Let’s talk about the muse and how they function in the life of the artist. We all have influences that kick our artistic butts into gear. Growing up with my grandmother Helene‘s paintings I’ve long been fascinated by the literal artist model. I took a painting class in high school where the instructor told me painters tend to add their own features when they paint other people. “If you want to look good, hire a good-looking painter.” When my maternal grandmother lived outside

The trouble with having such a deep knowledge of my family history is I find I must bite my tongue when my kids speak casually of their interests. I have no desire to bog them down with the weight of our history. When my kid says she’d like to grow up to be a dancer I want to say, “Like your great aunt.” When they learn to ice skate and say they can never do it I want to say, “But your grandmother became quite good at it living outside of Chicago.” When they tell me they love

I had a fair number of technical difficulties with this entry as the reel-to-reel from 1959 was damaged. You’ll hear some interference despite my best efforts to clean up the audio. In any case, this is an 8-minute interview my grandmother did on talk radio in Chicago in 1959, a mere 17 months after arriving in the United States. It’s delightful to hear her broken English and thick French accent. She’s talking here of her process as a portrait artist as she launched the caree

Chicago suburbs, 1950s, USA Maria Baroni with grandmother Elise & mother Helene. Just a little touch of glamor of you on this fine day. #fashion #dressedup #HélèneLasserre #vintagephotographs #vintagephotography #suburbs #Chicago #blackandwhitephoto #vintgefashion #EliseLasserre #fur #hats #1950sfashion #MariaBaroni #vintagephotos

I grew up in a talented family that holds the idea that talent runs in a family as a form of destiny. My grandfather, Roger, was a cold person. He didn’t like children and as a mechanical engineer he wasn’t expected to be good with people. Here is a pretty typical photo of us. You can see he barely tolerates children. Edited on October 2015 to add this photo because tell us how you really feel about children, Roger. My grandmother, his wife, adored me. And as a result Roger a

No one is more American than an immigrant. I think of my family when the US  immigration reform discussion crops up again because we are all of us born in France and new to America. Yes, it is a peculiar feature of my life that despite having the most French of families my own mother and her parents lived outside of Chicago starting in 1953. In fact, they lived the American Dream. Their house in the suburbs. I think only a family as art directed by a French woman could captur

Some people say that we will never again see the level of glamour evident in post-world war America. It usually men who lament the passing of this era, but I am relieved. It takes an awful lot of time and effort to achieve these stunning results, even when you have natural assets. Growing up with portraits of my grandmother and mother looking like this gave me an unrealistic expectation of beauty. Even years later, working among the Hollywood elite, no one lived up to this st

The Halloween costumes of my mother’s youth doubled down on her opera training. Here are three from her teenage years. They were living in the suburbs of Chicago at the time. Her mother’s artistic creativity is evident… not only in the costumes but in that painting on the wall in the background. “Gypsy” or Carmen. “Egyptian princess” or Aida. “Japanese geisha” or The Mikado or perhaps Madama Butterfly. It is amusing to me that, for such a French family, my mother and her pare

I’m a big reader and this week I enjoyed Nuiala O’Faolain’s The Story of Chicago May. [‘Chicago May, one of the few notorious women in the male-dominated rogues’ gallery of American criminals.’] The Story of Chicago May  is a biography by an Irish author about a native daughter who moved to America and traveled in international criminal circuits during the Belle Époque. At its heart, it is a quintessentially American story of re-invention and moving through social stratum. “C