How self-indulgent! I am creating a new series of blogs on the spread of hope and joy from writing and philanthropy; and I make the first one about my debut novel, Chiaroscuro. My blogging aim is to lift spirits and shine a light – a double shot, if you like – celebrating the goodness and creative talents of others. Yet here I am shamelessly shouting BUY CHIAROSCURO PLEASE.
It’s all very well saying that future Espresso Blogs will tell stories of writers whose words have enriched countless lives; or ordinary people who have never featured on lists of rich and famous, who are not known as the big givers, but whose sustained or bequeathed commitment to charitable endeavour is an extraordinary philanthropy that goes far beyond generous giving.
That’s fine for what comes next, but what about this self-serving blog TO BUY CHIAROSCURO? It hardly seems the right place to start explaining that Chiaroscuro is a novel that explores timeless themes of light and darkness, delusion and deception, love and loyalty. Nor should there be room in this first Espresso Blog to reveal how the lives of three of the greatest masters of chiaroscuro, Caravaggio, Velazquez and Zurbaran, become tangled and inextricably linked in this tale based on a sequence of historical events which reached their climax in Madrid in December 1658.
And there’s definitely no time to elaborate on the pivotal role of two women in Chiaroscuro, both historical characters, both with a profound impact on the story as it unfolds. It’s not appropriate either to say how this novel addresses the mystery behind Las Meninas, one of the world’s most loved and revered paintings. Only those who BUY CHIAROSCURO will make that discovery.
That would all be so self-promoting to do that. Better perhaps in the spirit of future Espresso Blogs to reflect upon some of those people who have made it their business to ensure that the brilliance of the most gifted artists endures, seen by the public, by new generations, year after year, decade after decade.
For without them nobody would want to BUY CHIAROSCURO because they might never have seen, or even heard of Caravaggio, Velazquez or Zurbaran.
Women like Mary Atkins, in fact. Mary was born, grew up, and became the schoolteacher in a tiny place: Salvisa, Kentucky, to be precise. Her life changed when she fell in love with James, an old friend who had become a widower without children. They married in 1878 and decided to build a new life in Kansas City. There they thrived. James made good money in the mill business, enough to make some property investments.
When James died, Mary was heartbroken. She took some time to overcome her grief and decide what to do, both with her life and the fortune that he had left her. No doubt to her own, her family and friends’ disbelief, Mary set off for Europe in 1897. She loved it so much that she made four further trips, and on each tour, her love of art deepened.
At some point on these tours, Mary dreamed. How wonderful it would be to display such life-enriching art at home in Kansas City. She knew she would not live to see her dream come true, but that did not stop her. When Mary died in 1911, she left one third of her estate to the city of Kansas on the condition that it be used to buy land for a public art museum. When William Rockhill Nelson, founder of The Kansas City Star newspaper, died four years later specifying in his will that the William Rockhill Nelson Trust be established to purchase works of art, the two estates were combined with one purpose; and exactly ninety years ago in 1933, the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art opened its doors for the first time. Today, it is home to more than 42,000 works of art and is visited by people from all over the world.
As wonderful as the philanthropy of Mary Atkins has become, I still like to think of her on her travels, gazing in awe upon the glorious works of chiaroscuro by Caravaggio, Velazquez, Zurbaran and other great artists, thinking of her beloved James, fully appreciating that in life, and in every choice, there is both light and darkness.