Lunch at Anthony's

June 27, 2010

Lunch at Anthony's

Some of you might already know that I've been interning at Clarke Quay this summer! :) Perfect internship, but pretty lonely because I'm the only intern, and most of my friends work in the Financial District (i.e., Raffles Place/City Hall/Tanjong Pagar). Lucky for me, Uncle Anthony's shop is but 2 busy streets away from my office! Everyday, I am haunted by fleeting thoughts of how it might feel to be roadkill as I jaywalk across the two streets. Of course I could always use the pedestrian crossing, but that would increase the time taken to get there by all of five minutes - all very precious when all you've got is an hour for lunch.

But it's all worth it because Uncle Anthony's shop has great music, interesting antiques, and even more interesting customers who are usually drawn by the things they cannot afford. Plus he serves good tea, and his frequent visitors are clients who've been doing business with him for decades. In a world where everything feels like it's changing too quickly, it's great to have a place like that in one's life.

Brought my camera down to his place one afternoon and photographed some of the items in his shop because some of them have the most curious and lifelike expressions, and I just had to get a piece without actually buying them.

Here's the Guardian of the Door. Visitors entering the shop are greeted by this jade camel.

THE CHICKEN BECKONS FROM THE STOREFRONT
A pair of these in my doorway would add a dash of vibrance to my vanilla/white coloured interiors. I'm talking about my dream house here.

THE FALLEN YEKATERINA
Being the scion of a rather successful businessman and antique dealer has benefitted Uncle Anthony's art collection greatly. This painting was a gift to his father, and sits on the floor, right at a typical toddler's eye level...

I think the subject looks Russian, doesn't she? It was painted by a Chinaman, and that fierce and rather unhappy expression on her face suggests that she was forced to lie there and be painted... which raises a few questions about the painter's inclinations. She looks like she's trapped in that frame, and would like nothing more than to tear the painter's eyes out.

And why would a Caucasian need to lie there and be painted by a Chinaman? If there were a real model for this painting, I would imagine that she was one of Shanghai's Russians - a former aristocrat who'd escaped the 1917 Bolshevik revolution, and was now penniless after pawning her jewellery for food and shelter.

...And now reduced to modelling for a Chinese painter with a taste for dominance.

Clearly I've been reading too much.

CAPTAIN OATS

Is clearly heterosexual. He spends all day watching The Fallen Yekaterina.