Rosta Pospisil – artist, jester and poet

Rostislav "Rosta" Pospisil

Thanks the heaven for GPS! When we were setting up my appointment, Rosta told me that the village is rather hard to find, but once there it will be easy to locate him because the road ends there and there is nothing beyond. Also, the little settlement has only twelve dwellings, so at the end it shouldn't be difficult. Meghan and I got into our rental, popped up my iPad with the navigation program and started our trip to Knezevisko.  We started on a Czech freeway, soon changed to a highway and after about forty miles we had to switch to some county roads. Roads that were getting narrower, and one had to hope that a local milk man doesn't show up behind the next curve.

Music Into Heart

No kidding, Knezevisko, is up in the rolling hills of the Czecho-Moravian highlands and the final three miles were a narrow unpaved road good for two bicycles but almost too narrow for our little Seat Leon.  As we were rounding another bend right before the village's first house, a local youngster decided to rev his engine (maybe) trying to escape the quiet life of the place. We stopped about four feet from each other, both surprised to see the opposite vehicle.

Rosta was standing in front of his house in a heavy blue sweater and (as seemingly always) smoking a good cigar. He bears a strong resemblance to Ernest Hemingway, so the cigar is an important part of his presence. He welcomed my daughter Meghan and me to his endearing little country house, which is also his working sanctuary.

 

Before we started to talk art, especially his art, he insisted that we must try the goulash he had been preparing for us since last night.  (My wife Beth and both daughters Meghan and Sasha have been enthusiastic goulash aficionados ever since we started to travel to my old country after the Velvet Revolution.)  Both, Meghan and I agreed that Rosta’s goulash is the best of all the meals we tried on our trip this time.  Coffee was the old fashioned kind – two teaspoons of coffee grinds poured over boiling water.  Not so good for a coffee purist like me and the majority of Czechs do not drink it this way anymore. And, of course, a little taste of a single malt from Islay, famous for it peaty character (you either love it or hate it – I am not an admirer).

Then, the tour of his atelier started.  The whole second floor is dedicated to Rosta’s workshop.  His oil paintings are everywhere.  Mostly vivid colors, strong brush strokes with sudden focus on detail.  His gentle humor with a nostalgic twist can be seen everywhere in every painting, color drawing or graphic.  Lately, Rosta has started to make more serigraphs, clearly enjoying the technique.  He is getting ready for his big exhibit in November in Brno and works feverishly to have everything ready for the opening.

Going through his huge collection I fully understand why he has so many collectors and followers – if you want to break your everyday routine, your daily worries and demands, you need to have the opportunity to look at one of his works to lift your spirits and smile with him.

To illustrate his whimsical (some may call it childlike) approach to life here is the story I love:

During the hottest days of last summer Rosta invited about twenty friends to his country house to help him to inaugurate his new swimming pool.  Some of them even brought in their swim suits.

  

I’m certainly very happy that I was able to bring back 14 of his newest serigraphs and one color drawing.  Maybe, next time, I can bring some oil painting(s).

You may see some of Rosta’s art in Filigree store on 12262 Ventura Blvd.

Our Trip Through France

I am an extremely lucky woman. I married well. Today is the last day of our visit to France. We saw Mt. St. Michel, Burgundy, Lourdes, Provence and Paris. Who can say which was the best?

For those of you that get the chance, don't miss the opportunity to visit one of man's great designs. It is a medieval monastery sitting on a tiny island, like a bird perched on top of it's nest. When the tide is in the island is surrounded by water. When the tide is out there is a marshy bridge that connects the island to the land. The only unfortunate thing about the place is that is covered with tourists. They crowd the narrow winding streets and hang from the battlements like idiotic flags. We dined in a wonderful restaurant that is in the first building that greets you once you have entered the gates. Inside we watched four chefs cooking omelets in an open fireplace. Our lunch was delicious, and Pavy was particularly entertained by the autographed photographs on the wall of Leon Trotsky and Margaret Thatcher sitting side by side.

I have to admit that Lourdes was my idea. I had been curious about it since I was a young girl. It was a mind blowing experience. The area surrounding Lourdes is beautiful with green rolling hills and white puffy clouds in a pure blue sky. The little town is quaint with a river meandering through the middle of it. It is filled with hotels, but you don't see many tourists until you get near the grotto where young Bernadette saw her visions of the Virgin Mary. The tourists are all around the grotto which initially looks like Las Vegas with a religious theme. Store after store selling religious souvenirs and bright neon lights is a human blight on the serene landscape. It was horrifying and I couldn't help but think of Jesus destroying the tables of the money changers in front of the temple. However, there are many good and beautiful aspects to it. Down in the grotto the sick and infirm are in wheelchairs, carts and beds being pushed and pulled by volunteers of all ages and colors. There is a Cathedral but the real action is outside where the Mass is celebrated in the open air. The singing was beautiful. The healing water comes from spigots in the wall and people patiently wait their turn. There are carts filled with brightly burning candles, and everywhere you look you see people seriously intent on the mystery of life or God.

Provence was a bit of a surprise to me because I didn't realize that it's climate and vegetation were so similar to Southern California. So like Southern California they experience forest fires. We got caught in one on the highway. We were stopped in basically one spot for four hours. There were no cars on the other side of the freeway and we sat bumper to bumper in one giant parking lot. Neither the police or any other emergency personnel showed up to inform us or check to see if we were okay. It was a bit eerie looking at the billowing clouds of smoke ahead while we were hemmed in on all sides. I was truly relieved when the traffic was allowed to move.

Paris is gorgeous, larger than life, and I feel inadequate to describe it, so I will stick to the design show. Wow! It was spectacular. There were eight halls filled to capacity in the exposition center. The construction inside the halls was elaborate and extremely creative. We weren't allowed to have cameras so we only snuck a few pictures from the iPhone. I really liked almost everything I saw. I thought that there wasn't going to be much that matched our particular style, but I was wrong. I could have ordered a lot. Most everyone was welcoming and friendly. I only dealt with one snotty young lady from Spain. I wish it weren't so far away, because I could go to it over and over again. I have just one fashion tip for the ladies. Everyone was wearing those billowy harem pants that are cuffed at the ankle.

All in all our trip to France was memorable. However, I do have a few complaints. The highways are toll roads, which collect money every few miles. We were fleeced of a significant amount of money at these toll booths. The metro system in Paris is poorly organized, too expensive and ugly and dirty. Finally, and most importantly, Sarkozy, you need to replace the public toilets. They are a blight on your beautiful landscape.

My Brother Michael McHugh

I like to tell the story that the first time I laid eyes on Michael was the day he came home from the hospital. I peered into his crib and here was this purple skinned baby with bright orange hair. I was pretty sure that other people’s babies didn’t look like that, so I was definitely disappointed. That was over fifty years ago and I still think that my brother is not like any other brother, but in a genius way.

When God was handing out the talent Michael kept going back for seconds. He drove his fifth grade teacher nuts because he kept writing plays and getting his friends to act them out. In middle school he won many acting awards. In high school he was one of the yell leaders. He acted in educational films. He danced like one of the Jackson family. Michael could draw and paint. He played the guitar and he sang. Michael and his good friend Neal appeared four times on the Gong Show. They sang a jazz rendition of “Ding, Dong, the Witch Is Dead” from the “Wizard of Oz.” The producers kept inviting them back. So, one of Michael’s early problems was deciding which talent he was going to concentrate on. Unfortunately, another one of his problems was that our father did not value or encourage his talents. Time and again Dad put up road blocks to Michael developing his abilities.

After trying college Dad’s way and dropping out, Michael got a job as a bank teller and very quickly rose to the level of senior vice president of a savings and loan. To satisfy his creative side Michael would buy houses and renovate them to resell at a profit. When our father died Michael felt free enough to quit his bank job, and he and his partner, Keith moved to Santa Fe, New Mexico. Michael and Keith bought a house in the center of town and turned it into a bed and breakfast. Michael’s architectural renderings for the renovation were always approved by the city inspectors. It seemed that life was pushing him to focus his talents on home design. The bed and breakfast was a success, and Frommer’s Guide highly recommended it. While Keith tended the bed and breakfast, Michael continued to design homes through a store in town called Tara Tucker.

Some people’s lives move along peacefully but Michael is not one of those people. Keith decided to end their relationship, forcing them to sell the bed and breakfast and split the proceeds. When Michael met a new partner, he decided to move back to L.A. because Tom was HIV positive and struggling with his health. Together they opened a home design store on Ventura Boulevard called the Crimson Rooster.

Michael has had many clients that he has designed for. One of my favorite stories is about a woman who would often show up in his store to buy one or two items. Then one day she told him that she wished she had a house just like the store. She lived in a house where she was always surrounded by people because she had a husband, five children and forty servants. She wanted a place where she could go just to be by herself and experience peace and quiet. Michael went out and found a little house in the hills off of Laurel Canyon, and she bought it for cash. Then, Michael remodeled it to look like the store. After that, he worked as her designer, and he was constantly busy because as a person with an endless supply of money this woman was always coming up with new projects. Michael even let me help him once when he was assigned to redecorate their Gulfstream jet. I was thrilled.

Most people today live long and productive lives while being HIV positive, but Tom wasn’t that lucky. The drug cocktails stopped being effective, and Tom moved into the AIDS portion of the illness. Tom was incredibly brave facing death and Michael was a faithful and self-sacrificing partner, nursing him twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week until Tom took his last breath. After Tom died Michael went through a bad period of time. He lost the Crimson Rooster and the home he and Tom had bought together. For the next six years Michael worked at Bedfellows in Studio City. Working at Bedfellows taught him a lot, especially about modern design. Michael and my husband discovered how much they liked each other. So, the three of us have become a team. We designed a new and better Crimson Rooster named Filigree. If the economy will let us, I am hoping that we might be heading toward a new level of success. I am thrilled to be his partner, and I believe that his incredible talent will win out against the obstacles we face.

Our Angel Ange

Way back (eight months ago) when we first opened our doors a young, beautiful, red headed woman wandered into our store. It was love at first sight for all of us. Ange is an actress, but she has a love for home design. We actually soon discovered that she is interested in just about everything. One gets the feeling that Ange lives life like a kid in a candy store eager to taste every new flavor. She asked us to come to her home and help pick colors of paint for her walls. It turned out that Ange was pregnant, and she had already started nesting. Throughout her pregnancy Ange came to visit us, and she also invited us, three old people, to her parties and special events. She had several yards of fabric that had belonged to her grandmother, and we turned it into pillows for her bed. Then, came the big request. Ange found an old wing chair that she wanted covered in teddy bear fur. The purpose of the chair was to cradle mom and baby in softness while they were nursing and bonding. Now, Michael and I have been around the block more than once but this was a brand new request. However, we had come to believe that Ange and her baby were our special angels, and how can one refuse the request of an angel. It took awhile to find just the right fur, but we are proud to say that we accomplished it. You will notice an old dilapidated teddy bear sitting in the chair. It belonged to Michael when he was a toddler. See how close we came to reproducing Michael's old teddy bear in the form of a chair. Ange had her baby, and he is an absolutely gorgeous little boy named Logan. It gives us great pleasure to think about the two of them curled up in the arms of a big teddy bear.

Oscar and Pippy

On the 22nd of July we had our special event - John Robshaw linen sale and quasi official opening of our store (after seven months of operation.)
We had a rather nice attendance, a lot of people came and had questions and wanted to buy.  Fortunately it was not overwhelming and with the help of Mike Polka (Robshow's rep) we were able to talk to everyone.

Mike Polka

In the middle of all this excitement plus wine and cheese offerings a beautiful young lady came in.  Later on we learned that her name is Amy.  She was going around the store admiring everything in it but (as she was sipping a wonderful Sauvignon Blanc) she was coming all the time back to one of the John Robshaw's dog beds.  The dog beds are beautiful but they are not inexpensive; they are a real investment of dollars and love. After about thirty minutes Amy made a decision.  She bought the medium size dog bed and left with a big gentle smile on her beautiful face.
Yesterday we got an e-mail from Amy.  Her two dogs, Oscar and Pippy enjoying their new bed:

Oscar and Pippy
John Robshaw - Dog Bed

Amy, thank you for sharing!

Special Event on Thursday, July 22, 2010

Also a very nice article on the internet at mydailyfind.com

New Bed - New Look

Michael and Beth changed the bedding from John Robshaw to Traditions by Pamela Kline.

I would say that they did a pretty good job!

Slowly, but we shall get there...

Our web site is born! Filigree website
We worked closely with Black Dog Creative Group and Laurie Paquette is terrific.  She had all the patience of a saint - especially with Michael our genius designer who pays attention to every detail.

Alone

This morning Beth and Mikey left for Las Vegas. There is some trade show there, and they'll be walking tens of miles and hundreds of floors looking at mostly "crapola". Sasha and I stayed behind tending our store, which is somehow dead for the last two days. Sashie opened the store at 10 and I came to join her just a little bit after 12. We had only one customer who didn't buy anything but she can be back - she loved John Robshaw "stuff". Sashie's gone now and I'm hoping for some kind of an action.


An older man just walked in. Medium high, relatively slim, silver hair, permanent suntan complexion and intelligent blue eyes. All "dressed up" in an ocean blue workout "suit" with a white roll-up sweater under the jacket. He was very complimentary about the store. After a little chat (he was interested in some slip covers) he revealed that he used to be a designer for 38 years. Good man.

Now back to almost boring waiting for Godot. In meantime I played with Pirsc's porcelain skull and John Robshaw's bedding.

What do you thing? Do they match together? :-)

Retirement Plan

The statistics on retirement are not good. Basically, they predict that you will drop dead within the first two years that you retire. That did actually happen to two wonderful men I knew that retired from teaching, and I believe that is one of life's great injustices that you could rail against God all day about. There must be some mind-body link to the idea that your purpose for living is over once you retire. I do think that it is unhealthy for me to think that my work is done, so a new career feels just right to me. And it needed to be a career that I enjoyed. You must be thinking that running a store is a radical departure from being a teacher, and you would be right. Most of the day, I feel like an infant because I don't know what people are talking about. However, I am doing this project with my brother, and he knows how to run a store.

Rain, Rain Go Away...

When it rains no people show up in the store.  Cannot blame them, but certainly miss them...  Mikey is pacing the floor and here and there goes out to have a wet cigaret outside, Bazy's playing solitaire and listening to Eric Clapton.  Ferguson refuses to go out - according to her it doesn't do good to her fur.

Now, John Robshaw should like this one. The truth is that Ferguson just came to the store directly from her hairdresser so she didn't need any additional bath and she certainly enjoyed the bed.

Are we nuts?

It's recession, right? I think they call it the Big Recession too. Well, regardless the recession, my beautiful wife Beth retired from a paying job, wedded away our daughter Meghan and this past December she opened a new store - recession be dammed!