting “some affairs” she left Zaragoza on 24 November.

To be continued...

Sources: Fleming, G. B. (2018). Juana I: Legitimacy and Conflict in Sixteenth-Century Castile (1st ed. 2018 edition). Palgrave Macmillan.

Fox, J. (2012). Sister Queens: The Noble, Tragic Lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana, Queen of Castile. Ballantine Books.

Gómez, M. A., Juan-Navarro, S., & Zatlin, P. (2008). Juana of Castile: History and Myth of the Mad Queen. Associated University Presse.

[lafilleblanc]

Event : Le MétaHisme

Work : Le Mobile d’ouverture des univers parallèles

Photographer : Philippe Tapissier

Place : Espace Labasse, 19240 Saint-Viance, France

Date : 17.11.2022 - 28.01.2023

Analysis : Marion Zilio (AICA France)

VR360 : Réalité Virtuelle

[de-gueules-au-lion-d-or]

“Nous n’avons pas à rougir de nos cathédrales et de nos châteaux, de nos monastères et de nos hôtels patriciens. Ce sont de beaux souvenirs pour l’enchantement de la mémoire. Que notre protocole roule les tambours en l’honneur de notre peuple d’artisans. Nos ferronniers, nos batteurs de cuivre, nos céramistes, nos tapissiers de haute lisse, nos sculpteurs, ceux qui habillèrent nos murs de pourpre, qui tissèrent le linceul de pierre des gisants, qui bâtirent les socles et les voûtes, qui torturèrent le bois avec précaution pour qu’il pousse le cri de sa tendresse, voilà les ancêtres de notre esprit, de notre labeur, les pages et les princes de notre royaume culturel. Nous les rencontrons partout, aux jubés et dans le chœur lyrique de nos cathédrales, au pied de nos escaliers monumentaux et à l’entrée des salons d’apparat, dans nos maisons profondes à l’ébénisterie embrasée par la lumière qui tombe des lustres de cristal. Miracles collectifs comme un théâtre moyenâgeux. Quelques paraphes magistraux scandent l’effort solitaire ; mais, pour l’essentiel, c’est dans des ateliers, où l’obstination des uns épaulait la patience des autres, que se célébra à l’unisson l’office de notre éloquence et de notre virtuosité. Notre culture populaire ne date pas d’aujourd’hui. C’est le chef-d’œuvre de notre artisanat. Nous ne réclamons pas des siècles ce qu’ils ne nous ont pas apporté. Nous avons fait des métiers du bois, du fer, de la pierre et de la laine, la tradition de notre effort et de notre art. La mémoire du peuple a besoin de témoins ? Voici les nôtres. Voilà nos racines.”

Pol Vandromme 1980.

[proartsblog]

Habit de Tapissier after by Nicolas de Larmessin ll (1638-1694)