Orchids

Walking home last night, I spied these orchids in a shop window. I love orchids, but still haven't made it out to this year's orchid show at the New York Botanical Garden. There are just too many things to do and too little time.

License to Drive

Do I really want to share the streets of Manhattan with someone whose license to drive is based on a five-hour class? With cabs, trucks and buses weaving from lane to lane and jockeying for position as if 6th Avenue was the track out at Belmont, inexperienced drivers face a daunting task. Add a little rain, or worse, snow, and the cab drivers, many of them from warmer, snowless climes, make the streets a demolition derby. When I first arrived in NYC nearly ten years ago, I navigated the streets rather nervously - and I considered myself an experienced driver who had even handled large ice delivery trucks during summer breaks from college. Now, on the rare occasions I actually get behind the wheel of a car, I'm quite comfortable in City traffic. Simply drive defensively and assume everyone is trying to hit you!

During my first year in Manhattan I was amazed at how little one needed to use a car. In fact, I could sometimes go three and four months without driving. Between cabs and public transportation a car really isn't necessary. And with free parking at a minimum and subject to numerous rules and "alternate side of the street" routines for street cleaning, having a car in the the city is truly a nuisance. And how many of us can afford $300+ a month for a secure garage space? So it's no surprise than many people keep their cars outside of NYC (as we usually have over the years) or they simply don't own a car. Many of our friends just rent a car if they need one for a weekend getaway or vacation. I'm also surprised at the number of people who simply don't have driver's licenses, a situation entirely antithetical to the auto-crazy environment which defines nearly all of this country. These residents, usually older, grew up in New York, relied on public transportation or other family members, and never wanted to take on the expense or stress of securing a license. Surprisingly, I also have friends my age and younger who find themselves in the same situation.

In the end, the best means of transportation in New York City is by foot. It's been estimated that New Yorkers walk far more than the average American, and I believe it. A mile or two for our family is an easy trip. (Accustomed to walking long distances, the kids managed a four-mile mountain hike in Vermont last October without complaint.) On Saturday we walked from Symphony Space on Broadway at 96th Street down to 72nd Street, enjoying the mild weather and parade of people. In suburbia I've known people who will drive from one end of a mall to the other just so they don't have to walk the length of the mall to reach a store. How wasteful - in so many ways!

WPA Posters

Over the last week I've been reading Nick Taylor's brand new history of the Works Progress Administration, American-Made: The Enduring Legacy of the WPA. I've long maintained a keen admiration for the WPA, which proved to be one of the most significant programs of the New Deal. Over eight years and $11 billion, the WPA employed 8.5 million Americans and saw the construction of airports, parks, roads, public swimming pools, and numerous other public works projects. The WPA employed writers, actors, artists, and historians, who collected an invaluable series of narratives from the remaining African-American citizens who had lived under slavery. Authors for the Federal Writers' Project even produced guidebooks for each of the states and many cities.

Yet my favorite part of the WPA program has to be the support given to the arts and artists themselves. And while I was especially familiar with the murals painted by WPA artists in post offices and other government buildings, I wasn't as well acquainted with examples of the poster art produced through WPA funding. Of course, posters constituted one of the most important media vehicles of this period, both here and abroad, and were used in advertising everything from movies to travel destinations. (One of my favorite series of posters, for example, is the collection created for the London subway system and Britain's national rail network during this period.) In an age before television, many of these posters represent the 1930s equivalent of our current PSAs, taking on subjects like hygiene, national security, and even safe sex.

Perusing a catalog of WPA posters I was surprised to see how many of these works - most often three- and four-color prints - resembled the socialist realism style then employed in Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union. Obviously the messages were different, but the artists often employed the same idioms of color and design!

Not surprisingly, conservatives in this country opposed the WPA, believing it represented a blatant example of the "creeping socialism" ascribed to Roosevelt's New Deal in general. Such opposition seems puzzling when one considers how many people benefited in areas where state and local governments had failed at relief efforts by 1935. Conservatives also asserted that the WPA was at best an acronym for "We Piddle Around," but this claim seems patently false against the legacy of WPA achievements.

In addition, opponents of the WPA loudly decried the record of federal funding for arts programs. Given the strain of anti-intellectualism that has infected American conservatism, particularly among religious conservatives, this charge isn't shocking. The last thing arch-conservatives wanted in the United States was educated masses with artistic sensibilities, believing the combination would facilitate the spread of liberalism, humanism, and even communism. (Although the anti-communist theme isn't as strong today for obvious reasons, the situation is little different. Indeed, according to Susan Jacoby in her recently-published monograph, The Age of American Unreason, anti-intellectualism in America seems even stronger now, which is starkly at odds with the Enlightenment foundation on which this country was founded.)

But enough sermonizing . . . Here are a few examples of the WPA-funded posters produced between 1935 and 1943. My favorites are the Lake Placid and Philadelphia Zoo posters.

Wearin' O' the Green

"Cheap Jacks," a great vintage clothing store on Fifth Ave. near the Empire State Building, recently changed their window displays to reflect the upcoming St. Patrick's Day festivities. I'm not sure if anyone would actually wear any of these green outfits, but perhaps the drunken merriment of the day would allow revelers to brave the streets of New York in a bright green suit or skirt. Watching parts of the St. Patrick's Day parade on TV each year, I can't imagine these fashions proving any more garish or outrageous than some of the ensembles on display.

I wear bow ties to the office every day, but I think that large example in the first picture would be a bit over the top for me. The suit is even more hideous. But the hat at the mannequin's feet could have come right out of the prop room for a 70s-era "blaxploitation" film akin to Superfly. The leisure suit blazer and flared-collar shirt are particularly unsettling because I once owned a leisure suit in the mid-1970s. Mine was yellow and my brother's was almost a seafoam green. What were my parents thinking?! My father the auditor dressed conservatively his entire professional life, rarely varying from basic dark suits. Indeed, the grey sameness of his wardrobe prompted my mother to observe that he dressed "like an undertaker." (I'll give him credit for going casual in his retirement, even to the point of wearing a leather jacket, which surprised everyone.)

Apple Tree, Version 2

I was so happy with the results on the apple tree painting that I decided to paint a variation over the weekend. This time the background is blue and the apples and leaves are perhaps a bit more vivid. I may even paint a third version with the apples either yellow, green, or a variegated red/yellow. My wife has suggested that I make high-quality scans of these and print them on notecards. Hmmmmm, this may be the push I need to start an Etsy site (long in the "planning" stage) with cards, prints and originals for sale.

Apple Tree

This started its life as a woodblock print. I drew the outlines, laboriously carved the block, and made several test prints. Unfortunately, I was never happy with the results, which always seemed uneven or irregularly printed. As a novice in that medium, obviously I was doing something wrong. So experimentation in that area will have to continue. However, I really liked this image of the apple tree and wanted to see a finished version. In the end, I decided to turn it into a painting. This is a 5" x 7" work, on Arches 140 lb. paper, using a combination of watercolors and Japanese ink and brush. This is the result I had hoped to achieve with the woodblock. This is the second painting in which I've used the Japanese ink and brush and I'm really pleased with the results. Although it's unforgiving and requires a steady hand for areas of fine detail, this ink is very smooth and offers a beautifully stark contrast to the washes of color.

Signs

Weekend Photos

Just a few shots from the weekend. The first is from a building on 10th St. in the West Village. It appears to have been a warehouse at one time, but like so many other buildings in the neighborhood, has been converted into apartments. I liked this for the shading and texture of the bricks, as well as the interplay between the sunlight and the brickwork's geometry. The remaining three photos are from the Church of St. Anthony of Padua on Sullivan St. at Houston. Founded in 1866, it is staffed by Franciscans and is the oldest Catholic parish founded as a ministry to Italian immigrants in the U.S. It's been used in quite a few movies, including The Godfather II.

Bush's Beef

The recent recall of ground beef, the largest in U.S. history, once again underscores the perfidious nature of the Bush administration's domestic policies, particularly in regard to its failure to protect ordinary Americans from the dangers precipitated by corporate rapacity. Indeed, under Bush's leadership, organizations like the Department of Agriculture, the FDA, the EPA, OSHA, and MSHA, have found their staffs cut, regulations rolled back, and leadership positions filled with corporate insiders. So it's no surprise that the incestuous relationship between the corporate interests/lobbying groups that have bankrolled Bush and the federal regulatory agencies seems analogous to putting the wolf in charge of guarding the hen house.

In 1906 Upton Sinclair published a little book on the meat-packing industry - The Jungle - which highlighted the unsanitary conditions in which beef was processed. The book shocked Americans, including reform-minded President Theodore Roosevelt. Although a Republican, Roosevelt was a torchbearer of the Progressive movement, a reform impulse with its roots in the 1880s and 1890s. Thanks to muckrakers like Ida Tarbell and Jacob Riis, state and local governments passed legislation to improve working conditions for many American laborers. Even the federal government responded to the greed and predatory practices of the "robber barons" of the Gilded Age and enacted measures like the Interstate Commerce Act and the Sherman Anti-Trust Act. Thanks to the public outrage generated by Upton Sinclair's work, and the support of Teddy Roosevelt, Congress passed the Pure Food and Drug Act and the Meat Inspection Act which authorized Department of Agriculture inspections of packing plants and also paved the way for the creation of the Food and Drug Administration (FDA).

Unfortunately, that Progressive spirit, and the belief that government has a role to play in insuring the safety of the products consumed by Americans, has been cast aside by Bush and his conservative allies under the guise of a "less government is better" sentiment. What really motivates them, however, is the close relationship they enjoy with the country's agri-business giants and corporate monoliths. Naturally corporations want as little regulation as possible, since regulation ostensibly diminishes profits. Mind you, this tug of war between corporate greed and the public interest is nothing new. As a nation we've witnessed the ill effects of this struggle for over a century. And as we so often see in history, the relationship between these two sides has been cyclical in nature. Obviously we're now in a period of corporate strength, with consumers suffering the consequences.

Surveying the wasteland of the Bush administration and its policies, Americans need to initiate a new reform impulse, calling on governments at every level to insure the safety of our citizens and allow our regulatory agencies to carry out their mandate free of the cancerous influence of corporate lobbyists and former executives. As something of a socialist, I naturally favor as much regulation as possible. Indeed, I would love to see a return of the spirit which guided FDR's "New Deal" and LBJ's "Great Society" programs. Although our next president will never advocate such radical reform - since both Democrats and Republicans owe fealty to a diverse field of corporations and special interest groups - the winner in November will have to address the mess left behind by Bush in nearly every agency, from the Justice Department to OSHA. Without this effort, the new president can neither maintain his credibility nor hope to restore Americans' faith in their government.

Newest Painting: Water Tank

Here's my latest effort, finished over the weekend. After taking so many pictures of rooftop water tanks it was just a matter of time before I tried to paint one, particularly since most of my works incorporate architectural themes. I think I've mentioned before that a majority of these water tanks are wooden and hand assembled by just a few companies, most of them having been in business for several generations.

As usual I was going for a different perspective here, placing the viewer at the bottom of the high wall on the right, looking up to the tank, buildings and fire escape. The glass was a challenge, in part because I didn't want merely to render all of the windows in the same color. On a sunny day Manhattan windows are a riot of reflections, picking up the hues of the sky as well as neighboring buildings. So my goal was to convey that sense of reflectiveness. (I also really like the old painted advertisements on NY buildings. I'm not sure of the age of this building, so don't know when the fur company might have been in business. Watercolor and pencil, 9" x 12", Fabriano cold press paper.

Moving Day

There are few tasks as abysmally tiresome and stress-inducing as moving. Indeed, I rank "moving" near the bottom of the "Least Fun Things to Do" list, in close proximity to funerals, dentist visits, waiting at the DMV, and sitting through "Sesame Street Live" at Madison Square Garden. (Actually, funerals are probably higher on the list because they're usually over in an hour and don't involve heavy lifting - unless you're one of the pallbearers.)

Like so many New Yorkers - including most of my friends - I've rented storage space since moving here. It's amazing how big the storage business is in this city. Storage companies advertise everywhere, from billboards to subway cars. Some promise a free first month, free car services to and from one's storage building, and elaborate climate control systems. Since most of us live in tiny apartments with only two or three closets, one either lives with a clutter of boxes or rents storage. So like everyone else I had much of my previous life locked away in a Chelsea warehouse: books and more books, lots of heavy furniture, antique glassware and art pottery, an artificial Christmas tree and ornaments, part of my wife's huge yarn stash, and boxes of miscellaneous pots, pans, and household items.

If you live in New York you're familiar with the transformation of the Chelsea neighborhood over the last few years. The area has become famous for its art galleries and trendy restaurants. The warehouse in which my stuff was stored has gradually been converting floors to galleries. At the beginning of February we learned that the remainder of the building was being converted and all storage spaces had to be vacated by the 29th. Although we had talked about doing something with storage for eons, inertia allowed us to continue talking - without actually doing anything - until now.

Yesterday we rented a 16 ft. truck from Penske (with a good reputation for having trucks that won't leave you on the side of the road like U-Haul or Ryder), emptied the two storage rooms and loaded everything onto the truck, drove to Danbury, CT, and unloaded everything into my late mother-in-law's house, then drove the truck back to Manhattan and finally turned it in. It took us 11 hours to accomplish the whole ordeal. But I can joyfully say that for such an onerous task, we completed it without any glitches - no breakdowns, traffic jams, or packing nightmares. Yes, it was dirty, back-breaking work, made more difficult by the snow on the ground in Connecticut. We also had to take a convoluted route out of the City because so many of the turnpikes and parkways are restricted to passenger cars only. The truck routes can be quite tricky and involve much more city driving.

Naturally there was the expected bickering and grumbling at the beginning of the day, but once we started working my wife and I rediscovered some of that sense of teamwork one hopes to muster under such difficult circumstances. When we finally settled into bed - after hot showers and several Advil - we were congratulating ourselves for the day's efforts. (I vowed, however, that the next time we move anything, we're paying someone else to do the lifting! I'm too old to tackle this again.)

Random Shots

Here's a sample of photos from my walks of the last few days. The first two shots are of a great building on Houston St. just below Broadway. I love the late afternoon sun . . . and the geometry of the fire escape against the architectural ornamentation. I know I promised no more water tanks, but here's the shadow of a tank cast on an NYU housing tower on Houston St. The final image is of the "BVM" (what some of my Catholic friends call the "Blessed Virgin Mary") outside of St. Anthony of Padua Church on West Houston and Sullivan St.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow . . .

We finally have some measurable snow in the City, with perhaps three to four inches having fallen by Noon. It's always interesting to watch how New Yorkers react to snowy days. Manhattan, of course, barely slows down unless the snowfall surpasses a foot in depth. Schools remain open. Everyone goes to work. Cabs, buses, and subways shuttle the herds about, and perhaps the only inconvenience are the slush-filled crosswalks that can reduce one's feet to wet, freezing lumps of flesh - even in boots. Central Park, my favorite destination in the snow, becomes a wonderland, with sledders and cross-country skiers needing only a couple of inches to hit the Park's trails and excellent hills. Indeed, with public schools on mid-Winter break this week, I'm sure Central Park is full at this very moment with snow-starved revelers.

Not everyone loves the snow, however. Walking around town one quickly spots those people for whom the snow is just a nuisance. They usually walk hunched over, almost tip-toeing through the white powder, scowls on their faces, all but shouting out their disdain for those of us who enjoy the white stuff. My boss and I, having grown up in the South and witnessed no more than a few inches of snow each year, delight in these moments. This morning we both heard that quiet voice of our childhood calling out to play in the snow. We obliged by going out and building a little snowman/angel on our front step. Some people may have thought we're crazy, but many passers-by stopped to chat and take pictures.

Finding plenty to be grumpy about, I think it's easier to accept the snow and its slippery reminder of winters long past. Rather than scowl at the weather and curse the slush, take a moment to make a snowball or stomp through the little drifts made by the snow blowers and shovelers clearing off the sidewalks. Put on your boots and march through Central Park. Enjoy the snow!

Music Recommendation

For those of you who are addicted to your iPods and are constantly looking for new music, check out Gerald Finzi's "Romance For Strings," which is available on iTunes. Finzi (1901-1956) was a contemporary and confidant of Ralph Vaughan Williams, and like Vaughan Williams often employed traditional English folk melodies in his compositions. "Romance for Strings" was composed in 1928 but not performed for the first time until 1951.



(Photo taken last night from a restaurant on Bleecker St. at 6th Ave., looking uptown to the Empire State Bldg.)

Weekend Shots: Jefferson Market Library

If you've followed this blog for a few months, you've seen this building before: the Jefferson Market Library, one of the most prominent structures in Greenwich Village. It was built in 1887 as a courthouse, with an adjoining women's prison. The prison is long since gone, the site now occupied by a beautiful community garden on Greenwich Ave. Of course, I've painted and photographed the library many times, and I was fortunate to see it over the weekend in that great late afternoon light, and then after dark. Without a tripod on hand, the night photo is sub-par. The watercolor sketch, done about two years ago, is on 3.5" x 9.5" Sennelier paper.

End of an Era in Cuba

The announcement of Fidel Castro's retirement as Cuba's primary leader represents the end of an era - to a point. In fact, the installation of his brother promises little substantive change. Moreover, as long as Fidel remains alive and conscious, he will continue to exert influence over Cuba's course, even if that leadership is only symbolic. Reacting to the news, President Bush has again displayed his political naivete by declaring that Cuba should now welcome reform and the "blessings of democracy." (Rather than pontificate on Cuba's future, Mr. Bush should first contemplate bestowing the "blessings" of a democratic system on some of the forgotten parts of the U.S.)

At the height of the Cold War one could argue that Cuba represented a strategic hub and potential flash point. The Cuban Missile Crisis certainly illustrated its significance as a potential striking point from which the Soviet Union might attack the United States. Given the anti-Soviet "containment policy" which shaped American foreign policy for more than 40 years after World War II, one can easily understand the U.S. embargo against Cuba. But in the years since the Soviet Union's collapse, that embargo has made less and less sense. Certainly Cuba no longer enjoys the strategic significance it maintained in the 1960s and 70s. In economic terms it is a poor player in Caribbean and Latin American affairs. Yet Castro - and by association, Cuba and its people - have remained a symbolic "bogeyman" in our back yard, periodically rebuked by both Democratic and Republican administrations. Acknowledging the changing political landscape of the last 20 years, policies designed to punish Castro and Cuba seem ideologically untenable, borne of monolithic anti-Communism.

Of course, many liberal Americans have been calling for a revision of our Cuba policy for years. But conservatives, backed by the powerful Cuban lobby in south Florida, have continued to wave the red flag of anti-Communism, calling for "democratic" reforms in Cuba as a condition for friendlier relations and aid. What few of these hardliners like to talk about is the utter oppressiveness of the U.S.-backed Batista regime that was overthrown by Cuban revolutionaries in 1959. Moreover, they don't like to acknowledge the successes wrought by Castro and his government over the last 50 years. For example, although the country remains desperately poor, its people enjoy access to an educational system and medical care that are the envy of Latin America.

In the last year of his presidency Bush seems desperate to rescue the historical legacy of his administration with foreign policy initiatives. His domestic policies have failed miserably, unless one counts tax cuts for corporate interests and the wealthy as benchmarks of success. If Mr. Bush really wants to make a difference abroad, he should announce the end of the U.S. embargo against Cuba and offer an aid package to the Cuban people - with no strings attached. At this point, he has nothing to lose politically. And since he's so anxious to divert attention from the quagmires in Iraq and Afghanistan, a revised Cuba policy presents itself as a decidedly humanitarian option. Sure, aiding Cuba won't wash the wasted blood of thousands from his hands, but it certainly represents a start for an administration that has perhaps irreparably soiled this country's reputation.

Lent, Part I: Addition or Subtraction?

There's a Simpson's episode in which a bored Lisa and Bart look to Marge for help. Suggesting board games, she offers several choices: "Citizenship," "The Energy Shortage Game," "Hippo in the House," and "The Game of Lent," which clearly looks like a parody of the old "Game of Life" that so many of us played as kids. Remember the little cars with pink and blue pins to represent one's spouse and offspring? Although Bart and Lisa turn down the offer, one suspects that in the warped minds of Simpson's writers, "The Game of Lent" would have included spaces like, "Yield to Temptation: Move back three spaces and say the Lord's Prayer five times."

Growing up as a Southern Baptist I never heard of Lent - or Advent, Maundy Thursday, and Epiphany, for that matter. Those were days observed by Catholics, whom, I recall, were always regarded with implied suspicion, as if they performed macabre rituals involving the "body and blood of Christ" behind their closed doors. Who could have imagined the dark arts imputed to the "holy mysteries" of transubstantiation or the rosary?! So even after I became an Episcopalian in my thirties, the practice of Lent still seemed alien, even if the concept of penitential contemplation proved obvious. It's rather like Advent on "downers" - a time of "preparation," but without the carols, wreaths, candles and parties. Those sentiments are ostensibly eaten away in an orgy of pancake suppers and church social hall "Mardi Gras" dinners on Shrove Tuesday.

Around Shrove Tuesday and Ash Wednesday this year I tried to listen in on conversations that might reveal people's thoughts on the coming season. And from bus and subway to bodega and restaurant, it was interesting to hear how some will observe the Lenten season. For example, there were the traditional declarations of "I'm giving up x or y for Lent," with x and y most often being chocolate, alcohol, red meat, TV, and cigarettes. On Ash Wednesday I even overheard one restaurant patron declare while waiting in line: "I'm going to try and be nicer to people during Lent." (Thought: If you're using Lent to be a "nicer" person, you've got bigger issues than one can solve in a 40-day period. Moreover, one is compelled to wonder if this person is normally mean-spirited. Perhaps she's thinking, "Ok, as soon as that first Easter brunch bloody mary is drained, all bets are off; I'm going back to my bitchy self.")

A few years ago I heard a Lenten sermon by an Episcopal priest who addressed this practice of yearly denial. Commenting on the silliness of so many Lenten promises to abstain from, deny, or strip away these little physical elements of our daily lives, he noted that too many Christians over-ritualize and over-simplify the practice of Lenten disciplines, thus missing the point entirely. To me they seem akin to New Year's Resolution do-overs, made manageable by their finite scale. In the end, our Rector concluded his sermon by recommending the more active option of "taking on" something new that might prove enriching to ourselves and others. His examples included volunteering for community service organizations (like a soup kitchen, food pantry, or homeless shelter), committing oneself to new worship opportunities (for example, attending morning or evening prayer services, or engaging one's family in the nightly service of Compline, which is a lovely service in the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer). These represented only the most obvious possibilities. Of a decidedly academic bent, I decided to take the scholarly route and read on matters spiritual. He urged us to be creative. And although my theology has expanded beyond the narrow confines of Christian dogmatism, being inclusive of several lexicons of faith at present, I've continued this Lenten practice adopted when I lived in Tennessee. Right now, for example, I'm reading Kathleen Norris's Dakota: A Spiritual Geography. (Photo: RC Church of St. Vincent Ferrer, Lexington Ave.)

To be continued

Virtual Refrigerator

Those of you with kids have no doubt used your refrigerators for posting recent artwork, report cards, and the ephemera of myriad milestones. Our fridge, however, is covered with sports photos - our boys in soccer and baseball uniforms stretching back to their first T-ball moments, some framed as faux "Sports Illustrated" covers and "Wheaties" boxes. Their art work - at least since nursery school - has been placed in acid-free archival boxes, waiting for that embarrasasing moment decades hence when we can pull them out and show prom dates, fiances, and college roommates the first artistic scribblings of Ben and Sam.

Ben likes art but his first love is sports. Sam (age 7), however, loves drawing and painting and has listed "book illustrator" as one of his future careers. Although I would never try to force one of my children into any profession (and I knew plenty of people at VMI who were expected to become x, y, or z upon graduation), I will try to help with those disciplines for which they show a keen interest. So I've tried to make sure Sam has plenty of good books in which the illustrations are just as important as the words. John J. Muth, our favorite, is a uniquely gifted storyteller whose watercolors are unsurpassed. I enjoy the books as much as Ben and Sam. Muth has garnered considerable praise for Zen Shorts, Stone Soup, The Three Questions, and his most recent, Zen Ties. In most of these works he uses ancient Buddhist teachings, reshaped in terms children can understand, to support the stories. I highly recommend all of them.

So Sam has been writing stories and illustrating them for some time. But he also keeps pads of paper, strips of construction paper, and chunks of cardboard for drawing and doodling. The first image is his take on a genie emerging from a lamp. The larger image was a product of studying Picasso and abstract art at school. It's a woman in curlers, he declared. (He often draws pictures with these looping, curving, lines. It really defines his "style" - if one can say a 7-year-old has a distinctive style.)