Word: callas
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...help maintain the illusion, she lives in a kind of time capsule. Her Hollywood apartment, which she has had since 1932, is still decorated in the style of the '30s, when she was one of the screen's highest-paid performers. A vase of fake white calla lilies stands on a white piano across from a white couch that rests against a mirror set in an off-white wall. Two 32-in.-high nude statues of her stand on the piano, a nude painting of her hangs on the wall, and there are photographs of her everywhere. Hers...
...clarity of registration in Calla han's pictures flows naturally from th camera's function as a precision instrument. Usually there is a sense of meditative arrest, as if the shutter really had stopped time, giving the images a most singular density. Callahan's visual world is not very busy. We are invited to scrutinize a nude body reduced to one exquisite line formed by the cleft of the buttocks and the thighs, against a white ground; and we do so with gratitude. If Ingres had been a photographer he might have arrived at images like Callahan...
That's an azalea, or I'm not from Decatur. Why, there's nothing "lily" about it. Yes, sir, I'd know an azalea if it was dressed in a clown suit, and an azalea is just what you've got under that CALLA LILY caption...
Lilies-Water, Tiger, Calla. The style had its origins in pre-Raphaelite painting, flourished in Toulouse-Lautrec's famous posters of Jane Avril, and was murdered by the cold cubism of Weimar's Bauhaus. Now it seems oldfashioned, yet it marked a rebellion against the fussy, historically eclectic aspects of Victorian art. It found its forms in nature: the lily (water, tiger and calla), clinging vines, leaves of all kinds, jellyfish, polyps-a whole botanical garden of gentle, curving shapes...
...half a million dollars and opened last April, brought benefits to Tokyo far beyond those of the mountains and the open sea. There, thanks to Konomi, Tokyo's gangsters, plutocrats, diplomats, legislators and sybarites could shake off the dust of the city in a palace rivaling Roman Cara-calla's wildest dreams. It boasted 50 private bath and massage rooms tended by a corps of 130 cute, almond-eyed masseuses in pale blue bras and panties. Miss Turko, they all called themselves, in keeping with the Turkish atmosphere...