On the Road: Tar Heel State

 

North Carolina was a large source of tar, pitch and turpentine for many years and around the time of the Civil War became known as the Tar Heel State and its inhabitants Tar Heelers.  Tar was used to coat the bottom of boats and a large amount was exported to England.  Initially, the term was a derogatory one, but later was adopted favorably as the state’s and its residents’ nickname.

We spent a week in North Carolina at Thanksgiving. We didn’t see any tar or turpentine, but did enjoy touring the Reynolda House in Winston-Salem, country home of A. J. Reynolds of tobacco fame and his wife Katharine.  Katharine was a very progressive woman for her time (1920’s) and she oversaw the building of the home, the creation of a school for the workers, and the beginnings of a village.  At one time, 300 families lived on the estate.  Unfortunately, she died in childbirth and barely spent any time here.   The house is impressive—bungalow style with an expansive main room featuring double staircases and an Aeolian organ plus garden rooms, porches, a jazzy red and white lower level bar cum entertainment space, and a stunningly gorgeous swimming pool!  The bungalow movement emphasized fresh air for good health and the porches and patios are designed to promote it. There are also extensive gardens, most of which were dormant, but a few rose blooms and cabbage heads remained and the conservatory showcased seasonal poinsettias and a few bromeliads.

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The featured exhibit, The Artist’s Garden: American Impressionism and the Garden Movement, 1887-1920, is a very pleasing collection of paintings.  Some familiar names here, Childe Hassam, for example, but mostly not works we’d seen anywhere else.  Organized by the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts in Philadelphia, it is worth seeing.

 

Central North Carolina has a lot of clay and has been a locus for pottery since the 1700’s.  Seagrove, south of Greensboro, and the surrounding area abound with studios open to the public.  We were there the day before Thanksgiving so many studios were closed, but we took advantage of the North Carolina Pottery Center to get oriented and see samples of about 80 different potters’ work. We then visited three studios and vowed that we needed to return for a full day to leisurely tour the area.  As you can see, I prefer the more contemporary designs.

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Bookstores for Book Lovers

I’m a longtime connoisseur of bookstores, particularly independent ones.  I have my favorites in the U.S. and even a few in the U.K.  In my opinion, a good bookstore smells of paper and ink, is light on the non-book miscellaneous merchandise (note cards are fine), has nooks and corners where you can linger and browse, offers a comfortable chair or two, and is laid out more like a maze than an array of aisles.

In Durham, we re-visited The Regulator Bookshop, a favorite haunt for at least 30 years. Located in the bustling 9th Street business corridor, The Regulator is scruffy in a good way.  There is a side room off the main area devoted to magazines and greeting cards, an open area with tables of books and books on shelves, a raised area for kids’ books, and a very welcoming long banquette. Many years ago, I spent several hours in that spot reading to my young son while our car was being repaired.  Downstairs, where once there was a coffee bar, there is now a space for events surrounded by used books and remainder titles.  Overall the store is inviting and always lively with readers of all ages.

A more recent addition to my list is McIntyre’s Books in Fearrington Village (near Chapel Hill) where for ten years or so, we’ve whiled away an occasional hour or two.  It’s more genteel than The Regulator which, considering its clientele of largely retirees, makes sense.  The store is carpeted and feels like being inside a home.  There are multiple rooms (one devoted to books for children through teens), another with a fireplace and comfy chairs, and yet another in the back packed with mystery books.  There are appealing displays of the latest titles and staff recommendations along with a focus on local and regional fiction and nonfiction.  I always find something to buy—usually too many “somethings!”

Book of the Week

I just finished Colum McCann’s latest work, Thirteen Ways of Looking, which is a collection of one novella and several short stories.  Not only is McCann an elegant stylist who makes every word count, he is accessible and witty and portrays his characters with compassion and understanding.  The title novella beautifully captures the thought processes and asides of a retired judge as he reflects on his career and negotiates lunchtime conversation with his favorite waiter and his fragile son.  And I thought the last story of a damaged nun, an outlier who is revisited by past trauma, was brilliant.  The New York Times included this title among its 100 notable books of the year.

Header image:  Discovery Room at the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences in Raleigh

(All photos copyright by JWFarrington)

Tidy Tidbits: Culture Notes

Not the Season But

You soon learn when you move here, that everyone refers to “the season.” The season runs from after Christmas through April and perhaps into May. It’s when the snowbirds fly south, all of the part-time residents are back, and the cultural season is in full swing. That said, although the season has not yet arrived, the pace has picked up, and there is a seemingly endless parade of local festivals and fairs, everything from chalk in Venice to blues in Bradenton. Recently, we enjoyed our first Sarasota Orchestra concert for 2015-16, the Sarasota Opera’s very fine production of “La Boheme” and the South Florida Museum’s annual Snooty Gala. Pianist Marc Andre Hamelin and the orchestra presented a memorable performance of Beethoven’s “Emperor” concerto along with two pieces by Shostakovich. An upcoming orchestra concert will feature violinist Leila Josefowicz whom we got to know during her years of study at the Curtis Institute.

On the Small Screen

These two TV series on PBS have ended or almost so, but I do think they are worth mentioning. In “Home Fires,” the focus is on the women in a small English town and their desire to help the war effort, but also on the rivalry for leadership of the Women’s Institute. Absorbing and convincing, it will immerse you in the daily lives of the villagers as tensions develop over the impending war.

The characters are many, the social and political alliances tangled and complex, and the accents sometimes thick, but “Indian Summers” is worth one’s time. Set in the early 1930’s at a summer retreat in the Himalayas, it depicts the waning power of the ruling British Colonials and the rising protest of the native classes. Both series are available on DVD.

On the Page

Empty Mansions: The Mysterious Life of Huguette Clark and the Spending of a Great American Fortune by Bill Dedman and Paul Clark Newell, Jr.

Some of you may recall the stir that was caused when Ms. Clark died at age 104 in 2011, and it was discovered that she owned several sumptuous properties preserved, but not lived in for decades.  They included a chateau style house in Connecticut purchased as a safe house, but never furnished and never visited. Raised in luxury in elegant surroundings on Fifth Avenue, Huguette Clark ended up living the last twenty years in a small, spare hospital room.

While occasionally reading like a sales catalog of fancy goods and art, this is both a lively family history (the first quarter details her father’s creation of a business empire the equal of the Rockefellers and his colorful, questionable career as a U.S. senator) and a fascinating account of this eccentric, strange, and yet generous woman.  Most of the people who worked for her or advised her never met her and dealt with her through letters or phone calls or via the few trusted individuals in her employ. She purchased dolls and art for her own enjoyment while giving away millions of dollars to staff and friends. Dedman’s co-author is Ms. Clark’s grandson and the inclusion of his phone conversations with Huguette shows a more personal side to this very private, secretive woman.

 

New York: Wonderful Whitney

On our last full day in New York, we made our first visit to the new Whitney Museum of American Art (to give its full name). Now located in the Meatpacking District a short walk from our apartment, it is in a stunning new building by Renzo Piano. For anyone who is familiar with Renzo’s other work, there are some recurring elements: lots of glass, metal staircases both internal and external, a public space on the roof, and a creative use of natural light. [I take the liberty of using his first name since I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know Renzo a bit in San Francisco and have visited him in both Paris and Genoa.] He was the architect for the California Academy of Sciences (2008) in Golden Gate Park and The Shard (2013) in London.

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The lines for entry were long, but you can bypass them if you buy your tickets online or, like we did, buy a membership. With all the time we plan to spend in New York, it seemed a wise investment.

 

 

 

 

An exhibit of works by Frank Stella had just opened and we did that first. Colorful paintings and almost ornate sculptures, sometimes of found objects, dominated the galleries. These were all large works. Outside were several complex star sculptures, one metal and one made of wood.

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The museum overlooks the High Line so while outside you can gaze down and watch the never-ending stream of casual walkers, commuters, and tourists.

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The other exhibit we spent time in was a retrospective of the works of Archibald Motley (1891-1981), an African American artist who painted the jazz scene as well as portraits of black society, both high and low, in 1920’s and 30’s Chicago. I had never heard of Motley nor seen any of his works and was drawn in by the intensity of his images and his use of strong vibrant, almost neon, colors. Unfortunately for me, the works I wanted to photograph were the ones where no photos were permitted.  But here is an example I found on the web.

NightLife. 1943 (https://maryckhayes.wordpress.com)
NightLife. 1943 (https://maryckhayes.wordpress.com)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Book of the Week

The Wall St. Journal reviewed it several weeks ago and the NY Times this past Sunday. The book is Becoming Nicole: The Transformation of an American Family by Amy Ellis Nutt. This is the absorbing, painful account of one young boy’s journey to becoming a female. Wyatt was one of two identical twins adopted by Kelly and Wayne Maines. From the age of two, Wyatt, unlike his brother Jonas, preferred dolls and girlish things. In a few years, he began to articulate his dislike of his “male parts” and his preference for female clothes and referred to himself as a “girl boy.” Eventually his parents allowed him to legally change his name.

This book is as much her parents’ story as it is Nicole’s. Her mother was tirelessly supportive, preparing teachers for her then son’s differences, getting him into counseling, seeking appropriate medical help, and then being there for Nicole to ensure her safety and emotional well-being as she outwardly and publicly became more of a girl. For her father, who envisioned teaching both his sons to hunt and shoot (pastimes he enjoyed growing up), the journey was a struggle and he left a lot of it to his wife. Over the course of Nicole’s growing up (she is now college age), society evolved and there is the beginning of greater acceptance of transgender individuals. Some of this change is due to a lawsuit filed by the Maines. All parenting brings a set of challenges, but these parents had an especially complex situation to navigate. Nutt’s inclusion of the latest studies on gender identity is helpful contextual information.

 

[Photos by the author unless otherwise indicated; some rights reserved]

Culture Notes: Monet, Murder & Identity

Sometimes one comes upon the most enjoyable books or movies by happenstance and other times it’s on the recommendation of a friend.

While I was in Philadelphia at the Barnes Foundation, I picked up a novel about Claude Monet called, Claude & Camille by Stephanie Cowell. Published in 2010, it’s a fascinating portrait of Monet’s early life with his wife Camille and the close friendships between him and Renoir, Pissarro, and particularly Frederic Bazille. These Impressionists (only dubbed so later on) worked against tradition and, hence, their works were unpopular and frequently did not sell.

Monet and Camille lived hand-to-mouth while he refused to take on any kind of normal job and she periodically worked to provide some limited funds. They regularly depended upon the kindness of friends, most often Bazille whose family had money. Add in Camille’s unstable temperament and Claude’s frequent absences and you have lives fraught with tension and distance. Success was slow in coming.

Cowell’s novel is historically based, but with a novelist’s license she has elaborated on the relationship between Camille and the other artists. Cowell also captures, some might say lovingly, the process of putting paint to canvas and creating color and light. One knows precisely which paintings they are without her ever giving the reader their titles.

A friend gave me a copy of a mystery she and a colleague co-authored. Set in Bethlehem, founded in 1741 and now a charming city in Pennsylvania’s Lehigh Valley, The Body in the Vat: Tales from the Tannery by Charlene Donchez Mowers and Carol A. Reifinger is light fare, short and fun. It will appeal to anyone who knows the city (lots of familiar venues from the Colonial Industrial Quarter to the Moravian Book Shop) and to others curious to learn more about Bethlehem’s Moravian heritage.  Proceeds are being shared with Historic Bethlehem Museums & Sites and the 275th Anniversary Committee of Moravians in Bethlehem.

Another friend recommended that we see Phoenix and we were not disappointed. This is a seriously good, serious German film about identity and betrayal and the heart. Getting out of the concentration camp after the war, damaged physically and emotionally, Nelly needs reconstructive surgery on her face. Although pressured to have a new look, she asks to look like she did before. After surgery, she sets out to find her husband who does not recognize her. Practicing with him to become herself, she embarks on a journey that is both disturbing and poignant. Who are we really? What is it that marks our unique identity? And why do we continue to trust in the face of betrayal? Dark and haunting, this is a film that lingers long after the last credit has rolled.

Header photo:  Monet’s Springtime (1872) from Google art project.jpg