Dolce far niente

Home again in Stockholm I am getting used to the overwhelming presence of ”the people of reality” (verklighetens folk).

This nation is indeed a big fat realm of reality, not always ideal for us dream...sters.

I went to Capri, l'Isola del Sogno, fearing, hoping I would dream awake every hour and not be able to work a minute.

Ulla Bjerne told me as much in the foreword to Förförare (1920):

I want to firmly dissuade anyone from going to Italy to work. During the three months I spent in Rome I made desperate attempts at putting down some of my impressions on paper. Impossible. Doing nothing was in the air. Everything was new, wonderful and soaked with sunshine.

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In addition, according to Suetonius, when the emperor Augustus came to Capri he coined the name Apragopolis – specifically for Anacapri if I remember correctly – meaning city-of-do-nothings.

Well, if this was idle country it had nothing to do with me. The minute I came to the island I had lots of energy. Rarely have I felt so happy to work, writing this blog in particular.

Instead of doing sweet nothing I got even more caught up in my obsession with Ulla Bjerne, this very singular woman, who also happens to be my relative.

My age-old plans for a film or a book about Ulla have been extended. There is now a blog in continous progress. At least this one's happening and will continue to be. We'll see about the rest.

Garibaldi outfit

I found a lovely little passage in one of Ulla Bjerne's novels in the Förförare (”Seducers”) collection. The novels were written in Swedish, this one is called San Martino and it tells the story of the protagonist – in this case, as it all sounds very autobiographical I could as easily write Ulla – arriving in Naples and being recommended a visit at the Certosa di San Martino, an old and – already 1920 – dusty museum.

Not impressed by the museum she instead describes some people she observes: a threesome also on their way to San Martino. Ulla, ever intrigued by anybody who questions the norm, identifies the group as two female prostitutes and a watchmaker/traveling salesman/waiter on an outing.

The novel is no masterpiece, however, I want to translate a part of it here since it's about one of Ulla's own outfits.

Ulla Bjerne was a notorious cross dresser at a time when notoriety was well established, cross-dressing was not. During the 1910's she would live and travel around Europe wearing pantsuits and pantskirts long before those words were invented and more than a decade before la garçonne entered the fashion scene.

I have known her to systematically dress in menswear, smoke the pipe, wear a monocle and even a tophat. Here I have found a description in her own words of some of her clothing.

Before I left the museum I had a new experience. In a cabinet I discovered a torn, red shirt and a pair of very worn trousers with a hole in the behind. These garments had once clothed the grand hero of freedom Garibaldi. In my memory I made a sketch of the shirt, which I am wearing at this moment, not without success on Capri.

Again, the year was 1920. The same year, incidentally, that the picture above was taken, although I don't think it shows the Garibaldi shirt.

Italian Escapades, part 6

The last part of Ulla Bjerne's story from her youth, read in Swedish by herself on Finnish radio 1957, transcribed and translated by me.

The painting, from 1920, is by Milivoj Uzelac.

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Italian Escapades

6.

In March I was back on Capri and after some time Therese joined me. When she heard that I was going back home to Sweden to spend the summer with my parents in Norrland she had me vow to come visit her in Finland. That could probably be arranged, I said and promised to show up.

When, on my way home in May, I stopped in Paris I completely forgot about both Therese and Finland. Already the first evening at Café Rotonde I met the Serbian painter Milivoj Uzelac, a handsome man with sooty black fringe and dark passionate eyes, and a talented artist at that.

Uzelac had already spent a long time in Paris on a state grant but he was now out of money so he could buy neither canvas nor paint. I sent a telegram to my new publisher K O Bonnier and asked for an advance payment of 2 000 kronor. And, in those days, I got it.

Uzelac right away started painting two brilliant portraits of me, one of which is now part of the collection of the national museum of Agram and the other one, which I was given, I later donated to Karl Otto Bonnier, hence it is to be found at Manilla.

During our daily time together it became more and more clear that Serbia was the place to go for me during fall, not Finland. So I wrote a larking letter to Therese and told her that I had met a Serbian painter who very much appealed to me. After my visit to Norrland I would go straight to Serbia.

It appeared my soul was no longer possible to save. The Serb liked wine as much as I did.

Finally I made it home to Norrland. All summer I stayed out at sea on an island where my parents had rented a villa. As i had now switched from the sunny land of the grape to the barren abode of the pine cone I worked diligently on a serious book entitled ”Sinners”.

All the while Milivoj wrote and told me about his coming exhibition and sent me reproductions of his paintings. He was very successful and sold everything. ”So when you come to Agram we can roll around in dinars”, he wrote. It all sounded splendid and I was burning with impatience to transport myself there as soon as possible.

Therese, who seemed upset by my new plans, also wrote to remind me of my vow and said that she counted on my visiting Finland before I disappeared down in Serbia. On thinking it over I came to the conclusion that I might as well take a little jump over the Baltic. However, more then three days I was not going to sacrifice to Finland.

And as soon as I had had my passport settled for the trip to Serbia and money for my ”Sinners” I took a small suitcase and leaped over.

As I mentioned, I had set aside three days for the visit to Finland. This automn it will be 36 years since I came to live in this country.

Therese sure had a remarkable intuition. And the way she, despite certain difficulties, finally managed to bring the two of us together, well, it is all such a peculiar story with its grotesque, subtle and humorous elements that each time I think about it I am taken by the wondrous enigma of life and destiny.