Category Archives: culture

Chapel of the Virgin de Guadalupe with central image of Virgin and worshippers flanking either side, fashioned of multi-colored glass mosaics.

Mosaic Moments

mosaics, travel, Washington, DC, ,

How patient are you? Imagine facing a two-year project that involves arranging fourteen million tiny pieces of Venetian glass into an 18,299 square foot mosaic. Then imagine a whole huge basilica full of wall and ceiling mosaics.

On a recent visit to the Bascilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in the Brookland/Catholic University neighborhood of Washington, DC, I was simultaneously craning my neck and exercising my sense of wonder. The main part of the massive church, and every nook and cranny, it seemed, was covered with millions upon millions of these tiny glass squares arranged into massive, yet intricate, art works.

Having, during the pandemic, gotten into collaging, putting mere dozens of small pieces of cut up magazines together into something approximating art, I just could not get my head around the creation of these mosaics. Luckily, a little research lead me to this short but very informative video which gives a behind the scenes view of the artists and craftspeople at the Travisanutto Mosaic Studio in Spilimbergo, Italy creating the most recent dome mosaic for the basilica. Thence to the Travisanutto Studios web site with more information.

This is the sort of rabbit hole that us folklorists love going down. And while I don’t have time to pursue learning more about the tradition of mosaic art right now, I am still marveling at the basilica’s examples, and urge anyone living in or visiting Washington, DC to check them out. If you are Catholic (which I’m not) they will have more spiritual significance. But, even if you just like art or want to spend a couple of hours pondering human creativity, this is some special stuff.

Exercise your patience and don’t rush through. Think about how every tiny piece of glass contributes to the whole, and make it your own metaphor.

Long view of the main portion of the church showing domes. Think not only of creating this art in a studio, but then installing it hundreds of feet in the air. Crazy!
My favorite chapel was the one devoted to the Virgin de Guadalupe. Not sure about the authenticity of the clothing of the worshippers that flank both sides of the image of the Virgin, but the multicultural variety was interesting. The range of colors used overall, and the expressive nature of the faces of the people is quite amazing.
Even the “minor” domes in the chapels are dazzling. This one had a lot of sparkly gold. (Who doesn’t like sparkly gold?) and I liked the incorporation of the stained glass as well.
Down the street in downtown Brookland, there is an Arts Walk, also worth checking out, although most of the artist’s studios and shops are only open on the Saturdays. We found this mural across the street from the Arts Walk, but as the mosaics put me in a state of wonder, I liked the sentiment “to all who wonder” and its subtle double entendre.

George Alfred Townsend: A Gap(land) in our Knowledge

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Nature and some largely forgotten history converged on a little post-Thanksgiving jaunt we took this weekend.  The Appalachian Trail intersects with a small park called Gathland in rural Washington, County, Maryland.   I wish I could say we went on a hike, but since the light was failing when we finally got there, we just explored the mute, stone testimonies to the man who was George Alfred Townsend, AKA “Gath.”

One of the two interpretive signs that deal directly with this enigma of a war correspondent and author of several novels includes the quote, “Mankind is always interesting, but is also fatiguing.”  As a successful writer, with it would seem substantial financial means, Gath and his beloved wife Bessie built a country estate to escape mankind and Washington, DC.

As most of the other ten or so signs describe various aspects of Civil War campaigns in the area, one does not learn much more about Gath, his life, and work from the site.  Bessie gets even shorter shrift.  The buildings remaining in the park, constructed from an attractive local stone, include Gath’s “empty tomb” – highly creepy, even if his mortal remains did not end up there – and the ruins of what appears to have been a very large barn.  There are also two houses intact, and the park web site promises a museum in one of them, open in the tourist season.

The central attraction of the property is a massive and curious memorial to war correspondents, planned and perhaps financed by Gath.  It towered over the peaceful late fall landscape like the sole remaining wall of a castle, with arches and crenelations, statuary and niches.  And a weather vane.

Perhaps we will return to visit the museum if/when it is open. Perhaps we will acquire a copy of one of Gath’s novels, such as The Entailed Hat, or Patty Cannon’s Times (as you see from this link, it is available on Amazon) and read it to better understand this contemporary of Mark Twain’s.  Perhaps not.  Meanwhile, visiting what remains of Gath’s country estate and trying to decipher his life from the meager outdoor interpretation available in the park made for an interesting afternoon.

Teddy Roosevelt in Buffalo: Mystery in History Solved

culture, tourism, travel, , ,

While in Buffalo recently for the annual American Folklore Society meetings, I had some free time to explore this fascinating city.  (Yes, it is much more than hot wings and Niagra Falls.)  I set off to explore why Theodore Roosevelt was inaugurated in Buffalo in 1901.

I set off on a brisk (due to the 40sF temperature and wind) walk from downtown, admiring the architecture along the way, and soon arrived at the Theodore Roosevelt Inaugural Historical Site

This stately mansion houses not only the library where Roosevelt was inaugurated, but an impressive array of interactive displays for deeper dives.  While you wait for your guided tour through the house, you are immersed in an exhibit on the 1901 Pan Am Exposition,  a sort of world’s fair designed to showcase everything progressive and superior about America.  Considering that electricity, and even ice cream, were new things back then, there was a lot to ooh and aah over at this fantastic city of the future for the people of the day, and putting yourself in their place via the displays was fun.

Things get decidedly darker when the tour guide puts on a video that explains how, after a rousing speech about the wonders of the exposition and of America, President McKinley is shot while greeting well wishers.  (Obviously at least one person, Leon Czolgosz, did not wish him well at all.)  TR was the Vice President, and when poor McKinley finally succumbed to his wounds (unfortunately he did not die instantly but suffered in the hands of inferior medical practices of the day), Roosevelt was summoned to Buffalo to pay his respects and get sworn in.

The next area imagines the many pressing issues of the day that must have been going through Roosevelt’s mind as he prepared to take over the presidency.  Many of them sounded disturbingly familiar to those of us reading the news in 2018:  immigrants flooding the country; poor race relations; and rampant devastation of natural resources in some of the country’s most spectacular wild landscapes, among others.

Poor old Teddy had his hands full, in other words.  As those of us who know a little something about his personal history (or find out more through a visit to one of the many TR historical sites around the country), he was not exactly perfect.  (Let’s not get into such things as the eminent domain of the Philippines, destructive safaris in Africa, etc.)

In any case, the tour through the house, standing in the library were the inauguration took place, seeing a pile of facsimiles of telegrams (the email – or even Twitter – of the day) that he needed to address, and then diving into more history in the upstairs rooms of the mansion where you can pose with a larger-than-life cut out, pretend to be president, and contemplate further how far, but then again how close, we still are to issues of 1901, was all very interesting and powerful experience.  Thanks to our tour guide and the staff of the site for an enlightening couple of hours.

 

A Spark in Salisbury

culture, National Folk Festival, tourism

This past weekend, I attended and helped present some artists at the National Folk Festival in Salisbury, Maryland.   The National is a long weekend event organized by the National Council for the Traditional Arts in partnership with local organizations, which moves every three years (theoretically at least) between cities willing to give up a substantial portion of their downtown to street closings, endure the infrastructure that it takes to put up stages on said streets, and brave throngs of locals and tourists who (hopefully) swarm to the event.

It’s a huge gamble for a relatively small city.  But, to their credit, Salisbury bought into it (thanks to the persuasive organizers and a feeling that the city “deserved” such an honor as a prestigious national festival) and the result seems positive.  Even though it rained most of the weekend, people came out with their umbrellas and their rain slickers in numbers not expected in such weather.

As usual, the line up of artists was stellar, including some things that Salisburians have surely never experienced and never even imagined existed.  Inuit throat singers?  Peruvian scissors dancers?  Tap dancing feet as a percussion instrument?  Check.  And some local things that tourists didn’t know was a thing… like muskrat skinning and cooking.

 

On the Sunday, I worked with participants from the Pocomoke Indian National during a sort of pop-up presentation at their demonstration area.  They decided to show the visitors huddling under the tent, sheltering out of the persistence drizzle, how to make fire with friction, using a board and a sort of reed.  The visitors watched patiently as the participants tried time and again to coax a spark out of the damp wood.  Finally, a tiny spark emerged and took hold into an ember, which was nurtured into a warm flame.  Cheers arose from the small but attentive audience.

I thought that spark and the resulting flame an apt metaphor for the National in Salisbury.  From the spark of the idea to stage the National in the city, the flame of the festival resulted, and will hopefully bloom (despite the damp and other obstacles that might be thrown in the way) into two more years of an exciting event showcasing excellent folk practitioners from the region and the world.

Sharing Art, Culture and an Apple

#myculturemystory, culture, memories, travel, West Bengal, ,

I promise not to write blogs about our Communities Connecting Heritage cultural exchange project forever.  But, I had one last one to share here.  And, the only other thing that has been happening to me lately involves my mother and assisted living… which I’m not ready to write about yet at all.

During our three-week cultural exchange hosting five Bengali friends here in DC, we made many personal cultural connections.  On the afternoon of July 11, I took Mamoni Chitrakar, a traditional patachitra scroll painter, to the Smithsonian American Art Museum and Portrait Gallery, wanting to share their exhibitions of American folk art with her, as well as the portraits of the presidents.

Before viewing a dizzying array of art, including the works crammed into close quarters at the Luce Center to maximize our time, we fortified ourselves at the cafe in the magnificent Kogod Courtyard between the two museums.  We shared a sandwich (relatively easy to cut in half with a plastic knife) and a rock-hard Red Delicious apple.  Anyone who has ever tried to cut one of those beauties with a plastic knife knows the drill.

Our attempts at halving this large fruit specimen were at first frustrating, but then we both began to giggle.  Since our mutual knowledge of each other’s language is minimal (she is doing much better at English than I am doing at Bengali, though) we didn’t have words, we only had facial expressions and our laughter at our futile attempts, the butchery that ensued, and the juice all over the table before we were successful.  It was all that we needed.

Mamoni is back home now, but I think of her every day, and my fondest memory was her laughter and her smile.  I admire her bravery in leaving her family and coming to a strange country for three whole weeks, her eagerness to share her culture, and her willingness to try anything – even cutting an apple with a plastic knife.

I was thinking of writing a poem about the experience – still might – but for now, I leave you with this thought.  Share an experience with someone from a culture other than yours.   Whether its a chat on the train, some other chance encounter like a taxi ride, or an actual planned cultural exchange.  Don’t worry about language, just have fun with it.  Giggling is not required but helps.  You won’t regret it, though it might be a bit uncomfortable or messy.  Just do it.  Like the bodily nourishment of that shared apple, sharing culture feeds the soul.

 

 

Remains of the Days

#myculturemystory, culture, memories, West Bengal,

I’m recouping from an intense few weeks of the Smithsonian Folklife Festival and the three-week in-person visit of our Communities Connecting Heritage “Learning Together” team from the state of West Bengal, India.  So many logistics, so much running around, and so little time to process the whole double experience!

The Festival was fun for me, since I had visited one of the featured countries – Armenia – and I had gotten to meet many of the folks who became researchers and presenters.  (To get a sense of what I learned – and didn’t learn – there, check out my work blog on “Armenian Sneakers“!)  The program was a lovely space in which to let the warm and talented Armenian artisans ply their skills.  I enjoyed spending time there very much, munching on lavash (flat bread being baked in a clay oven on the premises), trying my hand at some crafts (I failed miserably at “walnut embroidery”), and experiencing the recreation of a traditional Armenian wedding, and just chatting with folks.

I didn’t have a lot of time to enjoy the Festival as a whole, though, since I led the team of responsible hosts for the CCH visit.   (Really our Coordinator and summer interns did a great deal of the heavy lifting, planning and execution as well.  It was a true team effort.)  Our aim was to introduce the group to the culture of Washington, DC and environs while allowing them to share their own amazing culture with a wide audience, and I think we succeeded for the most part.

So much planning, so many details, and then suddenly it’s all over.  The agenda runs to the final page, we get them on a plane, and they are off.  So much to think about and process.  So much good stuff to write about!  For now, a few photos and many more on our Facebook page (link above) if you’re interested.  And more reflections to come both here and on our work site in the future.

 

India in New Jersey – An Excursion in and Around Edison

Down Home on the Farm

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Having spent my formative years living in rural Vermont, though I don’t think about it much since I now live in the close-in ‘burbs, I do feel at home on a farm.  Even when it’s a historic farm like Landis Valley Village and Farm Museum, which I visited last week during a conference in Harrisburg, PA.

I am happy walking a country road and communing with cattle and crops.  I especially grooved on the presentation of the heritage seed program they have at Landis Valley.  Hundreds of heirloom tomato seeds!  My favorite was one called the Mortgage Lifter.  Gotta get me some of those next year.

I also learned a lot in the farm equipment part of the tour.  Like many, I assumed the Conestoga Wagon was the conveyance that the “pioneers” took across the mountains.  Not so, it was actually the 18-wheeler of its day!

At the end of the visit, clutching the chamomile plant I purchased which I hope will thrive in my side yard herb patch (which shares space with lots of weeds and where the mint has run wild), I was content to have gotten a farm fix.

Peacock Pandemic

#myculturemystory, culture, memories, peacocks, travel, West Bengal, ,

It all started with the Emotional Support Peacock.

The news of its owner trying to wrangle her bird onto a United flight broke the same day our Communities Connecting Heritage program group left for Kolkata, India.  In our giddy state of excitement about the trip, we all giggled heartily about the ridiculousness of the idea.

When we got to India, we immediately began seeing images of peacocks – everywhere, including a huge photo of one near the baggage claim of the Kolkata airport.  Were peacocks following us?  Or were we just hyper sensitive to them in the near-out-of-body-experience of having flown halfway across the world on very little sleep?  

Well, it turns out, the peacock is the National Bird of India.  It also figures prominently in Hindu mythology.   As we traveled around West Bengal, I started taking photos of all the peacock images we saw.

 

My favorite was a saucy peacock depicted in a small scroll painting which I purchased in Naya Village, serving as the conveyance of one of the Hindu gods who is carrying an arrow.  (This is probably Kartikeya or Murugan, god of war, but depending on which story you want to go with, there could be some other contenders.)   

Our colleague Ananya in Kolkata recently sent us some English translations of baul songs, which we had been asking about.  As I read through the first one, I found – you guessed it – reference to peacocks.  Here is the excerpt:

“What color is your cottage/on the shore of this bogus world?/The frame of your home is made of bones/and the roof is thatched with skin./But the pair of peacocks/on the landing-pier/hardly know that/they will end one day.”

I’m not sure exactly what that means, though I know it has something to do with the bauls believing that god lives within us.  But it is beautiful poetry, especially the peacock part.

The very next song started with this phrase – I kid you not –

“If you wish to board an airplane/you must travel light/to be safe from the danger of a crash.”

Perhaps the United Airlines personnel who banned the Emotional Support Peacock from that flight had been listening to the bauls, as should we all.

West Bengal Chronicles, Part Five (and Last): Search for the Church and Other Kolkata Final Adventures

#myculturemystory, culture, memories, travel, West Bengal, , , , ,

The last day of our grand adventure in West Bengal had come, and after some administrative business in the Contact Base offices, we set off by car to the teaming commercial center of the Bara Bazar to find a historic Armenian church.   The driver got us to the approximate location of Armenian Street, after the first set of location negotiations among people on the street.  He let us out to fine-tune the directions on foot.

The next set of location negotiations took us along the busy main drag, lined with merchandise (ranging from cosmetics to underwear to toys to plastic containers of all sizes and shapes) from the sides of cars and the backs of trucks.  The more well established sellers lined the narrow streets which we hurried down in search of Armenian Street, which seemed to be at the center of a maze of alleyways.  The variety of colors, sounds, smells and the level of activity was exhilarating, but we did not pause for purchasing since we were on a mission.

We nearly missed the doors leading into the churchyard, which was wedged between shops and announced by a small plaque.  Inside the double wooden doors stood the large church and burial ground.  We were not allowed to take photos, so check out these to see what we were rewarded with by sticking to our quest.

Having whet our appetite for sacred building searches, we set out to find a synagog that was reputed to be nearby.  This took yet another set of location negotiations, leading to a staircase off the main street that seemed highly unlikely to lead to any sort of holy edifice.  But, having faith, we climbed up and found not one but two synagogs, the second even more large and impressive than the first.  There are apparently not enough Jews in Kolkata to maintain the synagogues, and the larger of the two has just been beautifully restored to be used as a venue for concerts and other public events.

After a quick tour of the synagogues, we set out for our final touring destination, the sacred river of the Ganges.  It being Valentines Day, the park we walked through to get to the Princep Ghat (flight of stairs leading to the river) was full of young lovers, and we even witnessed a proposal.  The breeze was fresh, the vista of the wide river and imposing bridge was majestic, but alas, we only had a few short minutes to gaze and contemplate.

All too soon, we dashed for the car and headed back to our guest house to pack for our return home.  We took a quick side excursion to one of Kolkata’s most tantalizing sweet shops, so that we could bring home actual sweets as well as sweet memories from our two weeks in West Bengal.