#eaves costume co.

[lookingbackatfashionhistory]

• Costumed Set.

Designer/Maker: I.Miller & Son, G. Shindhelm, Eaves Costume Co.

Date: 1924

[cheesy09]

[CN] Kiro's Peach Blossoms Date (Part 1)

🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸

[Note: This translation was done with the help of Google Translate :>]

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 1]

Everything is quiet. Dewdrops fall on the eaves of the ancient building, and gusts of wind enter from outside the window.

Kiro is dressed in a blue shirt, gripping a red-tassled spear, lunging and sweeping across the cluster of budding peach blossoms.

The red and blue complement each other, sketching a colorful ink painting of waves chasing the sun. I reluctantly look away and lean back on the couch to edit the Weibo post.

"Isn't Kiro's acting skills the ceiling? The entertainment industry is his domain!"

"If you don’t believe me, you can watch every one of his works and you will know what drama is synonymous with."

Looking at the nine carefully selected photos of Kiro in period costume dramas from different eras, I hum with pride.

Knock knock——Suddenly, there is a light sound of knocking beside my ear, accompanied by a lazy chuckle.

Kiro: Lady Miss Chips, I thought you woke up so early to practice martial arts with me, but you've just been holding that "big brick" in your hands the entire morning.

I look up towards the sound and see him sitting casually by the window, so I pout and show him the screen of my cell phone.

MC: You were wronged. All I'm doing is upholding justice~

MC: There is no end to those unscrupulous marketing accounts. It's easy to guess which media companies are responsible.

MC: They don't have the talent to get the leading role... So they attack you for having too three-dimensional features and too deep eyes to be suitable for acting in period dramas?

MC: Hmph, when you, the young Sun Ce, became famous overnight, I wonder what they were doing.

Last night, Kiro's oriental epic masterpiece co-written by a famous director was previewed for the first time on the Internet. News of its investment of hundreds of millions has aroused widespread attention and expectations.

However, there were quite a few unpleasant comments mixed in, and as a producer, I could tell who the troublesome capitalists were.

Kiro: Don't be angry. Aren't you used to this kind of thing?

Kiro: Besides, Savin has already solved the problem, so we can just stay in Ruyi Town for the holidays and enjoy a peaceful life without being disturbed by anyone a while.

Kiro smiles and climbs over the windowsill to sit down. I fall into his arms and pout unhappily.

MC: I know, but I'm just mad...

MC: Especially when I saw those slanderous articles, I couldn't sit still, so—

Kiro: So you immediately contacted the lawyer of Loveland Films to assist Savin, and then logged onto social media to seek justice for me?

I blink blankly.

MC: How do you know all that?

Kiro: Well, because...

He hesitates as he stretches out his fingertips and traces my face like a painting.

Kiro: It says here "Damn it, I'm going to report all those who speak bad about Kiro!"

Kiro: And here is, "It could have been a perfect vacation, but now it's ruined by them, woooo..."

Kiro: There's also your slightly wrinkled eyebrows and the flaring tip of your nose....

The place where his fingertips rub feels ticklish, and I'm unable to stop myself from laughing.

He unsuspectingly takes my cell phone away and hugs me tighter.

Kiro: So I'm going to interrupt your thoughts now and not let them take up our time.

Kiro: See, you missed how cool I looked during my shooting practice just now...

Seeing him grumble in mock anguish, the slight annoyance in my heart seems to unknowingly dissipate.

MC: Seems like the gains don't outweigh the losses when you say that... Then I don't want to miss your next move~

MC: What are we going to do later?

Kiro: Let me think... There is a temple fair in town today, why don't we go and join in the fun?

MC: Okay, but don't you want to take a break? You were studying the script until midnight last night.

Kiro: Nah, I'm not the least bit sleepy. Let's go, change clothes and go out~

He pulls me to the wardrobe, and I see several sets of clothes prepared by the organizers. Unable to make up my mind for a moment, I steal a glance at Kiro's selection.

Unexpectedly, his eyes rest thoughtfully on the two bright red wedding outfits. I can't help but poke his arm in a teasing manner.

MC: Ahem, the "One Hundred Marriages" event is only three days away... Could it be that a certain someone can't even wait that long?

Kiro: ...A bit. If possible, I'd like to see you in your wedding dress today.

Seeing his frank admission, I feel a bit overwhelmed.

MC: As - as if you haven't seen me in one before!

Kiro: it's because I've seen you in one before, that I'm looking forward to it even more.

Kiro: Looking forward to you wearing it, smiling at me and calling my name.

There is a hint of tenderness in his mirthful gaze, and he reaches out and gently smooths out a wrinkle in his wedding outfit.

Kiro: But if we got married today, you'd definitely be in a rush because you won't have enough time to prepare.

Kiro: And… the weather today isn't the most perfect either.

As he speaks, he looks out the window at the peach orchard and begins to gesture with his arms outstretched.

Kiro: The day I marry you, the weather must be clear and sunny.

Kiro: These peach blossoms have to be in full bloom as well. They'll join me in marrying the most beautiful you.

I look over and see the flower buds hanging on the branches tremble slightly, which softens my heart as well.

MC: Weren’t these peach trees just planted? Will they bloom so soon?

He turns around and smiles firmly.

Kiro: Of course, the most indispensable thing between us are miracles, right?

Kiro: So I'm pretty sure. On that day, not only miracles, but all the good things in the world will come to greet us.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 2]

After changing clothes, we leave the courtyard and come to the temple fair area.

The street is crowded with people. Seeing me look around nervously as we walk, Kiro squeezes my palm as if to comfort me.

Kiro: Don't worry, today I used the new contouring technique my makeup artist taught me, so no one will notice.

MC: But in my eyes you don't look all that different...

I turn my head and took a closer look. He is wearing a red and blue robe today, with a ribbon hanging down around his bun.

Although his hairstyle has changed a lot, his face still looks like Kiro's...

Kiro: That's because you're someone who knows me best.

He smiles and takes my fingertips, gently running them along the space between his eyebrows... the bridge of his nose...

Kiro: You see, there is more white space on my face, and my facial features have gotten softer. It's less likely to attract attention.

He points out the modified spots one by one, but I just blink in confusion.

Kiro: Still don’t see the difference?

MC: Hm...

He chuckles, and his mood seems to improve.

Kiro: Never mind. If someone recognizes me, just take me and run away.

MC: Okay. I'll run away and marry you, and no one will be able to find us~

As we joke with each other, the blue bricks and tiles sparkle in the sun, and an ancient fragrance surrounds the area.

MC: Do you get the feeling like we're living in ancient times when walking on such a street?

Kiro: To be honest, I felt that way ever since we arrived in Ruyi Town.

Kiro: It’s like suddenly traveling to paradise and starting a whole new life.

I suddenly think of something and burst out laughing.

MC: Wouldn't we be unemployed? After all, in ancient times, there was no technology and the Internet to allow us to show our talents...

Kiro: That's not necessarily the case. We still have some strengths.

He looks into the distance in contemplation, a smile in his eyes.

Kiro: As a modern day individual... the first thing we need to do when traveling back to ancient times is to make good use of the information gap.

Kiro: That way I can open an unprecedented milk tea shop and make my first pot of gold.

MC: Pfft, you've read way too many novels.

Kiro: I'm serious! When I earn enough money, I'll buy a large carriage and "wander" with you to see all the beautiful rivers and mountains.

He opens his arms to gesture the size of the carriage. Touched, I start indulging in this fantasy along with him.

MC: So what should I do?

Kiro: You'll be making bubble tea with me, of course. I can't handle it alone.

MC: Hahahaha...!

Amidst my laughter, I see a dazzling array of small stalls nearby, and my eyes light up.

MC: I know. I can set up a stall next to the milk tea shop and sell calligraphy, paintings and other small items.

MC: We should focus on both material and spiritual food!

Kiro: Good idea. I can help you write poems and make paintings when I have free time.

MC: Hahaha, no, no, your paintings are abstract, people from back then may not be able to appreciate them.

Kiro: Hmph, seems that I need to put my all into poetry then.

He shrugs indifferently, picks up a folding fan from the calligraphy and painting stall in front of him, and leisurely waves it around.

Note: The next lines that Kiro recite are written in the form of poetry that don't really translate well into English. I've done my best to make the lines as poetic as possible without changing too much of the meaning, but do take with a grain of salt :>

Kiro: With my heart spoken for, and the moon bright; we share this life together, along with its ever brilliant light.

Seeing him do it so effortlessly, makes my eyes widen in surprise.

MC: You don't say. It really does sound like it~

MC: But I don't think I've ever heard of this poem. Is it a less popular work by a famous poet?

The smile on his lips deepens.

Kiro: What the girl doesn't know is that these are not written by a famous poet, but are just a few lines of casual poetry on a fan.

Stunned, I look at the blank folding fan in front of his chest.

MC: I can't see it like this, turn it over and show me.

I reach out to take it, but he closes the fan and holds it high in the air.

Kiro: Oh... don’t worry, there is one more sentence—May the stars reflect in your eyes and sing along with you in your dreams.

Kiro: How is it? Do you like it?

MC: Well, not bad? It seems like it was tailor-made for our "Twinkle"~

MC: Any more?

Kiro: Mm... none for now.

MC: For now? Don’t keep me in suspense, show me now.

I stand on tiptoe to reach it, curious and impatient, but the man nimbly turns around on the spot, picks up the floral ornament from the stall with his fingertips, and pins it into my bun like magic.

Kiro: Would you look at that, we suddenly have a new sentence.

Kiro: Because of you, flowers bloom and fall; The blowing spring breeze fills my heart with joy.

Looking at that familiar smirk, I vaguely realize something and put my hands on my hips in mock irritation.

MC: Wait, this poem can't be the work of someone called Ki...Ro, right?

Kiro: Nope~

He smiles and unfolds the fan. During the pause, I see that both the front and back of the fan are blank.

Kiro: It was written by Mr. Wuhui. It bears the true feelings he expressed when faced with the woman he loves.

MC: Oh, Mr. Wuhui is really a great writer of our time~

MC: But where did you learn all this? Do people in California still teach classical Chinese?

Kiro: I learned most of it myself, and also consulted a couple of Chinese culture teachers along the way.

Kiro: After all, when developing in the country, the more comprehensive the better.

MC: Wow, your professionalism is truly a role model in the industry!

??: Look there, why is someone with blonde hair wearing traditional chinese clothes...?

??: Yeah, but doesn't he look a bit like... Kiro?

Suddenly, a voice sounds from afar, instantly shattering the smile on my face.

I turn my head in shock, and watch people coming and going in front of me.

??: Impossible. He's become a hot topic lately. You think he'd dare to go outside?

??: That's true, but I've also heard some rumors that he was an abandoned illegitimate child... Is it true?

The noisy footsteps blends together with the whispers, making it hard to tell where the source is from. It feels as though everyone on the street has become a suspect.

I feel a chill go through my heart, and then I realize something...

I thought the slanderous articles were just the hype generated by marketing accounts or the manipulations by capitalists...

But perhaps the real "malice" is sometimes such an unintentional act that makes it difficult to guard against.

I clench my palms and secretly observe Kiro, only to find that while paying the stall owner, he half covers his face with the fan and yawns.

Kiro: [yawning] Miss Chips... I think I need a cup of refreshing tea...

Seeing him mumble to himself, totally unaware of the noise that has just passed by, I instantly breathe a sigh of relief.

Luckily he didn't hear...

I clench my slightly stiff fingertips and point to the teahouse ahead.

MC: Why don't we go there and take a break?

Kiro: Also, should we continue our discussion on our ancient entrepreneurial plan?

MC: Sure!

As I take a step forward, a drop of cold air hits the tip of my nose. I look up and find that the sky has suddenly changed, with a few large dark clouds floating in, a sign of heavy rain.

MC: ...It's going to rain.

Kiro: —Oh no, our peach blossoms!

He suddenly thinks of something, grabs my hand, turns around and breaks off into a sprint.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 3]

When I step into the courtyard, the rain pours down heavily and the world grows noisy.

After Kiro drops me off under the eaves, he turns around and rushes into the heavy rain, heading straight for the wooden ladder by the wall.

MC: Kiro!

Kiro: You go in first!

The rain makes his voice intermittent, and it appears as though he is searching for something in the yard.

I hurry back to the house, finding an oil-paper umbrella in the corner. I open it and rush into the rain, only to find that figure already deep in the peach forest.

Kiro sets up a wooden ladder and steps up, then hangs the large bundle of fishing nets in his hand on the top of the tree.

The world is covered in white, and the unopened flower buds sway in the wind and rain. I quickly run to his side and hold the umbrella towards him.

He is entirely soaked through. Even his usually curly hair is soaked by the weight of the rain and sticks to his forehead somewhat messily.

However, those eyes are still bright.

Kiro: Why did you come here?

MC: I'm here to hold the umbrella for you, of course! I wanted to find two raincoats, but all I could find was this...

He is stunned for a moment, looking at me as I almost get soaked, and laughs.

Kiro: Such heavy rain can't be stopped. You should go back quickly...

MC: Who said that? I will block as much as I can. Isn't that why you came back to save the peach blossoms?

I reach out and wipe the rain off his face and laugh.

MC: Plus, I don't want the yard to be bare on my wedding day.

MC: I... also need to take photos and post them on Moments.

His eyes flicker, and he gives me some of the fishing net in his hand.

Kiro: That’s right, happy occasions should be lively and festive.

Kiro: Let's hang it up together, and then find some cloth to cover the net, it'll be safer that way.

MC: Sure! But where did these fishing nets come from?

Kiro: Found it in the yard. Ruyi Town is built facing the lake, so every household has one.

Kiro: Seems like you aren't familiar enough with our residence. I'll have to punish you by asking you to explore it a few more times.

The whole world is dyed in a fog by the heavy rain, but that dazzling color can never be washed away.

-

The crude awning is quickly put up, but even until dark, the world is still submerged in heavy rain, and even time seems to have slowed down.

??: Sorry, due to heavy rain, some of the props for the One Hundred Marriages event were damaged, so the event has been temporarily postponed.

A few drops of rain splash over me. I hang up the phone and sit down side by side with Kiro in front of the window. We both sigh.

MC: Not only can we not go out, but even the most anticipated event has been cancelled....

Finding it a little hard to accept, I look up at the dark sky with a glimmer of hope.

MC: God who controls all weather conditions, please be merciful and make the rain stop.

Listening to me mumble, Kiro beside me starts to chuckle.

Kiro: If you speak so quietly, the gods won't hear you.

MC: But it's late, and shouting loudly might disturb the neighbors nearby.

Kiro: Silly Miss Chips, who said that prayers can only be made with words? We can also bribe them with delicious food.

As he says this, he stands up and runs out of the room. When he comes back, he is holding a bunch of apples, bananas, various candies and potato chips in his arms.

After a short while, he arranges them neatly and sits down with his hands clasped together.

Kiro: Hello everyone, I am Kiro.

Kiro: I was going to marry Miss Miss Chips soon, but this rain has turned me into a wife-waiting statue...

Kiro: Of course, I know that as long as two people love each other, time and weather don't matter.

Kiro: But I still want to welcome the sunny day with her, want the peach blossoms to bloom, and want everything to be just right.

Kiro: That way I can see her smile without any regrets on the wedding day and hear her say "I do".

My heart suddenly softens, and I can't help but follow his lead and put my hands together.

MC: I am the same, I want my beloved Kiro to be the happiest groom in the world.

MC: If you think we are too greedy... just stop the rain first, and we will do the rest ourselves~

Upon my words, he turns his head and widens his eyes.

Kiro: Wait, why are you bargaining with yourself first? Withdraw, withdraw—

Kiro: Oh Gods, please follow my wishes~

Kiro: I know I'm greedy, but for her, I want to try every method.

Amid the deafening rain, his voice grows softer and softer, yet is filled with piety and longing.

I look at him for a long time, overcome with a sense of peace.

It doesn’t matter if the gods can’t hear me; the dark clouds in my heart have already been blown away by him.

-

Without warning, my eyes suddenly open in the middle of the night.

The reflection of the moonlight sways slightly, and I turn over and bury myself into Kiro's arms. After he subconsciously tightens his arms, I close my eyes in satisfaction.

But for some reason, sleep suddenly evades me.

MC: ..........

I listlessly open my eyes, and my gaze unconsciously falls on the person in front of me.

His freshly washed hair is fluffy and soft, a complete contrast to the messy "wet pup" he was in the afternoon.

I can't help but reach out and stroke it, then trace it all the way, letting my fingers wander between the arch of his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose and his lips.

Just as I raise the corners of my lips, a voice suddenly flashes through my mind.

??: How can someone with blonde hair wear traditional chinese clothes...

I frown and shake my head, trying to get rid of the fading episode from my mind.

But for some reason, I can't seem to get rid of it.

It was like a single wooden thorn pierced itself into my skin, existing silently and sinking deeper and deeper.

Once things settle down, that little bit of pain will spread throughout my body with the beating of my heart, attacking me again and again.

It certainly doesn't cause any substantial harm or pain, but it takes root in my mind and I am unable get rid of it.

MC: ..........

I take a deep breath, kiss the person in front of me, and get up from the bed. I take out the laptop Kiro brought, and sit myself at the table.

As expected... I still can't let go of this matter.

I press the power button and create a spreadsheet. I plan to collect evidence and accuse all those rumors and malicious intentions.

The moment I click on the browser search box, the world around me suddenly seems to darken.

On the blank screen in front of me, a long and dense row of historical search records pop up.

"Kiro"; "Kiro's parents"; "Little Sodas"; "Mixed-blood"; "Kiro's acting skills".

MC: .....!

The rain outside the window gets heavier and heavier, pounding against my heart with sorrow.

Turns out that he has always cared... Hiding it all with a smile.

I purse my lips, walk over to him and gently sit down.

The moonlight shines quietly on Kiro, and he sleeps peacefully, as if none of the troubles in the world can get to him.

MC: Why... didn't you tell me?

Obviously there is a "thorn" hidden in your heart that cannot be ignored as well.

I stare at the person in front of me for a long time, and finally, with helplessness and distress, I poke his cheek with my fingertips.

MC: Kiro....

MC: You're such a big idiot.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

Next: Part 2

[ulkaralakbarova]

A pastor preoccupied with writing the perfect sermon fails to realize that his wife is having an affair and his children are up to no good. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Walter Goodfellow: Rowan Atkinson Gloria Goodfellow: Kristin Scott Thomas Grace Hawkins: Maggie Smith Lance: Patrick Swayze Holly Goodfellow: Tamsin Egerton Petey Goodfellow: Toby Parkes Mrs. Parker: Liz Smith Rosie Jones: Emilia Fox Mr. Brown: James Booth Bob – Pond Workman: Patrick Monckton Ted – Pond Workman: Rowley Irlam Mrs. Martin: Vivienne Moore Vicar’s Convention Master of Ceremonies: Murray McArthur Reverend Campbell: Morgan Gower Billy Martin the Bully: Rupert Simonian Train Ticket Collector: Alex MacQueen Policeman on Train: Paul Viragh Police Interrogator: Tony Denham Judge: Roger Hammond Mark – Boyfriend #2: Andrew Thomas Jones David – Boyfriend #1: Jack Ryan Grant the Goth – Boyfriend #3: Nazim Kourgli Jereny Z – Boyfriend #4: Jack Zimmermann TV Chat Show Presenter: Terry Alderton TV Chat Show Pundit #1: David Schaal TV Chat Show Pundit #2: Chrissie Cotterill Billy Martin’s Gang: Rory Dorling Billy Martin’s Gang: Max Murley Billy Martin’s Gang: James Galloway Film Crew: Screenplay: Niall Johnson Producer: Julia Palau Author: Richard Russo Music: Dickon Hinchliffe Director of Photography: Gavin Finney Production Design: Crispian Sallis Costume Design: Victoria Russell Production Manager: Ray Freeborn Executive Producer: Steve Christian Producer: Noel Donnellon Associate Producer: Peter Fudakowski Executive Producer: David Garrett Executive Producer: Bertil Ohlsson Producer: Matthew Payne Executive Producer: Marc Samuelson Executive Producer: Anne Sheehan Executive Producer: Steve Wilkinson Co-Producer: Nigel Wooll Editor: Robin Sales Casting: Andrea Clark Casting: Jeremy Zimmermann Makeup & Hair: Darren Evans Makeup Artist: Nicola Matthews Makeup & Hair: Aileen Seaton Makeup & Hair: Joan Stribling Set Decoration: Neesh Ruben ADR Mixer: Sandy Buchanan Sound Recordist: Colin Codner Foley Artist: Howard Eaves Dialogue Editor: Sarah Morton Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Brendan Nicholson Foley Recordist: Richard Straker Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Richard Street Foley Artist: Ruth Sullivan Foley Artist: Trevor Swanscott ADR Mixer: Ian Tapp ADR Mixer: Kevin Tayler Movie Reviews:

[banji-effect]

Costume gown in gold lamé lined in peacock blue silk, featuring an underskirt of black chiffon with applied iridescent sequins, custom-made for Marion Anderson by the Eaves Costume Co., 1938–1939

[vietnamtour-blog]

Ha Giang: Things you should know before visiting

Ha Giang: Things you should know before visiting

Vietnam owns majestic mountains and winding passes, which can match the beauty of widely known spots in the world. When it comes to mountainous areas, we cannot help but mention Sapa and Ha Giang.

Both Sapa and Ha Giang are gateways to the outstanding mountain scenery of the Northwest and extreme north of Vietnam. However, in comparison with Sapa, the town hidden in the clouds, Ha Giang is not yet on the beaten trail. So, let’s get to know more about magnificent Ha Giang!

1. Overview of Ha Giang

As the northernmost province of Vietnam, Ha Giang is regarded by many as “The Final Frontier of Viet Nam,” which is a home for ethnic minorities such as Hmong, Tay, Lo Lo, etc.. Each of which has its own history, tradition, clothes, and cuisine that create a unique regional culture.

Ha Giang is also known for the buckwheat flower season in November, which drives people to visit this space to admire blooming flowers on rocks. Moreover, since it is far from the city center and the infrastructure is not yet expanded, tourism is left behind. Therefore, everything is reserved in their pristine beauty. Let’s make your way to Ha Giang to be rewarded by sweeping views of karst mountains, carpets of flowers, and colourful markets!

2. Geographical features

Naturally, Ha Giang is divided into 3 sub-regions. As the northern part is called, “Dong Van Karst Plateau”, there are numerous rocky mountains, deep canyons, large caves and separated rivers. The plateau is covered in bare limestone, which created bizarre, yet splendid sceneries.

Dong Van Karst Plateau. (Credit: Tien Nguyen)

Secondly, the western area consists of 2 districts: Hoang Su Phi and Xin Man. This one has many sloping mountain sides, high pass, valley and narrow springs, and is famous for its wonderful terraced paddy fields.

Finally, the southern part, including the small, provincial capital city of Ha Giang is mostly covered by low hills and valleys along the blue Lo river.

3. Local Culture (History, people)

History

Since ancient times of the legendary Hung kings, Ha Giang was called Tan Hung. It was an autonomous zone under the control of various tribes of Thai and Tay people.

In 1886, the French occupied this region and named it Ha Giang. After independence, Ha Giang was a part of Viet Bac, the local base of support for the Viet Minh troop. The city had to be rebuilt after being heavily bombed in both Indochina wars and Chinese’s artillery in 1979. It was not until 2010 did this city gain attraction when the Dong Van Karst Plateau was designated as a member of the UNESCO’s Global Geoparks Network.

People and Culture

Unlike many parts of Vietnam that are dominated by the Kinh ethnic minority, the community of Ha Giang are formed by minor ethnics, such as H’mong, Tay, Nung, Dao, Giay. While some of them have lived in the region for thousands of years, some have only migrated here in the last few centuries, living on different terrain and altitude. For example, while the H’mong live on the high mountains of 800m and above, the Tay live in valleys and near the rivers. After hundreds of years living together, their culture blended together, too, to create one of the most diverse yet unique cultures in northern Vietnam.

Among many ethnics living in Ha Giang, the Hmong people are a colorful and culturally and historically-rich ethnic minority that occupies the majority of the population in Ha Giang. If there are two things you should know about the H’mong culture, they are “Khen” and linen waving.

Khen

Khen is their traditional musical instrument. It is a polyphonic instrument in the shape of a set of bamboo pipes of varying sizes. This instrument is an integral part of the life of the Hmong people since they use it as a way of communication and express their liberal soul. Therefore, they always bring khen with them.

(credit: vnexpress.net)

Linen waving

A woman is waving linen at Lung Tam Commune

While khen is still a preserve of men, textile is the passion of Hmong women. They are still an important part of modern Hmong culture. The Hmong women employ many techniques such as embroidery, applique, reverse applique, and batik to brocade costumes with various symbols that tell stories.

A H’Mong saying goes: “A beautiful girl that can not make linen is also an ugly one.” Hence, Mong girls are proficient in weaving linen. Of course, in the modern context, you should not take this proverb literally. Please just bear in mind that this custom drives them to make the best clothes for themselves to wear on the festival, to go to the fair, and especially to dress-on on the wedding day.

4. Things to do in Ha Giang (What to eat, where to visit)

What to eat:

Steamed rolls: Trust me, Ha Giang’s version of steamed roll is quite different from Hanoi’s: stuffed with minced pork or cloud ear fungus; served with broth. Perfect for breakfast or a late-evening (9P.M or later) meal.

Au tau porridge: As its name suggests, the dish is made from rice with au tau’s root and porks’ legs. The main ingredient, au tau, gives the dish a bitter taste, and can cause harm if not made well. Luckily, the locals of Ha Giang are experts in using Au Tau. They turn the poisonous roots into something that helps ease joint pain and aiding sleep.

Recommendation: Ms.Huong’s porridge, at 161 Tran Hung Dao Str., Ha Giang City.

Thang Co: The dish’s name derived from Chinese, which literally means “soup cooked in the big pan”. The main materials of Thang Co are bone, internal organs (heart, lungs, nerves, e.t.c…) and meat of a horse, or a buffalo, cooked together in a big pan, then served in a small bowl. It is common to have a sip of corn wine while savoring Thang Co . The added spices such as hemp, cardamom, cinnamon, and anise made Ha Giang’s Thang Co unique and, probably, the best Thang Co in northern Viet Nam.

Where to go:

Ma Pi Leng Pass: Undoubtedly, Ma Pi Leng Pass is one of the most astonishing mountain roads in Vietnam. The 20 kilometre-long road has many sharp turns and incredibly panoramic views. Especially from Ma Pi Leng Viewpoint, you can overlook Tu San Canyon and Nho Que River which flow between its ridges. An hour boat-trip on the Nho Que River is a must when visiting Ha Giang.

H’Mong Royal Palace (Palace of the Vuong): Located in Sa Phin valley is the residency of Vuong Duc Chinh, the King of Opium. Built from stone and fir wood and terracotta tiling in a combined Qing-Chinese, French, H’mong traditional style, the building is considered a gem of the northern district of Dong Van.

Legend has it that before the beginning of the construction, Vuong Chinh Duc went to China to find a Feng-shui Master to Vietnam. They went through 4 district areas under his jurisdiction to find out the best terrain. Ultimately, they decided to choose Xa Phin village – the land located in the middle of the Sa Phin valley. Thanks to a block of soil rising high like a turtle’s hood, symbolizing the Golden Turtle God in Vietnamese legends, this place was chosen. It was believed that by forming up Vuong Chinh Duc’s erection in this territory, his ambition would become true.

As Vuong Chinh Duc was a Hmong wealthy and powerful man for trading goods, especially opium. Sa Phin is the transshipment place for opium from the Burmese golden triangle and the Yunnan region of China to Indochina. This made him decide to incorporate the design of opium into the building. The pillar footstones are shaped into opium fruit, its outside also has unique patterns. Not only the footstones of the pillars but under the eaves and rafters are also sculpted in the shape of opium fruits and poppies.

Khau Vai love market: Another must-do activity is to visit Khau Vai love market, a special and unique annual festival that is held at 26 of the third Lunar month. Lively, colorful and crowded, this is the place where lovers meet and talk, ex-lovers who can’t make it together reunite and tell the story of their life.

Hoang Su Phi: The western mountainous district of Hoang Su Phi is famous for its wonderful terraced paddy fields, poetic Shan Tuyet tea hills from Thong Nguyen’s famous trekking path and the gigantic 2400-meter high mountain of Kiou Leou Ti (Chieu Lau Thi).

Lung Cu Flag Point

Located on the top of Lung Cu with a height of about 1.470m above sea level, this flag’s size is exactly 54 square meters, representing Vietnam’s 54 ethnic groups. Lung Cu Flagpole was built first in the Ly Thuong Kiet dynasty and was originally made of wood only. However, it has been rebuilt and repaired many times, and nowadays, the 9m high flag handle is made of stainless steel.

Interestingly, this place has various legends. The most famous one is attached with King Quang Trung. The legend tells that after a grand victory over Thanh’s army, the King was punished for placing a gigantic drum on Lung Cu’s peak. At a particular time, he signed a soldier to beat the drum three times to affirm Vietnam’s sovereignty over China. After years, as a habit, whenever there is a problem at the border, the Vietnamese beat the dumb again to awake people’s patriotism.

What to do, see: From the top of the flagpole, you can admire two ponds on both sides of the mountain that never run out of water. The landscape at the foot of the Lung Cu flagpole is mountains interspersed by terraced fields creating a wild beauty, the typical feature of the Northwest regions of Vietnam that you do not want to miss. The most exciting and unexpected thing is that coming to the Lung Cu flagpole, you will stand right next to the border of Vietnam and China to have a glance of the neighboring country.

Quan Ba Heaven’s Gate

Located at 1.000 meters above sea level, Quan Ba Heaven’s Gate is the first gateway of Ha Giang to Dong Van Plateau. It owns the pretty magnificent scenery of the Northwest mountains. The most exciting thing is that Quan Ba Heaven’s Gate creates the feeling of bringing visitors up to the clouds to touch the sky, true to its inherent name.

Quan Ba Heaven’s Gate is associated with many historical events, especially military ones, such as the struggle between Vietnam and France to preserve the country. Therefore, during the war years, the gate had a wooden door built by the French to separate two ethnic groups, the Kinh and Hmong. However, presently due to severe weather conditions, that door was replaced by a large sign which makes Quan Ba heaven gate just a distance between two mountains. Even so, the landscape that you can observe from the Quan Ba Heaven’s Gate will take your breath away.

What to do, see: Climb to the top of the mountain to observe a breathtaking view of the Dong Van Plateau, and sightsee the vast valley of Quan Ba, offering the silent charm of the yellow ripped rice, the terraces, the houses of hill tribes, and Co Tien Twin Mountain, which is a natural work of art that makes a captivating poetic frame of clouds stretching all the way. Also, Quan Ba Heaven’s Gate is the first attraction in Ha Giang, so you can grab coffee and locally produced honey here after a long ride.

Lung Tam Weaving Village

Located not far from Quan Ba Heaven’s Gate, Lung Tam village is a small valley with a flowing through Miem river. It is also a home for Hmong people, who are seasoned professionals in textile art.

In the past, Lung Tam village was a typical village of the hill tribe. However, when the traditional trade seems to be extinct, one strong, smart woman appeared to save the craft and bring brocade linen products to the domestic and international markets. The name of this woman is Vang Thi Mai, the founder of The Linen Co-operative. Despite the traditions of hill tribes, where a woman’s role is limited to household matters, Mrs. Mai helps people continue to preserve and uphold traditional values and culture by bringing Lung Tam linen down the mountain, up to the city’s streets and then fled abroad.

Lung Tam Linen Commune

Linen weaving in Lung Tam is a traditional handicraft with a long history, not only bringing income to households in Lung Tam village but also contributing to preserving the traditional cultural values of Mong people. And thanks to one wonderful woman, the linen village of Lung Tam is now an unmissable authentic destination that attracts thousands of visitors.

Souvenirs at Lung Tam Commune

What to do, see: Coming to Lung Tam village, you can see beautiful Hmong batik hemp panels, hear stories about savior Mrs. Mai, who they are proud of, and linen development. Of course, you can also purchase hand-crafted hemp products with specific details, which have a particular meaning, as a souvenir. In addition to buying special gifts, you can also learn about the uniqueness of an old brocade-weaving village of Ha Giang mountain land and join in some parts of the 50 stages of waving linen.

Nho Que River

Nho Que River

Nho Que River is one of the deepest canyons in Southeast Asia and one of the unique geological formation valleys in Vietnam, which originates from the mountains of Nghiem Son (China), from an altitude of 1500m. Nho Que flows smoothly all year round through the majestic mountains with a poetic, mysterious, and fanciful beauty that you will find hard to leave.

In previous times, the Nho Que River was not as smooth as it is now and considered to serve the fishing purposes of the Ha Giang people only. However, since a hydroelectric project was built, water flows more smoothly. Moreover, after construction, locals opened boat trips on the river to help travelers explore Tu San Canyon, the deepest canyon in Southeast Asia.

What to do, see: Nho Que River is quite wide, therefore to fully admire the beauty of the Nho Que River, you can settle on the Ma Pi Leng pass to observe all the splendor of the river and the grandeur of nature Ha Giang. There are two stations leading to this blue river, one can be reached by foot, one by bike. Make sure when traveling to Ha Giang, you can try to mingle with nature on the Nho Que river and combine a Tu San canyon visit, which will bring exciting experiences.

Meo Vac Market

Since Ha Giang is the home for various ethnic groups, to explore local culture, the best way to do it is to shop like the locals at their markets. It is highly recommended to visit the famous Meo Vac market, which is a museum about the lives of ethnic minorities in the borderland of Meo Vac. Every Sunday, all minority groups will come there to hold the market in the middle of the district’s central town, which makes a good chance for you to survey locals’ culture and lifestyle. It is also a fantastic venue to see the ancient bartering of remote ethnic people in Ha Giang. It is unknown when the Meo Vac market was formed, but every Sunday at dawn, people are eagerly dragging each other down to the market at crossroads. Going to the market has become an indispensable cultural feature of Meo Vac people in particular and Ha Giang highlands in general. After those hard-working days, the market day is also the time for ethnic minorities to go to the market, to purchase necessities for daily life. Also, it is a very important need, exchanging with each other. This is a rather special value of the Meo Vac upland market, different from the lowland markets. It is a mental factor characteristic that you do not want to miss.

What to do, see: There you can walk through stalls that are divided into 2 sections: outdoor and indoor markets selling everything, starting from mobile phones to livestock.

On the livestock section you can see little piglets, goats, chicken, ducks and even puppies sold along the street. Not far from this section, you can also find a cattle market, where locals inspect water buffaloes or cattle on sale. Besides, you can watch how the various parts of the animals are checked before a sale is completed.

What is most fascinating is that here you will get treated to some interesting views, such as locals walking a piglet with a lead, men carrying a couple of chicken holding their feet, motorbikes passing where the chicken are hanging with their feet down the handle, or having to share a cage at the back of the bike with a dog. However, if you are not a fan of such views, you can move to the indoor market, another area to explore local culture. There, you can find a few food stalls with the fireplaces preparing food, which make a great sight. It is a nice place to have a cheap, uncommon delectable breakfast.

Best time to visit

The best time to visit Ha Giang is in dry season: from early October to late April

October: It is the time when the paddy field turns yellow, which is stunningly beautiful. Also, it is interesting to see local ethnics in their colorful dresses happily harvesting the rice, putting it in the sack and transporting home. It is recommended that you should visit Hoang Su Phi’s terraced paddy fields during this time of the year.

November: The northern plateau is covered by the purple of buckwheat flowers, the symbolic flower of Dong Van. Sidenotes: This is also the time of “Buckwheat flower festival”, therefore a large number of tourists will flock into Ha Giang, and the whole plateau suddenly becomes crowded. Reservations should be made at least a week prior to the trip.

December – mid January: It is when rapeseed flowers blooms. The weather gets really cold, and the wind is chilly. There might be snow-if you are lucky enough, which is amazingly beautiful, but also quite rare in a tropical country like Vietnam.

Late January – February: It’s the end of a Lunar year, and the beginning of a new one. The people of Ha Giang celebrate Tet, too, just like any other Vietnamese, and all tourists are welcomed to join. You’ll have a good chance to learn the culture and traditions in the most natural way.

March: When the mountains of Ha Giang enter springtime, the landscape is full of life with numerous kinds of different species of flower bloom at its fullest beauty, most notably the pink color of peach blossom, and the white of plum flower, along with their nice fragrance. Many spring festivals are held, such as Buffalo fighting, Horse racing, Long Tong (the festival of Tay ethnics people to pray for a good crop and bountiful harvest).

April: It is the time when the local people water the terraced paddy fields so they look like giant mirrors, which is breathtakingly beautiful. The weather in April is also warmer, which makes trekking and biking more pleasant. It is also the time when the famous Khau Vai love market festival is held.

How to get to Ha Giang

Located northwest of Ha Noi, without an airport or railroad connected, the most recommended form of transportation is bus, which is surprisingly cheap, from 8 to 13$ for a ticket, depending on departure time and how comfortable the bus is. It would take 6 to 8 hours to get to Ha Giang.

Travel in Ha Giang : Of course, it is possible to travel in Ha Giang by bus or private car, but I strongly recommend to hire yourself a bike, so that you can stop at any point of your adventure, and take a snapshot of the breathtakingly beautiful nature of Ha Giang

Some alternative route to Ha Giang: Beside the main road of QL2 straight from Hanoi to Ha Giang, Ha Giang can be accessed from the nearby attractions such as Sa Pa, Ba Be Lake or Cao Bang.

From Sa Pa: The border road from Sa Pa, via QL4D through Lao Cai City – Muong Khuong- Si Ma Cai – Xin Man (Coc Pai)- Hoang Su Phi Ha Giang. You can also take a detour to visit the beautiful town of Bac Ha, which is only 10km from the main road, or take a half-day, or a full-day trekking in Thong Nguyen or around the Kiou Leou Ti mountain in Hoang Su Phi.

From Ba Be Lake: There are two options: From Ba Be to Yen Phu town of Bac Me, then take a detour to Du Gia Commune of Yen Minh – a famous destination for trekking and Meo Vac town to start the famous Ha Giang Loop via DT176 and DT182, or straight to Ha Giang City via QL34.

How many mountainous areas in Vietnam have you visited? Please tell us, we would love to hear from you. Get prepared with more tips and travel plans in Vietnam at Eviva’s blog or contact our travel consultant for more support.

Writers: Pham Thi Nhat Le and Nguyen Le Hai

Source: https://blog.evivatour.com/ha-giang-things-you-should-know-before-visiting/

[anothergracekellyblog]

Taken from Good Housekeeping, May 1977

A noted novelist visits Princess Grace and finds laughter and tears beneath her serene armor of “glacial perfection.”

The Other Princess Grace by Budd Schulberg

When I was invited to write the scenario for a television special on the life of Princess Grace of Monaco, my gut reaction was: What an odd bit of casting. I write about prizefighters, brawny longshoremen, the fight for survival in the inner cities. I root for underdogs.

Princess Grace wasn't exactly my idea of an underdog. Her father was rich and she is immaculately beautiful. Her career from Philadelphia to New York to Hollywood to Monaco seemed to be up, up, up to the top of the mountain. For a child of Hollywood who had been raised with - and, accordingly, took a rather dim view of - movie stars, and of establishments in general (from film moguls to European royalty), a pilgrimage to the crystal chandelier world of Princess Grace Patricia Kelly Grimaldi of Monte Carlo would not seem to be my cup of tea, or should I say, my Venetian glass of champagne.

Is that a nice way to talk about a princess? A princess, especially an American born princess, is the stuff and the fluff of fairy tales. Hans Christian Andersen (with an assist from F. Scott Fitzgerald) should be writing this story instead of a follower of the fight game, a self-appointed expert on Muhammad Ali.

But it's a little late in the day for Andersen or Fitzgerald. And so...

Once upon a time there was a beautiful Irish-American girl whose grandfather had sailed as an immigrant boy in search of his fortune in the New World. If we had told John Henry Kelly as he stepped off the gangplank of a creaky old sailing ship in Boston that his granddaughter would return to the Old World and become the Princess Grace married to Rainier III and help to rule a sovereign principality from a 200-room palace that is one of the most majestic living museums in all Europe, that sturdy greenhorn would have put us in our place.

Grandfather Kelly made his way in the green world of 19th-century New England. His sons moved on to Philadelphia, where they prospered. Patrick, the oldest, made a success of the construction business and Grace's father, Jack Kelly, went to work for him as a hod-carrier and a bricklayer. A fierce second-generation competitor, Jack thrived on work. He could lay bricks fast and make money fast and row fast - somehow he found time before and after work to train for hours every day in a racing shell on the Schuylkill river and to become the national sculling champion. Wife Margaret was an ideal mate, not just a successful magazine cover girl but an athlete, too: the first co-ed physical education teacher at the University of Pennsylvania. “Way ahead of her time,” Princess Grace would reminisce, “the completely well-rounded modern woman. Now there's someone you could do a special on!”

We were sitting with her in the drawing room of the Grimaldi’s Paris townhouse in a courtyard of lovely old houses just off the Avenue Foch. When we rang the buzzer, she came to the door herself, with a warm and easy welcome to Bill Allyn, who would produce the TV special. Allyn had been a friend of hers from live television days in the early 1950's when they were both young actors scrounging around New York for work.

I was pleasantly surprised at the informality. No liveried servants, no bowing or scraping. Dressed in slacks and a light brown sweater with another shade of brown sweater over it, she might have been a suburban housewife in her late thirties, an especially pretty housewife. Marvelous eyes, marvelous nose, marvelous bones, marvelous skin. Yet neither in dress nor in manner anyone's conception of a fairy-tale princess. More like the girl next door, albeit the beautiful girl next door, 20 years later. I had pictured the cool grace of the Hitchcock movies and palace receptions. Instead, in a most friendly manner she led us into the drawing room, tastefully furnished but lived-in and warm. A big old dog called Andy bounded at her side. Chatting and reminiscing with Bill, she was shy and diffident with me, a watchful stranger. But quicker to laugh than I would have expected.

Spread on the coffee table were snapshots of a recent family trip to the Sahara. "I'm the family photographer," she said. "I really think these are pretty good, don't you?"

She picked one out, a moody sandscape relieved in the distance by what looked like an oblong glass. A mirage, she said proudly. "That's awfully hard to get. Rainier didn’t seem so impressed. But even when you can see it with the naked eye, it's tricky to pick up with a camera."

We asked about her family, the Philadelphia Kellys. Jack Kelly Sr. had been a driving spirit whose motto in life was, "I don't care what you do but whatever it is, don't just be good at it, be the best!"

He had gone to England's Henley Regatta to race in the Diamond Sculls, but had been forbidden to enter because he had the hands of a working man. "This is an event for gentlemen." A generation later, the Kelly family had gone to England to cheer Grace's brother "Kell" on as he won the cup that had been denied his father.

"There aren't any words that can do justice to my feelings." Father Kelly had said. "I feel a tremendous sense of pride for Kell. He's the one that matters, not the thwarted ambitions of an old guy who once got his fingers publicly burned over here because he was born without a silver spoon in his mouth."

"It must have been a heavy load," I said to Princess Grace, "to keep up with the Kellys, to keep up with yourself - to be the best."

She crossed her legs and thought a moment, as if there were still a challenge in the question, some lingering sense of childhood hurt. We had heard from friends that not only had she been a shy child, but rather sickly, too - unlike her outgoing, tomboyish older and younger sisters. She liked to stay in her room and read, draw, sew and dream, try to turn her introspection into poetry.

"Yes, it was - it is - a heavy load," Princess Grace said. The silence that followed seemed to hold its own inaudible sentences: Loads are to be carried. Burdens are to be borne. Challenges are to be met. And overcome. You could almost hear the convent sisters teaching her character with a stinging ruler. And the voice of Jack Kelly Sr. echoed in the room: "Be the best, Grace Patricia, be the best!"

UNCLE WON PULITZER

The mood changed suddenly when we talked of her two theatrical uncles: Walter Kelly toured the vaudeville stages of the world as "The Virginia Judge," and the famous playwright of the 1920's, George Kelly, won the Pulitzer Prize for Craig's Wife. Grace warmed to his memory. "I think Uncle George was a great American playwright, but there's a whole new generation that doesn't know him as well as I wish they did. He knew his people. Exactly how they talked and what they felt. Both The Torchbearers and The Show-Off are wonderful plays, human, funny and moving. In his preface to The Show-Off, the great humorist Heywood Broun wrote, ‘This is the best comedy yet written by an American.’”

Then it was Uncle George who influenced you to go into the theater?" She thought a moment.

"We were always doing plays. I was Cinderella in my sister Peggy's play when I was twelve, and I had a part in an Old Academy Players production in our hometown, called Don't Feed the Animals. I did Peter Pan as our graduation play at Stevens - but we were talking about Uncle George."

Clearly, of the two theatrical careers, she was much more at ease with George's than Grace's. "Uncle George was one of the most fascinating men I ever met. He could remember every poem he ever read. He loved poetry and language and the theater. He could recite favorite poems all night long. So wise, witty, human - there was simply no one like him in the whole world."

I had once been aware of, and then half-forgotten, the George Kelly-Grace Kelly family relationship. Certainly I hadn't realized until now what a driving force it has been in her life.

Then, with both of them remembering lines from another of Uncle George's plays, Behold, the Bridegroom, Bill Allyn and Grace (for she was all actress now and not at all princess) fell to reminiscing about those live shows they had done in what is now looked back on nostalgically as "the Golden Age of television": Studio One, Lights Out, Philco, The Kraft Playhouse. They were both talking at once. "Those were really insane days... absolutely hysterical... things are so much more ordered now, on film or tape, but live, going on in front of all those viewers... how did we ever get through it?"

"It was like living on the edge of a precipice!" Grace was laughing. "I'll never forget one time I was playing a scene in bed with all my clothes on under the covers so I'd be ready to run into the next scene dressed. But the camera didn't stop in time and they didn't cut away, so there I was, on the screen getting out of bed with all my clothes on!"

Now she and Bill were trading bloopers. She was up on her feet, standing in front of the mantel, trying to stop from laughing so she could demonstrate a dreadful mishap in The Cricket On The Hearth. "It was supposed to be snowing and a wonderful English character man and I were coming to bring an orphanage a hot pie for Christmas. The prop men were throwing salt down but we were told to walk close to the window under the eaves, so it wouldn't actually fall on us, because there we'd be with snow on our costumes that wouldn't melt when we got inside. We were to wave through the window, and the pie was too hot. So I set it down and the old actor stepped in it. He came limping into the place with half the pie spread over his shoe. "Look what we brought you - this nice, hot pie - Merry Christmas!"

INFECTIOUS LAUGHTER

As I listened to her laugh, I thought of all the people who had warned me about her "glacial perfection." But the laughter was infectious - from a real live girl with an appealing, self-deprecating sense of humor.

She was still getting money from home in those early theatrical days, but that streak of independence led her into modeling to pay for the acting classes. Before she was 19, she was earning enough to move out of the Barbizon Hotel for women and into her own apartment. A nesting sort of person, she enjoyed fixing up the place.

"Remember giggle belly?" Allyn said.

"Giggle belly!" Again Grace laughed as she tried to describe this silly game. A group of young actors would lie on the floor with their heads on each other's stomachs and tell funny stories that would make their heads bounce up and down as their bellies giggled. "We did a lot of silly things," they both agreed. "And we all laughed a lot. But along with the fun there was hard work... "

"Like Strindberg's The Father," we prompted.

That was Grace's Broadway debut, with her name in small print under the starred names of Raymond Massey and Mady Christians. Grace still says she only got the role because both stars were tall and her rivals for the part were all too short. "Nonsense,” says Raymond Massey. "She got the part because she showed the most promise. All through the rehearsal period we were impressed with her earnestness, her professionalism and her good manners. She was organized and dedicated. Between rehearsals she would ask Mady if she could sit in her dressing room and talk about the theater. She was a delight to have in the company. A rare kind of young person who had a hunger to learn and to improve herself."

"It ran only a short time," Grace said, "but it was wonderful experience."

Young Grace Kelly soon became a favorite cover girl, so it was inevitable that Hollywood would tap her on the shoulder - Hollywood personified in the ebullient, English-fracturing Russian director, Gregory Ratoff, who screen tested her for a somewhat less than immortal film entitled Taxi.

The Taxi story turns out to be another funny bit. I'm not studying her anymore, I'm laughing with her. It has ceased being a job and has become a vacation.

The role in Taxi, she told us, called for an Irish brogue. Although her name was Kelly, she sounded not at all like forebears from County Mayo. More like a proper Philadelphian. But, like any aspiring actress, she assured Mr. Ratoff that the brogue was no problem. Then she ran home to ask how one went about acquiring an overnight brogue.

"One of my friends had a maid just ονer from Ireland I hurried oνer to listen to her speak. But she was too shy to open her mouth. I'd ask questions to try and get her talking, and all she'd say was, ‘Yes, Mum,’ or ‘No, Mum.’ So I handed her the newspaper and asked if she'd mind reading it out loud. The poor girl finally admitted that she could hardly read. I put together what thought might pass for a brogue - and flunked the screen test."

But Grace Kelly had what Frances Fuller, head of the American Academy, described as, "A very special quality. Also the face of a Grecian goddess, but it was that extra something that is more than beauty, some special poise, an inner light."

When her New York agent, Edith Van Cleve, described that "special quality" to Jay Kanter, a youthful but influential Hollywood agent, brogue or no brogue, Kelly was movie bound.

AGAIN THE PRINCESS

"You must be getting hungry?" was Grace's answer to the first question about Hollywood. “If it's alright with you, I've made a reservation at a club nearby - the food is quite good." She rose briskly. Suddenly she seemed the princess - a gracious, down-to-earth princess, but clearly in command. Now it was difficult to imagine her ever playing "giggle belly" or impersonating an old actor with a meat pie on his shoe.

A blonde, middle-aged, bejeweled houseguest materialized. A friend from Grace's Philadelphia days. Having lived at least four different lives in four different times, places and worlds, Grace cultivates a capacity for not losing touch with anyone of them.

There was a waiting chauffeur and limousine. The princess asked us if we'd prefer to walk. The gentlest of commands. People who recognized her pretended not to, as if they understood that she preferred it that way.

We were ushered to a round table in a corner of the Club Rothschild with the most muted of fanfare. Luncheon conversation was easy but disjointed because Grace's houseguest was something of a dangling participle to a life story I was trying to piece together. It was like a flashback to Philadelphia adolescence while I waited to move forward to Hollywood early maturity. The princess was being the perfect hostess, somehow managing to talk old times with her hometown friend and films and filmmakers with us. On her way out, I noticed that fellow members of the club stepped back or moνed to one side so they could gain a clear view without being ostentatious. She pretended not to notice.

Back in the comfortable and now familiar drawing room, we were returning to the Hollywood of my youth. After an uneventual role in a forgotten movie called Fourteen Hours, Grace was on her way to the most remarkable five-year career in the history of motion pictures. A mouthful of a statement, but there it is. In 60 months, a classically photogenic face, the stamina of a marathon runner, an obsessive drive for self-improvement and a little bit of luck that was parlayed into great gobs of luck by the power of the will, swept Grace Kelly from obscure starlet to international star.

The luck began when Jay Kanter "sold" her to producer Stanley Kramer and director Fred Zinnemann for High Noon. In her big scene, she is finally driven to pick up a rifle and kill the fourth outlaw to save her husband, played by Gary Cooper, after Cooper has dispatched the other three.

A nomination for Best Supporting Actress in Mogambo didn't convince her that she was all that good in it. "I really wasn't," she said straightforwardly. "I was lucky. I was in awfully good hands. I was new in the business."

To master film technique, so different from either live television or the theater, was a challenge. "Be the best!" was echoing in the hall again. But from the outset Grace Kelly was a different cut from the lovely blonde starlets so overjoyed and overwhelmed by Hollywood. With her two sisters to keep her company, she stayed at that Sunset Boulevard relic of lost elegance, the Chateau Marmont. She would only sign her seven-year contract at MGM with the provision that she could go back to New York and the theater every other year. Remembering her as a star on the rise 25 years ago, agents, producers, directors, fellow actors and friends all draw a consistent picture of a girl with a steel trap mind who could not be dissuaded once she set that mind on what she wanted to do.

LUCK AND WILL

Now the Kelly luck embraced the Kelly will: the screen test that had failed her in her quest for a role in Taxi impressed that crustiest of critics, John Ford, who cast her in Mogambo - a remake of Red Dust, with Grace playing the Mary Astor role of the genteel but adulterous wife, Ava Gardner taking on Jean Harlow's "Honey Bear" and Clark Gable repeating the role he had created in the original. Two more disparate ladies than Ms. Kelly and Ms. Gardner could hardly be imagined, but they got on surprisingly well. Ava threw tantrums while Grace tended to her lines and her knitting. Frank Sinatra, in Africa for a visit with his unpredictable Ava, pronounced Grace Kelly the squarest of the squares. Even when columnists hinted out loud that Graces love scenes with Gable were unusually convincing. Grace never lost her Kelly cool.

Back in Hollywood for the Mogambo interiors. Grace and fellow-actress Rita Gam found an unpretentious apartment on Sweetzer Avenue. A pair of hard working bachelor girls, they were an odd couple: the cool golden girl who all ways seemed to have her emotions in check and the dark, exotic beauty whose emotions kept spilling over, "We both kept falling in love with the wrong men,” Rita remembers.

But if there were emotional frustrations and dead ends, the Kelly career kept climbing smoothly upward. The same, now-famous test that Ratoff and 20th Century-Fox had thumbed down caught the eye of another film master, Alfred Hitchcock. There was Dial M for Murder opposite Ray Milland, Rear Window opposite Jimmy Stewart and To Catch A Thief vis-a-vis Cary Grant.

With top directors Zinnemann, Ford and Hitchcock and leading men Cooper Gable and Grant, could a girl ask for anything more? If her name is Grace Kelly, the answer is yes.

We were still sitting in the Paris townhouse, but our minds were now focused on The Country Girl. The Clifford Odets Broadway hit was to be done as a film Every female star in town was after the role of the drunken actor's wife, described by Odets as "the broom behind the door." Grace knew that this was a part that could prove she wasn't just an elegant clotheshorse.

But winning that role was one of the longer shots in the Hollywood sweepstakes. In the first place, MGM, her "home studio," didn't want to loan her out. In the second place, Paramount and the producers of The Country Girl - wanted a bigger name to match the star male leads, William Holden and Bing Crosby. And, finally, even Crosby, looking for all the help he could get in playing a complex and difficult dramatic role, expressed his doubts that the elegant Kelly girl could handle a part so totally out of character for her.

The more opposition, the greater the determination. Grace told Jay Kanter and Lew Wasserman, representing the sinew and brains of the powerful agency that represented her, that they had to get Metro to release her for the role. She had to get this part. Otherwise, she was ready to go on suspension, quit Hollywood and return to New York to concentrate on the theater.

Thus are Hollywood legends born. For the screen test, Edith Head, whose mantelpiece is a parade ground for Best Costume Oscars, and who had dressed Grace in dazzling gowns for those high fashion movies, now helped Grace completely transform herself into the worn and weary country girl. And in the film, which she subsequently made, it wasn't just an outward change. She gave a performance from the inside such as she had never given before. At the end of the first week, a convinced Bing Crosby said, "I'll never open my big mouth again!"

It was Oscar time and Grace was nominated for Best Actress. But everybody agreed that Judy Garland had a lock on the little statue - the sentimental favorite making a dramatic comeback (on and of the screen) in the musical remake of A Star Is Born. But when Bill Holden opened the envelope on the stage of the Pantages Theater, we heard: "And the winner is . . . Grace Kelly!"

That same night Marlon Brando won his Oscar for On The Waterfront. While they posed together, swarming photographers shouted, "Kiss Marlon, Grace! Go ahead, kiss him!”

Suddenly Miss Kelly was from Philadelphia and the Stevens School, and her father was Jack Kelly, Sr. and her uncle was George Kelly, who had won a prize she respected perhaps even more, the Pulitzer. "Don't you think he should kiss me?” asked Grace Patricia, looking cool and elegant in aquamarine satin. On she swept to a party at Romanoff's - the girl who had everything. "Miss Perfect," people were calling her, some in awe and some inspite

"How did it feel?” I asked her in Paris.

Another long pause. "I was unhappy. Now I had fame, but you find that fame is awfully empty if you don't have someone to share it with."

As she sat there remembering that triumphant and lonely night, I found myself thinking of a note that F. Scott Fitzgerald had written to himself while preparing to write his heroine Kathleen in The Last Tycoon: "People simply do not identify with people who have all the breaks. I must endow this girl with a little misfortune.” I was beginning to find it in the girl who had everything.

Meanwhile, back at the Palace...

In 1955, the principality of Monaco was not the flourishing place it is today. The casino was run-down, the ancient palace itself in disrepair. Aristotle Onassis, George Schlee and Gardner Cowles were meeting to discuss how to save it.

Running the troubled affairs of Monaco for seven years, already in his mid-30's and still a bachelor, Prince Rainier III knew he must find a suitable wife with whom to share his life and the duties of the principality. Remembering his own unhappy childhood (a broken home at age six, lonely and disoriented at a British boarding school), Rainier insisted he would not make a marriage of convenience.

LOVE STORY OF THE CENTURY

And so the stage is set for what the press of the world called, "The love story of the century." The Prince had met Grace casually in Monaco when she attended a showing of To Catch A Thief the year before. Now he came to Hollywood on a visit less casual. Then went on to Philadelphia to meet her family.

I begin to ask direct questions and get surprisingly (although less surprised now than when I first met her) direct answers.

"Did you ask your parents for permission to marry Rainier?"

"No, I made up my own mind. I had asked them once or twice before and it hadn't worked out. This time I knew I had to make my own decision."

In fact, Father Kelly disapproved of the match. Rainier seemed like a nice fellow. But European princes are notorious playboys. And she'd be an American living far away in a foreign land.

I took a breath. “Princess Grace, do you mind if I ask you a very personal question?"

"Well, suppose not."

"I'm trying to put myself in your place. Every writer has to do that. It must have been a terribly difficult moment. You were marrying a man you barely knew… going off to a strange world… knowing as a member of your church there was no turning back. Giving up a film career on your way to becoming a superstar - you must have felt... well, how did you feel as you went up that gangplank?"

This time the pause was so long that I thought she resented my question too much to answer. She stared at the floor. When she looked up, her eyes were wet. If she had glacial perfection, the glacier was melting. She spoke quietly, with total simplicity:

"The day we left, our ship was surrounded in fog. And that's the way I felt - as if I were sailing off into the unknown. I had been through several unhappy romances. And although I had become a star, I was feeling lost and confused. I didn't want to drift into my thirties without knowing where I was going in my personal life."

As if she had been conceived by Scott Fitzgerald, here she was, endowed with a certain misfortune.

"I guess I'm a homebody at heart, she was saying. But I didn't have a home. Rainier came into my life at just the right moment. I needed someone who wouldn't be Mr. Grace Kelly. I could see that Rainier was a dedicated man. He had liberal ideas for making the principality more than a playground. While life on board ship must have seemed to the world like one continuous party, I couldn't help looking out into the fog and wondering: ‘What is going to happen to me? What will this new life be like?’ I had never met his family, except for his father, I must say he was wonderfully supportive. But I had no idea how the rest of the family, and the Court, would accept me. What sort of world was waiting for me on the other side of that fog?"

A friend said to Princess Grace, "But it was such a gorgeous wedding. The loveliest royal wedding of the century. European royalty. World celebrities. And so beautifully organized."

Now Princess Grace laughed.

WEDDING SHEER CHAOS

"Chaos! Fifteen hundred invited guests. And most of them wanting extra tickets for the balls and the dinners and the two weddings, first the civil one in the throne room of the palace, then the religious one in the cathedral. The weather was foul. And more journalists than they had covering D-Day. The language barriers! And the palace wasn't ready to be lived in yet. Sheer chaos!"

Bridesmaids, including Rita Gam, remember it as the most romantic time of their lives. But for Princess Grace the summer was long and hot. There was resentment from the traditionalists. What was an American, and from Hollywood at that, doing in their palace? Rainier understood the difficulty of the transition and was of great help to her But there were times, Grace admits, when she would stroll the palace walkway and wonder....

But time is a patient teacher. "Once Caroline was born, and then Albert, I began to feel my roots in Monaco. I was finally beginning to master the language, by osmosis. You might say I worked from the inside out. Now that I had my new family around me, I could move outside the palace into the community."

Once she got her bearings, Grace of Monaco became the most active princess the principality has ever had. Realizing that the local hospital was run down, she found ways to modernize it. She founded a daycare center and enlarged the old people's home. "She brought us heart," an old man says.

"She brought the palace back to life," says a staff member. "Inviting the children of the village into the throne room for a Christmas party. And the flowers everywhere. The Garden Club that grew into an International Flower Arranging Festival. The Children’s Village she set up through the Monegasque Red Cross to help keep together children of the same family who have lost their parents. Bazaars promoting the arts and crafts of Monaco. Using the courtyard of the palace as a natural stage for the International Arts Festival."

I was standing in the courtyard of this ancient castle, with its gracefully winding stairway. The chief of the secretariat was speaking with an enthusiasm he had drawn from Princess Grace. "She wants the palace to be used, to be alive, to help make the world more beautiful. Nureyev has danced here, and Danny Kaye has entertained, and the Paris Opera Ballet, Yehudi Menuhin, the Mexican Ballet Folklórico... She's brought a special quality to the palace that enriches the life of the principality. That's why we love to work with her. She gets up early and never stops.

"It's not just because she's our princess,” says Paul Choisit, the former consul for Monaco in New York, who now runs the secretariat, "I think she's the most unusual person I've ever known And with all the demands on her, the official duties, she still manages to save a great deal of time to share with her children. It's a known fact throughout the principality that Caroline, Albert and Stephanie are blessed with a supporting and loving mother."

I'm back at the townhouse in Paris, having returned from the old-world new-day atmosphere of the palace. We're talking of the ballet school I’ve toured (where teenage ballerinas are schooled by masters), through which Grace of Monaco hopes to restore to its former grandeur the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. The phone rings and it's Arthur Rubinstein. The phone rings again. It's Moscow. The International Television Festival is coming up and her staff has been at work on it, reaching out to renowned guest artists to appear at the gala after the awards. Monaco's Festival, far purer than the now corrupted Film Festival in Cannes, gives awards for such shows as the best on protection of the environment and best children's program, as judged by children themselves.

I see that Grace Kelly of Philadelphia, daughter of self-made millionaire Jack, niece of the Fabulous Uncle George, has found her way through the fog to a creative world she has made for herself on the other side.

As Hans Christian Andersen might have said, "And so the princess lived happily - and busily - ever after."

[newyorktheater]

Nick Cordero from his memorial tribute. See “One of the Great Ones” group video below.

Week in Reviews. Week in Theater News. Week in Theater Videos.

#Stageworthy News of the Week.

The Fall season has officially begun, but the theater season is shaping up as the most unusual, certainly the most uncertain,  in our lifetimes. A major difference: It’ll unfold day by day…and, for the foreseeable future, it’ll do so almost entirely online.

“There’s so much I don’t know,” Adam Greenfield, the incoming artistic director of Playwrights Horizons, told Alexis Soloski in the New York Times. (There’ll Be a Theater Season. But How and Where and When?)

This week will mark six months since theater buildings were shut down. As other arts and cultural venues are already starting to reopen, the smart money is  on another six months — at least — before theaters do.

“The earliest estimates for some of New York’s concert halls and theaters to resume are spring 2021; a few new productions, such as “The Music Man” with Hugh Jackman and “Plaza Suite” with Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker, have announced early spring beginnings on Broadway. Even so, those involved in the planning say privately that it could be autumn 2021 before venues reopen,” writes Peter Marks in an article in the Washington Post detailing the unexpected complexity of reopening. (New York City can’t rebound without Broadway. And Broadway’s road back is uncertain,  accompanied by a depressing photograph)

Still, if the buildings are shut, theater itself has not only continued; by going online, it has expanded its reach: “Arts organizations are reporting massive increases in online audiences driven by viewers and participants who have never set foot inside their buildings,” Hannah Grannemann concludes in an Arts Journal blog, after looking at the numbers.

There is good reason to assume this will continue, and there will be a season, however unorthodox. The New York Theatre Workshop  is handing over the budget to “artistic instigators” and asking the audience to follow along with their works-in-progress whatever and whenever it might be. The Alliance Theater of Atlanta announced its 2020-2021 season as a mix of drive-in theater, radio plays, shows on a new streaming platform. But however different from past years, season announcements have begun — Steppenwolf’s, the National Black Theater’s 52nd season

Meanwhile, there is enough theater opening in September to fill my monthly  calendar.

September 2020 Theater Openings: What’s streaming day by day

  The Week in Reviews

Love in the Time of Corona on FreeForm. A lesson for theater?

Composers Their Lives and Works. Where are Broadway, Black composers?

The Week in Theater News

Labor Day Rally by “arts workers” in Times Square, 2020

Times Square rally

Labor Day took on new significance for the theater community demonstrations across the country, and in Times Square, in support of relief for arts workers. (See video by cast members of “Rent” below.)

DAWN Act (Defense of Arts Works Now) bill writer Matthew-Lee Erlbach, in less urgent days

Rallying to Save the Arts: He turned from playwriting to bill writing

The Line Arjun Gupta as emergency room physician

To The Bone,2014: Liza Fernandez, Annie Henk and Lisa Ramirez working in the poultry plant

Jay Armstrong Johnson as a firefighter, one of the 26 characters by six actors in the 2012 revival of “Working,” a musical co-conceived by Stephen Schwartz (“Wicked”) and based on Stud Terkel’s book of the same name.

Will there now be more theater about workers?

On past Labor Days, I’ve asked: Where are the American plays about unions, or workers, or even just workplaces? But now that “arts workers” have turned Labor Day into an #ArtsWorkersUnited Day of Action, the question becomes: Will COVID-19, the shutdown of theaters, and the strident new labor consciousness of the theater community change what we see on stage?

Without Rent Relief, 60 Percent of NYC’s Independent Theaters May Close for Good

The owner of the Hilton Times Square Hotel, a 478-room hotel on 42nd Street one block from the “crossroads of the world,” said it would close permanently next month

The 2020 Henry Hewes Design Awards are  Paul Steinberg, Judgment Day (Scenic Design), Anita Yavich, Soft Power (Costumes), Isabella Byrd, Heroes of the Fourth Turning (Lighting) and Nikiya Mathis, Stew (Hair and Wigs). In two new categories, the winners are Justin Ellington, Heroes of the Fourth Turning (Sound) and Hannah Wasileski, Fires in the Mirror (Media). The Hewes committee also awarded a special citation to the design team for María Irene Fornés’ Fefu and Her Friends.

The Francesca Primus Prize for an emerging woman playwright goes to Stephanie Alison Walker for The Madres, a drama of Argentina’s “dirty war” of 1978

Can Greek Tragedy Get Us Through the Pandemic?

Theater of War Productions  has spent years bringing catharsis to the traumatized. In the coronavirus era, that’s all of us.

Duch the mass murderer

Frances Jue as Comrade Duch in Cambodian Rock Band

 Kaing Guek Eav, the former schoolteacher who became Duch the mass murderer died at age 77. He was the real-life character that inspired Cambodian Rock Band.

Gene Norman, 85, Who Helped Landmark Broadway Theaters, and thus saved them

The Week in Theater Videos

The cast of Rent Sings “Will I?” with Arts Workers for Federal Relief

“One of the Great Ones,” a song from A Bronx Tale The Musical, was part of the two-hour tribute of Nick Cordero’s life, on Broadway on Demand.

Invictus, a stirring new composition by Anthony Barfield for a 15-piece brass ensemble, is an anthem for New York City in this unique moment in time. The work pays tribute to the resilience of this city and its people, reflecting hope and the anticipation of a better future on the horizon.

The cast of the 2019 stage production “Hercules” sings “Go the Distance” as part of the 2020 National Association of Black Journalists (NABJ) and National Association of Hispanic Journalists (NAHJ) virtual convention,

The Fall Season. Nick Cordero Tribute. #ArtsWorkersUnite #Stageworthy News Week in Reviews. Week in Theater News. Week in Theater Videos. #Stageworthy News of the Week.

[ellerobinson-blog1]

A love story against all odds After a whirlwind teenage romance. 

I Remember It Well from the musical Gigi affectionately captures that habit many long-standing couples slip into of offering slightly different versions of the key events of their courtship. "We met at nine/We met at eight/I was on time/No, you were late". And that is what Celeste Dandeker and Trevor Arnold are doing as they look back across almost five decades.

Their first date was a ball organised by his boarding school in Bournemouth. "You wore black tie," she says. "Black suede boots," he adds, "and you were wearing a turquoise…" He pauses. "A turquoise what?" she prompts teasingly. His smile admits defeat. "It was a turquoise minidress that my mother had sent me," she reminds him. Their banter suggests a life lived well and happily – and together. Indeed, Trevor, 65, a retired civil servant, admits that is how it now seems to them. "It feels as if we have always been together, even if we haven't always known it." But, as that caveat hints, this is a love affair that didn't always run quite so smoothly. This will be only their 12th Valentine's Day as husband and wife. Behind the photographs of them as bright-eyed teenagers that are propped up on the bookshelves of their north London flat lurks a 30-year gap. That is when he married and raised a son and a daughter, and when Celeste, now 61, was making her name, first as a rising star of the London Contemporary Dance Theatre and then as the co-founder of the acclaimed CandoCo Dance Company, whose disabled and non-disabled dancers tour the globe and performed at both the Beijing and London Olympic closing ceremonies. The first chapter in this love-will-out tale ended with an amicable split in 1971. The second didn't begin until May 2001, when Trevor happened to read about her achievements in a newspaper and decided to seek her out once more. Five months later they were married. It all started in the summer of 1967, just as Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band was released. Celeste was 15 and a boarder at the Convent of the Cross in Bournemouth. Her older brother, Adrian, had promised to sort out a date for her so she could go to his school's summer ball. He enlisted his friend Trevor, just turned 19 and about to leave the neighbouring St Peter's School. "I remember picking you up from your school and I can still see us sitting side by side in the taxi," Trevor says. His George Harrison-lookalike moustache may now have gone, but there is a youthfulness to his face and demeanour. "And then when we went out for a breath of fresh air under a palm tree…" His gentlemanly euphemism makes Celeste giggle. She is slim, a gamine beauty with high cheekbones and innately graceful in that dancerly way. "He means a bit of a snog," she clarifies, in case I've missed it. For the two months left of that term, they met up every Saturday – the only day they were allowed out. There were trips to the cinema to see Dr Zhivago – back row of course. Then it was summer and he was off to a polytechnic while Celeste had another year at school. There were a few letters – "he used to write in green ink with a fountain pen," she recalls, "part of his rebellious streak" – but things fizzled out.

And that might have been that, a first love that had run its course, but for a chance meeting a year later. It was now September 1968 and Celeste had won a place at the recently founded London Contemporary Dance School, alongside future stars Siobhan Davies, Anthony Van Laast and Richard Alston. One lunch break, she was wandering through Berwick Street Market in Soho when she bumped into Trevor, who had started as a management trainee at Whiteleys department store. They had dinner and soon their romance was back on track. For a year and a half, they were love's young dream – Trevor watching Celeste in rehearsal, she going with him to see Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention at the Royal Festival Hall. But it was too much too soon. There was so much more of life to explore, she says, and the time not right to settle down. "We finished as friends," she says. This time it is Trevor who is more precise. "She chucked me." Once again, that might have been the end. He eventually married, settled in Sheffield and joined the Ministry of Labour. Meanwhile, she wowed the critics when she made her debut at 19 with London Contemporary Dance. Then tragedy struck when, on December 8 1973, she was on stage in Manchester performing in a piece called Stages. "There was a gymnastic section and I went to do a handspring forward over two men, but instead of turning over once, I did one and a half, and landed on my face not my feet," Celeste says. "I remember being carried into the wings, while the show went on. I knew I had done something bad. I spent the next three days in a hospital in Manchester where they told me I had broken my neck. It was only when I was moved to the spinal unit at Oswestry in Shropshire that they told me quite how serious it was." Her spinal cord had been severely damaged, leaving her unable to walk and with limited movement in her arms. She remained in Oswestry for seven months in rehabilitation. "Afterwards I wouldn't even think about teaching or choreographing or anything," she recalls. "I had no vision of how a disabled person could dance at the level I was used to, or whether you could even call what they could do dance at all." Instead, she qualified in costume design, and that was her link with the world of dance. Then, in 1989, when she was 38, an old friend, the choreographer Darshan Singh Bhuller, asked her if she would star in a 10-minute dance film for BBC Two called The Fall. He convinced her that, wheelchair or not, she could still perform. Suddenly a whole new set of possibilities opened up before her, and led in 1991 to her co-founding CandoCo. At home in Sheffield, Trevor watched The Fall. "It brought a tear to my eye," he admits. And as her world was taking off anew, did Celeste ever spare a thought for Trevor? "I always remembered his birthday each year – December 28 – and would wonder what had happened to him, but we had lost touch and that seemed to be that." Not so. Twelve years later, after his marriage had ended and his two children had grown up, Trevor was on a train to London with two colleagues when he read a newspaper article about Celeste's remarkable achievements (which have been recognised with first an MBE, then an OBE and later a De Valois Award for Outstanding Achievement in Dance). "I used to know that woman," he told his colleagues. "You should get back in touch," they told him. "I ummed and aahed," he remembers. "I wanted to, but then I worried about raking up the past, whether there was any point." But the thought just wouldn't go away, and so on his next trip to London, he looked up the address of CandoCo's offices and turned up on the doorstep in Islington, north London. But Celeste was at rehearsal rooms on the other side of town. The gods seemed to be against them. He left his card and wondered if she would remember him. Silence followed. He then followed up with a postcard while on a trip to Brussels. Still no reply. "I was away touring," she says, "and it took me a few days when I got back to work my way down to the bottom of my in-tray." When she did, she found Trevor's postcard and business card. "I picked up the phone straight away and recognised his voice at once when he answered." They started talking. It was June and he mentioned he was coming to London soon. She suggested he came over for dinner. "Chicken Marengo?" he suggests. "No, Basque chicken," she replies, "and you brought champagne and flowers." "And I wore my Jimi Hendrix T-shirt," he adds. Celeste had had significant relationships since splitting up with Trevor all those years before, including one that began before and lasted after her injury, but none that had finally worked out. "The one sadness in my life is that I never had children," she says. "Next time round perhaps. But I had my work and my family and my friends. I wasn't looking for anyone just then." Over dinner, though, they both realised that there was more drawing them together than just a shared past. A flame flickered back into life. However, the very next day Celeste was heading off to the Philippines for two weeks on a tour. When she got home there were two letters waiting for her on the doormat – "in black ink this time". They began to meet regularly and in August, Trevor proposed, not once – he had to ask her four times. "I think it was because I couldn't quite believe it," Celeste explains, "but of course I said yes. It seemed completely right." Why? "Well, part of it was because Trevor had known me before my accident." And that continuity matters to her because it means that he can see beyond her physical restrictions, see her as she sees herself. And did Celeste's disabilities in any way concern Trevor? "Not at all," he says without a blink. "It never came into my head. She was different from before in that she wasn't fully mobile, but I never dwelt on that. Sometimes there are practical challenges in doing what we want to do, but Celeste's disability doesn't stop us doing any of the things that any other couples do." On November 17 2001, five months after they had found each other again, Celeste and Trevor married at Wood Green Registry Office. He retired soon after and moved to be with her in London, spending the years that followed travelling with her and CandoCo. In 2007, she stood down as artistic director – though she remains founding patron. And that should be the happy ending, but there has been a cloud over their happiness these past six months, after Celeste was diagnosed with breast cancer. Following chemotherapy and radiotherapy, she is now on the mend. "If I hadn't had Trevor at my side," she reflects, "I don't know how I would have dealt with this as well." "When I remembered Trevor in those years we were apart," she says, "what I remembered was a lot of laughter. Now we have that again. I know it sounds odd, but I have come to see it, over the past 12 years, as something that was meant to be. It does feel as if we have always been together. He was my first love and he will be my last love." He smiles at her. "It was written…" he says simply.