The dying Odessa

not by might nor copy_2

 

I would like to add this painting during this Holy Week to honour my mother Ruth Harlow Berman, as well as the finished work on the cross.

I was inspired by Deniz Kilinç who is the prima ballerina of the Izmir Ballet Company.

She was dancing Odessa at the Aspendos  Theatre of antiquity  in Antalya, Turkey when I saw her.

The theatre was built under the rule of Marcus Aurelius in 155 AD.  Can you imagine?

The stage lighting replacing the sunset was enough of a curtain call.

Aspenods-theatre

As Deniz danced so lovely were the memories of my childhood.

I was 11 when my whole family went to live in Moscow for a year. Here it is…a bit hard to read.Bound for Russia

 

In November my mother took her reluctant Susanna to the ballet, Swan Lake, for my 12th birthday. We walked through the snow that glittered on the streets. If you have been to Moscow you will know what I mean. And if you haven’t, you have to imagine huge snow flakes falling like confetti onto sidewalks of white frosting.

The Bolshoi Theatre was a mystery to me.

 

Bolshoi chanda

It was a palace with red velvet and golden designs. The chandelier hung majestically over the bowl of the theatre. When it dimmed it made rainbows and when the oboe sang its strange and luring melody I was forever changed. As the curtain unfolded I knew my life would never be the same. I didn’t know what it meant but I knew I was being called out of this world.

This picture I did of my mother ascending into heaven. The shadow of the world, the pain and the elderly body vanishing  because of the crown around her head and the spirit that lived inside her.