Kids Art Russia lesson!
Today we learned about Russian architecture and ‘onion domes,’ as depicted in St. Basil’s Cathedral.
We used sharpie markers on watercolor paper to make our drawings permanent. Then we added watercolor paint and salt. The salt separates the water in a beautiful pattern. They turned out SO original! This technique is always a parent favorite, and the kids always love to paint.
Here are some examples of our final art:
Onion Domes by Katie, age 7
Onion Domes by Vivian, age 5
Onion Domes by Emilia, age 6
Onion Domes by Jeffrey, age 7
Onion Domes by Samantha, age 7
Onion Domes by Anne, age 6
We also sampled some delicious Russian Tea Cakes and I’ve included the recipe below. These are easy to make with kids!
Russian Tea Cakes (no nuts)
Butter, powdered sugar, vanilla, flour, salt
Ingredient List:
1 cup softened butter/margarine
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1 tsp. vanilla
2 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1/4 tsp salt
optional – chopped nuts
How to Make Russian Tea Cakes:
- Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees.
- Mix butter powdered sugar & vanilla in a large bowl.
- Stir in flour, salt & nuts (optional). Mix & knead until dough forms.
- Shape dough into small balls and place on ungreased cookie sheet.
- Bake 12-14 minutes or until set.
- Roll warm cookies in powdered sugar.
(I did this part since they were hot!)
- Let cool completely.
- Roll in more powdered sugar & enjoy!
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What does Mark Carver have to say about Gothic Cathedrals and the Art of Melodrama?
As the seeds for The Age of Apollyon were taking root in my imagination, I read Victor Hugo’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame. In addition to being a fantastic story, that book opened my eyes to the breathtaking marvels of Gothic architecture. I’d always been a casual fan of cathedrals (who isn’t?) but after finishing Hugo’s masterpiece, I was determined to incorporate the Gothic church and all of its accompanying melodramatics into my own writing.
The Age of Apollyondoesn’t aim for the same heights as The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I never intended to write a massive, sweeping epic to ring throughout the ages – I just wanted to create a rip-roaring horror/action novel with all of the creepy, gothic-y goodness I could muster. So I chartered the Good Ship Google and set out on a virtual journey through dozens of cathedrals and churches, searching for the proper settings for my scenes. It was quite an endeavour, because I had to find several churches that fit descriptions I had already written. But with the power of Google Images and Wikipedia at my fingertips, I was able to find everything I was looking for.
A total of seven churches are featured in The Age of Apollyon. Not all of them fall under the umbrella of Gothic architecture, but they all contain rich history and dramatic atmosphere. Three of them, St. Peter’s Basilica at the Vatican, Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, and the Milan Cathedral, are quite famous, while the others are less well-known. And, I must confess, not all of them emerge from the book unscathed. Yet each church plays an important role in the story, and though I’ve never visited them personally, I strove to capture what I imagined their unique personalities to be like. It was a tiring ordeal that devoured countless hours, but it was the most fun I’ve ever had doing research. Sometimes just staring (and drooling) over photos of these architectural masterworks was enough to inspire entire passages of writing.
My love affair with historic churches continues in the sequel to The Age of Apollyonentitled Black Sun, which I am currently writing at a feverish pace. These books aren’t only about churches and cathedrals of course, but for my money, it doesn’t get any better than a ferocious gun battle in a soaring candlelit sanctuary.
Or maybe I’ve just watched too many movies.
Wells, Rosemary and Secundino Fernandez. My Havana: Memories of a Cuban Boyhood. Illus. by Peter Ferguson. Candlewick, 2010. Ages 8-12. 
Memories can move us forward or backward, depending on how we use them. My Havana: Memories of a Cuban Boyhood evokes the intensity of one child’s connection to his home in 1950s Havana. Prolific children’s book author Rosemary Wells once heard a radio interview with the Cuban-American architect Secundino Fernandez and years later located Fernandez and worked with him to produce this resonant little historical novel burnished with hope and light.
Secundino, or Dino, relishes his city avenues “lined with coral-stone archways, ancient doors, and window frames painted bright as birds-of-paradise.” As twilight arrives, neighbors begin their checker games, and the cafes fill with people. Dino loves to sketch the buildings, with their porticoes and marble columns. The first time Dino leaves the city of his heart, he crosses the Atlantic to spend time with his grandparents in Spain. When he finally returns home, he expects to stay. Dictators — first Batista, then Castro — take over, though, and the family abandons their restaurant to join relatives in New York City.
So homesick in this dark and dreary new environment, Dino relies on his memory to recreate his beloved Havana in the confines of his bedroom. With great care, he cuts out cardboard to represent its archways, balconies and cafes. Aluminum foil glued to plywood and glazed with blue nail varnish becomes a sparkling turquoise harbor. The double-spread illustration depicting the imaginative boy, scissors in hand, beautifully captures his resourceful nature. The novel closes with Dino adapting to his new world: “New York sunlight, shimmering with the promise of summer, settles round my shoulders like the arms of my mother. It is almost like my Havana.” This brief novel would brighten units on immigration, Cuba, or architecture.
Macaulay, David. Built to Last. Houghton Mifflin, 2010. Ages 9 and up.
In my decade as a school librarian, I often watched children poring over Macaulay’s remarkable architecture books. Rather than merely compiling his acclaimed books, Castle, Cathedral, and Mosque, Macaulay has created new colored illustrations, revised the text, and clarified some explanations.
While some might still long for the previously published cross-hatched illustrations, Macaulay’s changes enhance the reader’s experience of the architecture of the past. He ushers us into his Castle, for instance, with a double-spread illustration of a purple-robed king surveying a map, with pawns awaiting strategic placement. The castle Macaulay highlights is imagined but based on castles built for the conquest of Wales between 1277 and 1305, His interesting perspectives of the workers and how they go about building still capture the hearts of readers, young and old. In Cathedral, Macaulay was inspired by the 13th-century Gothic cathedrals of France. It’s hard to resist sharing Macaulay’s passion for the plans, methods and tools used by those builders “whose towering dreams still stand today.” Finally, the least changed a
In NYC recently, the Imperial City, they remembered John Leonard. Had there been any way to do it, I would have been there, even if I couldn't have gotten inside with all the literati; heck, I would've been happy just to stand in traffic for a bit and get the taxis honking in tribute. But no. I'll rely on reports. Such as this one from Charles Kaiser at CJR:
Family members, former colleagues, important writers, and intimate friends gathered yesterday to praise the critic John Leonard for his “love of the life of the mind,” his “incomparably informed generosity,” his reluctance to “pan books or movies or TV shows or children, except when absolutely necessary”—and his unlikely dependence on just ten words: “tantrum, cathedral, linoleum, moxie, thug, dialectic, splendid, brood, libidinal, and qualm.”
It's a nice piece, and best of all, peppered with Leonard's own words. Here's what he once said about Fran Lebowitz:
To a base of Huck Finn, add some Lenny Bruce and Oscar Wilde and Alexis de Tocqueville, a dash of cab driver, an assortment of puns, minced jargon, and top it off with smarty-pants. Serve without whine. This is the New York style, and I for one am glad that it survives and prospers because otherwise we might as well grow moss in unsurprising Omaha.
"Obviously," Kaiser says, "he had spotted a kindred spirit."
This is a Children's Illustration I made for a little cd that came with a book! It illustrates
a popular children's song called " A saia da Carolina" - " Caroline's skirt" hihi Hope you
like it!
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