GRASSLANDS

Last March I blogged about my sad experience of dining at one of my favourite restaurants, Grasslands, with friends, and realizing with horror part way through the meal that one of my beloved gold earrings was missing.  We did a really thorough search of the restaurant, the coat rack area, everywhere, but were unable to find it. I was really heartbroken.  I'd worn those earrings every day for nearly 30 years, since Ivaan had made them for me. They are as integral to me as my signature.

The following week, my friend Esmaeil made me a replacement for my lost earring.  I was thrilled to have it, but because it was new, it was less worn looking than its mate, and the clasp gripped my earlobe more tightly, meaning I needed to rotate my earrings several times a day.

Five months later, my nephew Angus and his beloved, Sara, were visiting, and we were mulling over options for dinner.  Sara mentioned that she was curious about Grasslands, as Angus, Ivor and I had dined there on New Year's Eve.  It was a brilliant suggestion.  I was telling them the tragic story of my lost earring as we drove over, and it felt creepy going in there, as I hadn't been back since that day in February.

I recognized the young woman who was maitre d' that evening, and she recognized me. She'd been our server back in February. She said, "I have something of yours."  I nearly fainted on the spot.  They'd found my earring during a thorough cleaning a few days after I'd lost it, she'd put it aside for me, but one by one, all the staff had moved on to other jobs or cities, and she was the last of the original staff, and the only one who knew me by sight. She was terrified I might come in while she was on vacation or off duty, and no one would know where my earring was stashed.

Let's just say there was a larger than usual tip left that night.  It's good to have a spare, but nothing feels as glorious as both my original earrings. I have always said I plan to be buried in Ivaan's old dressing gown, the most comfortable item of clothing on earth, but I'm inclined to think I'll sleep better if I have my earrings on as well.

Here they are. And, incidentally, Sara loved Grasslands as much as we thought she would.

IVAAN & THE CECILIA STRING QUARTET (THE QUARTET OF DOOM): THE SEQUEL

©CECILIA STRING QUARTET

On September 13, 2010 I wrote a blog post about the first time Ivaan heard the Cecilia String Quartet perform.  The Quartet was in its infancy when we first heard them in early 2005.   We'd just experienced an unimaginable tragedy and felt so broken in spirit that I'm amazed we even came up with the idea of attending a series of informal concerts  at different locations around the University of Toronto campus.

We attended the concert, Ivaan was enraptured by the performance, and when he came home he knew he wanted to present the members of the Cecilia String Quartet with pieces of his jewellery.  He chose dragonfly brooches and asked me to deliver them to the Faculty of Music along with a note from him.

Today is the 10th anniversary of the first performance of the Cecilia String Quartet.  Over the years they have become world renowned, have won impressive awards and released recordings.  For reasons I'd love to know, however, they haven't aged in the slightest.  To mark their 10th birthday, they sent an email saying they were having an informal concert in the lobby of the Edward Johnson Building (Faculty of Music) at U of T at noon today. There was absolutely zero chance I would have missed this occasion.  The timing was perfect.

The Cecilias are quite well known for their approachable manner of engaging the audience.  They often explain interesting things about the pieces they are going to play, and it's more like having friendly banter with a good friend than being educated on the finer points of the piece of music you're about to hear. They are also very funny.

After the first couple of pieces on their program, violinist Sarah Nematallah stepped up to the microphone and told a little story about the very concert at the Faculty of Law which we'd attended in early 2005.  I was seated on a bench against a wall, with people standing in front of me, when I suddenly realized that she was speaking about our concert.  She said she'd thought it wasn't a successful concert and was surprised, a few days later, to receive a package from Scott St. John, who was the Quartet's earliest mentor, containing four of Ivaan's dragonflies and his note saying how much the concert meant to us.  As she spoke, I suddenly realized all four members of the Quartet were wearing their Ivaan dragonflies.

I was so touched, my eyes filled with tears and I had to swivel round and face the wall while I composed myself.  The concert was beautiful. I know Ivaan would have been delighted by Sarah's shout-out to him.  Today, October 15th, is the 10th anniversary of the Cecilia String Quartet's first performance.  A month from today is the 10th anniversary of the death of our beloved boy, the reason we had gone to hear them play in the beginning, and I just felt we had come full circle.

I didn't stay to thank Sarah, Min, Caitlin and Rachel in person, but I'm doing that now.  And Caitlin, your joke about the want ad in the classifieds - you had me laughing!

STILL LIFE

Here are three photographs taken of my 30-second video on the TTC.  At least now I know what time I can go onto a subway platform and see myself on the silver screen.

THE THINGS WE LOSE ©2014 LAB SPACE STUDIO

Did you notice that not one person on the platform is looking at the screen? Fame is fleeting. Ten days on the subway, and already I'm a has-been.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, IVAAN

Today is Ivaan's birthday. It's the start of a new decade for him.  I'll be celebrating the occasion with a dinner party in the store for a bunch of his favourite women.  I've been cooking like a fiend.  My only regret is that Ivor, our Vice President and right-hand man, will not be on hand to join in the festivities, but we'll take some photos of the fragrant Persian food I've been making, and the guests, and will send them along to him.

As usual, Ivaan's portrait will be on the wall, gazing down at us (and the food).  I know he's proud that he's left such an important legacy and that he and his art are still as much appreciated as ever, nearly six years after he departed the planet.

So, here's to you, beloved husband.  Many happy returns of the day. This photo, taken by our friend Slava in August 2008, captures Ivaan  to perfection. Happy Birthday, Ivaan.

Ivaan Kotulsky © 2008 Slava Lukashenkov

THE THINGS WE LOSE

FLAT BROKE; JUST HITCHED FROM VANCOUVER
©1993 CITY OF TORONTO ARCHIVES

A few years ago, I wrote a story entitled Flat Broke: Just Hitched From Vancouver.  It was about the black and white photograph Ivaan took in 1993 of a young woman playing the flute in a downtown doorway.  Her cardboard sign read: "Just hitched from Vancouver. Flat broke."

Ten years after he took the photo, he ran into the same young woman, now married with children.  She inquired about the photo, and he said he'd saved her an enlargement.  He invited her to come by his studio on Queen Street and pick it up.  Three days later, Ivaan suffered a massive stroke.  While he was in the hospital, the building in which his studio was located was sold, and we had to pack up the contents and move to a new location. Ivaan's partner Tamas was packing up when the young woman came by to collect her photo.  Tamas knew nothing about it, and the young woman went away, very disappointed, not leaving her contact information.

Before he died, Ivaan asked me not to give up on finding the young woman and giving her the enlargement he'd been saving for her.

Last month, I learned that LabSpace Studio was preparing a video installation, entitled The Things We Lose, to be displayed on 292 video
monitors on TTC subway platforms throughout the month of October.  They were soliciting stories about things people lose and never regain - not just physical items, but experiences and life events.  I decided to apply to participate, as I felt Ivaan and I had lost the opportunity to give this photo to the young woman.  Happily, my submission was accepted.

A few days later, Laura Mendes and John Loerchner, the owners of LabSpace Studio, came over and filmed me telling my story.

If you are in a TTC subway station during the month of October, look up at one of the video screens.  Who knows?  Maybe you'll see my video.  And - who knows? - maybe someone who knows this young woman (she'd be about 40 now) will see it and tell her I've got the photo for her.

THE LONG, LONG JOURNEY OF ST. VOLODYMYR

Last year I posted a story about three identical bronze plaques Ivaan made to commemorate the 1000th anniversary of Christianity in Ukraine.  He'd hoped to present them to St. Volodymyr Cathedral, partly because they depicted St. Volodymyr, and partly because he wanted to honour his parents, his favourite Priest, and his favourite Priest's wife.

The plaques are beautiful, and last year I was proud to present them to the Cathedral on Ivaan's behalf.  It took some time for the Cathedral Board to decide where to mount the bronzes, but the other day I learned that the first of them had been mounted in the vestibule,  on a column just to the left of the centre doors leading into the Cathedral.  So this morning I put on my Sunday best and packed my camera, eager to take a photograph of one of the bronze plaques in situ.

I arrived just at the right time.  Father Sencio, Ivaan's favourite Priest, to whom one of the plaques is dedicated, was conducting the Sunday service, there was a full house, and the Cathedral smelled wonderful.  One of Ivaan's favourite aftershaves, Angel, by Thierry Mugler, smells exactly like church incense, so I felt like I'd come home.

And there, on a column to the left of the centre doors, was Ivaan's St. Volodymyr.  I started to laugh when I looked at the photograph below, because I suddenly realized that Ivaan had given his own uncommonly handsome nose to the very Ukrainian-looking St. Volodymyr.  It lends him an air of distinction.

As we approach your milestone birthday, Ivaan, beloved husband of mine, I'm thrilled to have been able to fulfill another of my promises to you.

ST. VOLODYMYR © 1988  ESTATE OF IVAAN KOTULSKY

ALWAYS CHOOSE HAPPY

I've been contemplating our upcoming "milestone" wedding anniversary (April 1, 2015, in case you care) and what advice, if asked, I'd give to any couple contemplating marriage. After some consideration, I realize I'd give the same advice to any couple contemplating divorce.

First, I'd tell them a little story about Ivaan and me:

The morning of our wedding day, Ivaan announced he was going to work. That seemed a little over-zealous, since he was self employed, but he assured me he'd be back in plenty of time.  So off he went, and I busied myself getting my hair and make-up done.  He arrived home in plenty of time. I expected he'd go upstairs and put on a suit, but he said, no, he was planning on being married in the clothes he was wearing: black trousers and shirt, his black leather jacket and a black and white scarf.  A number of thoughts raced through my mind, the most prominent among them being, "If you don't put on a suit, we're not getting married".  Then I looked at his face.  He looked terrified.

So instead, I asked myself, "Look, do you want to be right, or do you want to be happy?"

I chose happy, and I said, with as much equanimity as I could muster, "All right, then, let's go".  And we did.  An hour later, we were husband and wife.

Our wedding reception was scheduled for the following day.  My new husband got up, put on his tuxedo and looked gorgeous as always. Best of all, he looked radiant. I dressed up a little, too, in my first haute couture dress, but neither of us could hold a candle to our Princess Bridesmaid, the lovely Nicole Madeleine Duke, age five, resplendent in a Jessica McClintock gown and a golden tiara.  She outshone the bride and groom, by about a mile.

Nearly 20 years later, I reflect on the advice I gave myself on my wedding day. It was the best advice I've ever given anybody. If you are contemplating marriage, or divorce, and you want some good advice, just ask me. I'll tell you the secret to a long and happy marriage:
"Never Choose Right.  Always Choose Happy."