the year of the rabbit

AFTER  A  FEROCIOUS  Year of the Tiger in 2010, a welcome calm is marked in 2011 by the Year of the Rabbit. The Chinese calendar is based on a combination of lunar and solar movements. New Year's Eve (February 2nd this year) and the first three days of the new year are the officially observed holiday in China. The majority of businesses (with the exception of movie theaters and restaurants) close for the celebration. The Chinese people return to work between the 5th and 8th day. New Year's Day is February 3rd this year, but the spirit of the celebration lasts through the 15th day Festival of Lanterns on February 17th.

THIS  TREE  symbolically holds a diminutive ceremonial tea for Chinese New Year. Last year a client of mine gifted me a collection of miniature cloisonne teapots from China. This year these beautiful ornaments complete a symbolic set of 11 ornaments (representing the year 2011), along with four recycled newsprint ornaments shaped like lanterns. Just thinking of a ceremonial cup of tea by the light of lanterns evokes the calm and placid mood symbolized by the rabbit. The idiom "tempest in a teapot" doesn't apply here.

CLOISONNE  ENAMEL  is also called the "Blue of Jingtai" in China. Blue is the dominant color used for enameling and cloisonne became popular during the reign of Jingtai (1450-1456) in the Ming dynasty in China. The cloisonne teapots are made by the process of applying enamel to the surface of a copper or bronze object, which is then fired to become a colorful work of art. The technique was spread to China from the West and perfected by Chinese artisans.

LIGHTED  LANTERNS  appear everywhere during the Chinese New Year celebration. Fireworks are also "lit" as  a big part of the festivities. The noise of fireworks is believed to wake up the dragon who will fly across the sky to bring spring rains. Some believe that the noise of the fireworks is supposed to scare away all evil spirits, preventing them from entering the new year. In fact, gunpowder was invented in China over 1,000 years ago for that very purpose. Firecrackers are thrown at the feet of the dragons in the celebratory parade to keep them awake, since they are believed to sleep the rest of the year.  

CHINESE  NEW  YEAR  is traditionally celebrated by a religious ceremony honoring heaven and earth, the gods of the household and thanksgiving. A sacrifice to ancestors is the most vital of all the Chinese New Year rituals. Family ancestors are honored by food and incense offerings to the gods. At midnight, the celebration really begins, as it does for any New Year celebration. Fireworks fill the sky and the streets are packed with people wishing each other a happy new year. The next morning, gifts are exchanged among family members and friends, including "lucky money" given to the children in a red envelope like the one seen in the photographs here.

THE  DEMEANOR of the rabbit is the symbol for a quiet and placid year to come. Few people are aware that the rabbit is the symbol of the moon, while the peacock is the symbol of the sun. Together, these two animal signs represent Yin and Yang. Pay particular attention to the full moon this year and you just might strengthen your inner "Chi" energy and bring wisdom into your life. Here's wishing everyone a happy calm and healthy prosperity in The Year of the Rabbit.

TEA TIME | (Top two photos) Cloisonne teapots direct from China (a gift from coworker Melinda Frost) decorate this tree celebrating Chinese New Year. 

LANTERN FESTIVAL | (Third photo) Repurposed newsprint cut into fantastic lantern shapes complete the tree and sets the mood for tea. The lanterns are distributed by Roost Home Furnishings. Mine were purchased this past holiday season at Star Provisions in Atlanta. 

GROUNDED RABBIT | (Fourth photo) A mercury glass rabbit ornament is  from this past season's offerings at West Elm. An asymmetrical manzanita branch "tree" bought at Homegoods is held upright in a faux bois cast stone container. You can learn more about the art of faux bois and Mexican artisan Dionicio Rodriguez from the book Capturing Nature, written by Patsy Pittman Light. Read about the Faux Bois sculptures of Dionicio Rodriguez here at Martha Stewart Home and Garden. 

WAKING DRAGON | (Bottom photo) an accordion garland made from printed paper backed by silver (from this past holiday season's David Stark Collection at West Elm) represents the undulating dragon. The ornament ball distributed by Roost Home Furnishings is meticulously made from dozens of rolled recycled paper cylinders that evoke the omnipresent fireworks marking the New Year in China (while keeping the dragon awake). The red envelope for "lucky money" completes the picture. 

©2011 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Photography, collecting and styling by Darryl Moland.
Location courtesy Devin Borden.

good eggs

WE  ALL  KNOW the answer when asked which came first, the chicken or the egg? The question and the answer are rhetorical. Eggs are the perfect symbols for spring. Before eggs were associated with Easter and the resurrection of Jesus; Chinese, Egyptians, Gauls, Persians, and Romans used eggs in their rite-of-spring festivals. They represented the Earth's rebirth after a long winter. Eggs are containers for new life. Humans even start out as an egg, but that, of course takes us back to the obvious.

GROWING  UP,  I have fond memories of the new suit for church-going on Easter Sunday every year, along with the candy-filled basket left by a mythical bunny. And of course I remember the gleeful Easter egg hunt in the fresh unmown grass. The confectioner's smell from jelly beans, marshmallow Peeps and chocolate bunnies permeated the air inside along with the fresh smells of tulip trees and other early blooming flowers outside. All are brought together in a heady gust stirred up by the brisk winds of spring. Change and new life are in the air. And a cleansing of our souls takes place.

AND  THE  LIGHT, it seems, is warmly beamed directly from heaven, coaxing things back to life again. That's what every spring becomes . . . a rebirth, however you choose to believe, it's undeniably intoxicating, life-giving and affirming. I'll leave you with these images, because as it is said, a picture is worth a thousand words. In the spirit of my favorite season, I created three times that here. These are some of my best, so I'll let them speak with their light.

When we live in darkness, our human life is a constant want.
When we live in Light, our divine life is a constant achievement.
Light in the physical is beauty.
Light in the vital is capacity.
Light in the mind is glory.
Light in the heart is victory.

—Talk on the Inner Light by Sri Chinmoy

SIGNS OF LIFE | (Top, left) The heart shaped leaves of the American Redbud tree have yet to form here. They first burst forth with spring flowers, like tiny sweet peas, that appear magically along the gnarled bark of the tree branches. It's easy to associate this tree with the miracle of rebirth, rather than its usual dark connection with Judas. A branch hung with speckled multi-hued eggs (from Marshalls) emphasizes the point. The ceramic bunny is from West Elm and the antique glazed cache pot is from my collection. An alpine bird ornament from Merck Family's Old World Christmas is a joyful symbol of spring and overlooks its egg-filled nest. Glassblowers in Germany often kept wild birds during the winter months since the sound of the gas flame in the workshop prompted the birds to sing. When spring arrived, the birds returned to freedom.

EPHEMERAL BEAUTY | (Middle) An even grander indication of spring, a branch from a yellow-blooming tulip tree (Japanese magnolia) provides short-lived beauty. The flowers, when cut from this tree with prehistoric magnolia roots quickly turn brown and start dropping their petals in a matter of hours—a lesson in the tenuous, but glorious bond life has with its source. These delicately floral-patterned egg ornaments are from Michaels. Their original frilly bow hangers were removed and replaced with simple ribbons—beautiful just as they are as an artistic reverence to nature.

BUNNY, BASKET and EGGS | (Bottom, right) This large chocolate bunny from Golda and I Chocolatier holds a spring bouquet of sugar flowers while presiding over a grapevine and paper flower basket bought at Ross. I filled the basket with fresh green wheat grass from Sevananda, and tied the handle with a bow of faux bois (wood grain) ribbon from Martha Stewart Crafts. The beautiful patterns covering the ceramic egg ornaments bought at Marshalls render them as works of art. 

©2010 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 photography and styling by Darryl Moland

natural selection

WE ARE NOT living in an age of subtlety. "Reality" shows abound on television where the most obnoxious, outrageous and gaudy get all the attention. No publicity, is bad publicity anymore, even for State Dinner crashers and sons of reality show wannabe parents that hold the media aloft chasing spaceship balloons for hours on end. Christmas decorations have accordingly become gaudier and gaudier in large part due to florists and department store visual display artists trying to outdo each other in public displays. That's how they sell it—build a gaudy spectacle and they will come. This is not how it should be done at home. Somebody forgot the caveat "DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME" somewhere along the line. I remember hearing the mantra of a very successful florist — "if it's worth doing, it's worth overdoing." Not so, when decorating at home.

I CAN CERTAINLY see the m.o. in that credo, and I for one, can appreciate the glee in over-the-top decorations. There's something about gaudy American consumerist spectacle that gives me a particularly sick sort of comfort—it's as if you're not part of the game if you don't participate. More lights in more configurations than you thought humanly possible? The more, the merrier! Commercial-sized plastic blow-up yard ornaments that lie in misshapen piles while the owners are at work during the day? Not so much. It's like getting behind rubbernecking traffic in a 10-car pileup on the interstate. One just hopes they can get by without seeing a crumpled mess, or even worse, a bloody scene, but you're still stuck in the slowed-to-a-standstill traffic. Commerce has overlaid the gentle quietness of nature.

WITHIN ITS ORIGINS, the tradition of the decorated tree began with a simple, some may say, superstitious, hope for the return to spring (as if the turning of the seasons was not a surefire thing). Nevertheless, a reverence for nature is slowly being welcomed back into decorating— bringing the ceremonial symbolism and true meaning of the decorated tree back to its noble origins. A beautiful symbol of the season is a glittery tree shaped from metal "twigs" and adorned with a subdued nod to the natural world in winter whites, tans and grays (above, right). The inclusion of animal ornaments; a polar bear, a mature deer and a small bird are indicative of what can be found in the market which pay homage to endangered species. It's as if we're grasping for an apology to the natural world for what we've done to it. Aside from being visually assaulted at every turn, it is becoming more and more apparent that we are destroying our own natural environment. We have a lot to learn from the pristine natural world (both flora and fauna) in its utter grace and simplicity. No matter how breathtakingly awesome the size of its vista, the natural world, as resilient as it is, is still ultimately fragile when you look at the underlying ecosystem. Nature depends on a complex system of co-habitation and synchronization and it is less and less able to cope with the destruction wrought by humans and the waste and byproducts of industrial "civilization." Pollution comes in too many forms.

MORE AND MORE one can find natural-themed ornaments— made from eco-friendly materials (or at least not plastic or resin). Some of the first ornaments I made as a kid were from a kit my mother bought me made of felt cutouts sewn together and glued with sequins and trim, similar to the felt reindeer ornament here (but much less sophisticated, of course) that seemingly dances among the (wooden, laser-cut) snowflakes (above, left). The Germans are most famous for their glass ornaments, but are also consummate woodcrafters. The two wooden  hand-carved folk art span trees (right) are carved, amazingly enough, from a single piece of linden wood with carefully-cut shavings curled upward to form their branches—works of art in themselves that need no ornamentation. The tableau is rounded out with a couple of hand-blown, metallic-finished glass ornaments, a birch bark folded star ornament, sweetgum tree fruits painted silver (given to me by my friend Julia Neville) and a pewter leaf ornament.

THE IMAGE (at left— click on to enlarge) illustrates my point more succinctly and poignantly as only art can do. I am thrilled to have permission to show the work of a very talented artist named Jaime Zollars. In the description of this piece by Jaime, it is succinctly said: "This image of forest creatures making the best of a bleak situation illustrates hope and the true spirit of the holiday season." In remembering that true spirit, I hope this gives one pause to stop and take time to remember that nature is ultimately responsible for the bounty of the season. Look to it to inspire and inform your holiday decorations. This method to our holiday madness is something we can all hope to achieve. And by doing so, we rejoin nature on a warm wind of change. 

WINTER WISHES |  This metal wire tree from Anthropologie is coated with glittery beads and is hung with a subdued color palette of ornaments: Czechoslovakian beaded ornaments, silvery gray mercury glass baubles and German glass-glittered snowflakes demonstrate the simple composition of this tableau. Beautifully-rendered animal ornaments stand watch and remind us that their environment and ours are essentially one-in-the-same and has to be taken into account for the survival of all. 

SNOWFLAKE DANCER | The artfully, beaded and stitched felt reindeer is from Homegoods. The laser cut wooden snowflakes are from West Elm (large), Target (medium) and Anthropologie (small). 

GERMAN FOLK ART | These wooden folk art span trees are carved from a single piece of linden wood curl by curl and layer by layer with a method developed in the 1930's by talented German craftsmen (these are from Straco and purchased at Homegoods). The two handblown glass ornaments have a beautiful rich crackled "tarnished" silver finish were bought at an arts festival in Atlanta, the birch bark folded star ornament was purchased from Martha by Mail a few years back. The sweetgum tree fruit is spray-painted silver and the pewter leaf ornament came from a shop in the North Georgia mountains. 

©2009 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED,

collecting and styling by Darryl Moland, 
photography (top, right) Harold Daniels Studio / 
assisted by Shawn May, 
(middle, left and bottom, right) Darryl Moland.
Artwork (bottom, left) by Jaime Zollars.
 

free fall

Laden Autumn here I stand
Worn of heart,
    and weak of hand:
Nought but rest seems 
    good to me,
Speak the word that 
    sets me free.
                —William Morris  

F A L L   T R E E S  become a saturated blaze of earthy color after a spring and summer of growth. The first artwork I created that got any attention started with a crudely painted bare tree trunk and limbs, then daubed with red, green, brown and yellow leaves applied with bits of sponge dipped in tempera paint, which I'm recreating in the photo at right (except with glass leaf ornaments). I did this sponge painting in kindergarten and proudly brought it home to give to my mother. She considered it a "masterpiece" (as only a mother can do). She kept the tree painting folded neatly in her drawer for as long as I can remember and would pull it out occasionally to show to friends and relatives.

P A I N T I N G  was one of the first indications that I had an eye for arts and crafts. My mother keeping and cherishing that painting as she did let me know it was nothing ordinary. Her tucking it away for safekeeping like it was something precious probably had more to do with my becoming a visual artist than any raw talent I ever had. It gave me the confidence inherent in creating something and taught me to love expressing myself with the raw materials of color, texture and form. My eyes turned into visual sponges—like those bits of paint-soaked sponge that I used to create that fall tree. My interest in absorbing the visual beauty of my surroundings started right then and there.

M Y   K I N D E R G A R T E N  teacher was also our next-door-neighbor where I grew up, so school was an easier transition for me than a lot of kids. I always excelled in school because I loved the adventure of learning new things. I was one of the geeky popular kids—the good-grade set with social skills. My parents were both actively involved in my sibling's lives—as stretched out as they were (I came along ten years after my brother Mal). One or both of my parents was always nearby in all our extracurricular endeavors (the band for my sister and I, and the football team for my two brothers), so I was what they called one of the "good kids," probably only because I knew mother and daddy would promptly find out if I ever did anything wrong.

M O T H E R   A L W A Y S  let me take charge of decorating the Christmas tree each year, once I was old enough to do so, and it became a lifelong passion that has grown to obsessive proportions. That's why I'm doing this blog. I have a lot to share and have amassed an enormous array of decorations and ephemera with which to do it. I'm less than two years away from being fifty, so it seems like a natural progression during the autumn years of my life. It is also a means by which to collect my thoughts and ideas for a book called "The Decorated Tree" that I want to publish someday. And it's all about freeing this dream I've had for years and making it a reality.

W I L L I A M   M O R R I S, who wrote the short poem that begins this blog post was a leader in the Arts and Crafts movement begun in the late 19th century. The more I read about him (shown, left, at age 37), the more it seems my ideas about resolving craft with industrialization are in alignment. Today, that means retooling a new appreciation of things still well-made by industry by sorting through the mounds of schlock that is mass-marketed. Modern society, as Morris feared, has become all about being fast and cheap and has lost a lot of historical context in translation. He rejected the opulence of the Victorian era and urged a return to medieval traditions of design, craftsmanship and community. Aside from being a poet, an artist and a social reformer, he is probably most well-known for perfecting the use of woodblocks for printing the nature-inspired wallpaper and textiles he designed, many of which are still in use today in one form or another. His political writings were geared toward a push away from the dehumanizing effects of the Industrial Revolution and a longing for a society in which people could enjoy craftsmanship and simplicity of expression.

M Y   S I G H T S  are set less broadly than his (or maybe not), but in any account, that is exactly what I want to do with the holiday tree, which has all but become a meaningless decorative concoction without much reverence to the natural world and the history that created it. It hasn't always been that way. I believe that life ultimately finds its true meaning in nature and we must revere our history. And like a vibrant falling leaf, I hope to find good ground to nourish and tap into a time-honored wellspring of renewed ideas. 

MEMORY TREE | Almost 40 years later, I recreate that kindergarten tree painting (above, right), except, instead of daubs of paint sponged on for leaves, there are glass ornaments. The broad leaves are made by Department 56, the narrow ones are from Cost Plus World Market (past season). The tree is topped by an owl ornament from West Elm (past season). Surrounded by moss and real autumn leaves, the nut ornaments (atop the faux-finished memory box) symbolize rebirth: a glittered-glass walnut by Martha Stewart Everyday at Kmart, a walnut and a chestnut by Inge Glas (past seasons). 

KEEPSAKE MEMORIES| Here I am at about age 10 next to the Christmas tree at home (in 1971), accompanied by a handmade Christmas card painted for my parents with my school picture pasted on it (above, center) made around the same time. 

ARTIST AND CRAFTSMAN | William Morris (bottom, left), born in 1837, was directly inspired by the flora and fauna of the natural world and warned of the dehumanizing effect of the Industrial Revolution. He is known as the Father of the Arts and Crafts movement which got its start in the latter 1800's. Painting by George Frederic Watts, circa 1870. 

©2009 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, collecting, photography and styling by Darryl Moland. Painting of William Morris by George Frederic Watts.