Category Archives: Smithsonian Folklife Festival

The Festive Garden

Smithsonian Folklife Festival, tomatoes; garden,

Plants and gardens take a lot of knowledge and skill to thrive, and are an important part of traditional folklife. At this year’s Smithsonian Folklife Festival, which just wrapped on July 9, both programs had gardens and a host of participating gardeners to interpret them.

What happens to those gardens once the Festival closes and the staff enters the grueling days of taking apart this enormous outdoor undertaking, you may ask? Well, having done my part during one of those days earlier this week to dismantle the gardens (and having done it many, many years in the past as well, this having been my 37th Festival!), I am here to tell you that we do our best to find good homes for all the plants.

Sometimes that is in my back, side or front yard, I have to admit. For instance, last year I snagged a fig tree from the United Arab Emirates program. It was about five feet tall, and a little worse for the wear, but once established in our front garden it was looking pretty hopeful. When spring came, however, only its bare branches remained, sad and dead looking, and we almost pulled it out. But, low and behold, it was sprouting new life from the ground up!

There are other success stories of the perennial kind lurking in our garden as well. I planted some sort of silver leaved thing requested by a flower wreath maker from the 1999 New Hampshire program, and it threatened to take over one of my flower beds. It still pops up every year here and there, as does my share of the hops we obtained for the participants from Kent, England for the 2007 Roots of Virginia Culture program.

Last year, we worked with the Earth Sangha wild plant nursery to put together a native pollinator garden for our Earth Optimism program. We had three 4’x4′ planters with a variety of natives, a number of which are in my yard now and doing amazingly well. We also got Black Eyed Susan seeds donated from a seed nursery in Pennsylvania. I threw bunches of these seeds into a sort of dead zone behind one of our raised beds, and they grew rapaciously. They are now attracting goldfinches, who perch on the flower heads and pick at the seeds.

In short, leftover Festival plants are the proverbial “gift that keeps on giving.” As is the Festival in general.

The large planter and water feature around the Ozarks program “Teaching Garden” was particularly impressive at this year’s Festival. One of the most attractive gardens we ever had! Yay, team!
I introduced Mia Jones from Springfield, Missouri, who grows microgreens, for her presentation in the Ozarks Teaching Garden one day. That’s a project for this winter now that I’ve learned the right way to do it.
In addition to the awesome planting around the Teaching Garden structure, there was a whole big planter of herbs, veggies, and foraging plants. I fear there were not many takers for most of the foraging plants, which were things most gardeners would normally be pulling out of their garden or yard like dandelions and burdocks… but they are all edible so maybe you should reconsider that action?
Who knew you could make a marigold infused simple syrup for summery drinks? Note, some of the portulaca and peppers from the kitchen planters seen here will be finding new homes in our garden (as well as a quantity of marigolds which were all over the site, so I can hopefully try this recipe at home).
As if we really need more plants in our backyard?! This is a glimpse between two of our raised beds which host the 70+ tomatoes. Hey, we like plants and especially ones that produce tomatoes!

Curatorial Cogitations

Smithsonian Folklife Festival,

[Dedicated to my co-curators, Arlene Reiniger, Erin Chapman and Molly Dodge. Who share the kudos and the blames…]

Finally emerging from the all consuming preparation, execution, and aftermath that is the Smithsonian Folklife Festival is like surfacing after a long time underwater. It’s time to take a long deep breath, assess the successes and the damages, pack away some of the physical accoutrements and the emotional baggage that comes with working with a huge team of very talented but sometimes testy personalities, and – most important – get some sleep uninterrupted with nightmares of what is yet to be done, missing, forgotten, or just fallen between the cracks.

Having worked on the event for the last 36 years, in one capacity or the other, you’d have thought I’d seen it all. But the Festival has changed, evolved, morphed, and reformed over that span of time, in some ways for the better and in some ways making one long for earlier days. It’s only natural, though the more recent Festival staff often dislike us oldsters talking about those “good old days” when things were done differently (also for better or worse).

I have curated or co-curated at least 11 Festival programs (I might have forgotten one or two, maybe on purpose?). Curating a Festival program is often exhilarating, but just as often exhausting. Being responsible for so many moving parts (tents, signs, concept messages, schedules, gardens, whatnot) and people (participants, presenters, interns, volunteers, direction or at least information to other staff members) is a weighty job. Yes, curators get the praise if things go well, but just as often get the blame – for just about everything.

Sign text late? Curator’s fault. Participants not totally chosen yet (and there’s too many of them?) – definitely curator’s fault. Over budget? check. Supply and/or Tech list not complete? check. And the list goes on, and on.

The other thing that is mostly unseen is the physical labor Festival curators and their staff of (mostly of interns and volunteers) are expected to shoulder, and do so (mostly though not always) without complaining. Putting up and moving around tables and chairs. Toting bags of soil and mulch for gardens. Carrying supplies around. Arranging and rearranging stuff in storage containers. Cleaning up the site after the Festival when we are most tired, both physically and mentally.

Why would anyone want this job, you ask? Not for the glory, that is for sure. For me, it’s two reasons. One, to showcase and honor the skills, talents, work and traditions of the amazing Festival participants – who work so hard to prepare, travel so far, and spend so much time explaining/demonstrating/performing. Two, to be a part of something so life-changing for so many people.

Yes life-changing — that is the way so many participants, temporary staff, interns and volunteers describe their time at the event. Over and over, throughout the years. It is truly special, and worth the bangs and bruises (physical and of our egos) to be a part of this thing. It gets in your blood after a while and you can’t not be there helping, even if you aren’t “in charge” – with all the kudos and blame that comes with that role.

Here’s some behind the scenes pix to give the idea of the spirit and feel of the event and of our Earth Optimism x Folklife program, for those who are in the know and those who just come to enjoy; or have never been. With all the troubles that came this year after having been away from doing it in person for a few years, it was still worth it. (Though I am still catching up with sleep and still taking a daily dose of Aleve to ease the aches.) Long may it rein, and produce more “good old days” for the youngsters still settling into their roles, or the “one-timers” who will hopefully remember their Festival time as one of the hardest and most rewarding things they ever accomplished.

Our demo gardens were not perfect but they did the job. Thanks to Earth Sangha in Franconia for growing our native pollinators and helping this rookie gardener through the planning. And SI Gardens who grew the veg/herbs. And Tech for increasing the height of the planters that were too short. And to everyone who helped dump and arrange mulch around the pots to make it look like an actual garden. So many people to thank always!
IKEA donated a bunch of furniture – some assembly required, mostly by our interns under the tutelage of the staff members they sent. Interns quickly learn the Smithsonian phrase, especially applicable to the Festival: “other duties as assigned.”
Though it did not arrive until the third day of the Festival, due to overwork of our Tech team, the Worm Theater worm composting area had immediate customers under the guidance of intern Rosie Cohen, AKA Worm Girl.
I am always amazed by our participants and the sheer volume of questions they patiently answer in the course of a Festival day. Anna Lucio, one of our American Ginseng Conservation participants, brought her teenaged daughter Beverly who will no doubt recall her experience for years to come. I sat here while they took a break, for about an hour, and got a lot of good visitor questions about our favorite forest botanical (read more about it at www.folklife.si.edu/american-ginseng
Our lead volunteer for the Come Out and Play area, and my good friend and colleague, Kim, will never look at bacon in the same light again after having to figure out what the intention of the idea of including”stretchy bacon” as a prop had to do with Earth Optimism…? (The other props included giant inflatable globes which made a lot more sense.)
“Mannequin wrestling” is one of the most challenging aspects of any Festival – as we always manage to have the need for one or more to display costumes, and they never behave, resulting in random arms, legs, torsos and heads riding in the back of golf carts or being tripped over in storage areas.
So much time and effort is put into signage, which often unfortunately gets scrapped at the end of the event. This was my post-Festival line-up to share in the hopes that SI Gardens wanted these for something… they were nicely featured in these garden signs and so maybe that was enough for the ten days they lived on the Mall… ?
Last but not least, during the post-Festival take down, Arlene finally fulfills her desire to get her hands on a power tool and display her Macho Woman skills. Honed over even more years than I have worked on the Festival. Are we “too old to do this anymore”? Tune in to find out in the future after we recover from this year…

Life On (the) Line: Missing the Mall

Smithsonian Folklife Festival, Uncategorized,

My Google photo feed sends me down memory lane with “revisit this day x years ago” and it is painful. The photos this week were all of past Smithsonian Folklife Festivals, where I would have been this year.. except that didn’t work out, right?

For over thirty years, until last year, I’ve been on the National Mall on July 4. It was just another work day, albeit one usually with even more people than usual especially toward the end of the day. And a staff barbecue and fireworks at the end.

This year we went digital, Beyond the Mall, on Facebook Live and YouTube, schedule here. (if you missed the live programs you can watch the recorded versions.) Our team worked on the June 24, July 2 and July 5 programs. It was a lot of work, but nothing compared to the intense planning and execution of doing the Festival on the Mall.

Several members of the Festival staff commented that they didn’t miss the triple H weather (hazy, hot and humid) and the pop-up thunderstorms. But that was all part of the package that came with in-person camaraderie with staff, volunteers, interns, participants, visitors. Hugs and handshakes and sharing good food and laughs.

Will we be back on the Mall next year? We really hope so. And if we are, we will complain about the heat and humidity just as much as always. But if we can gather together and do what we do best, it will be worth it.

Here are some of my photos from past Festivals. Visit us online and keep wishing and hoping for a better next year!

In 2018, we had our Bengali visitors in DC during the Festival. Here they shared our July 4 staff barbecue with a couple of our interns.
2017 “Circus Science” tent with our clown educator friends from the Sarasota, Florida Circus Academy.
2016 Basque program kid’s area, the Txiki Txoko. How many times did we grouse about being swamped by summer day camps in their matching t-shirts? Bring ’em on!

On the Rocks at Trough Creek State Park

#Pennsylvania State Parks, #PennsylvaniaStateParks, #TroughCreekStatePark, rocks, Smithsonian Folklife Festival, travel, ,

If you like rocks, you’ll love Pennsylvania.  I swear half of the state is made up of rocks, especially judging from the back (and front, and side) yard of our property in Fulton County.  Some of these rocks are more famous and picaresque than the ones in our yard, however.

Case in point, Trough Creek State Park, home of Balanced Rock.  My husband and I hiked up to this geological phenomenon this past weekend, after a false start.  Clue, if you go:  take a RIGHT after Rainbow Falls, not a left.  The trail map is not very helpful, and there is no sign directing you to said Rock.  Since you can’t see the Rock for the trees, so to speak, you just have to go on faith.

Once you find it, after a steep (and rocky) climb, the Rock does not disappoint.  It is a sizable formation that appears to be teetering precariously over the edge of the cliff, although it has been like that for centuries and presumably will be for centuries more.  As impressive as it is, though, the Rock has not made it to the ten most famous balancing rocks in the world, I am sad to report. Nor does it have a cool legend behind it like this rock in Finland.

We took photos of the rock and then retreated to hike along the Ledge Trail, which connects eventually, after much rock hopping and dodging, to the Rhododendron Trail (lots more rocks, but also huge rhododendrons that must be amazing during the spring bloom) and back over the wobbly suspension bridge near where we entered.  This bridge put me in mind of the Q’eswachaka suspension bridge, a model of which Peruvian participants built at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival in 2016 (though that was a lot cooler).

Even if I make it to Peru and that bridge some day, I don’t think I would muster the courage to walk across it.  So, this Pennsylvania suspension bridge, maybe built by the Civilian Conservation Corps, was the next best thing.  If you fell off this one, you would only tumble into the (rocky) creek below and get scraped up, instead of plunging to certain death in an Andean river gorge.

And, so, to coin a phrase, Trough Creek State Park (and most of the rest of Pennsylvania) Really Rocks.

 

 

Counting on My Interns

culture, Smithsonian Folklife Festival,

The intense ten days of the Smithsonian Folklife Festival are over, and our Txiki-Txoko Kids’ Corner is just a memory now.  20160629_120345The tent might even be gone by now, and the only remains will soon be a very large circle of dead grass and a few crayon and colored paper bits ground into the hard-baked soil.  But my 2016 summer interns and I will remember the moments of joy, frustration, laughter, disappointment, and exhaustion that made it an area where we hope kids had fun and learned something about cultural traditions.

Our favorite times might have been the visits of the Basque and California participants who demonstrated their skills, danced, composed, sang, and taught the kids in a way only those with a deep knowledge of a culture can.  But, we also did our share of teaching and passing on what we had learned about Basque culture.


20160710_165541 (1)One of these activities was Basque Number Bingo, which I generated from an online template that allows you to turn just about any string of related words or images into a bingo game for kids.
(Don’t you just love the internet?  It was called Bingo Baker in case you want to try it!)  All the interns had to learn to count to sixteen (there were four rows of four on the bingo cards) in order to be on the ready to conduct Basque Number Bingo with random kids if/when the occasion arose.  (Usually this meant that some participant who was scheduled to come to us had cancelled for some reason and we had a big hole in our schedule and we had a bunch of kids to amuse with activities of our own devising.)  The numbers were ingrained into our memories and probably will be forever – bat, bi, hiru, lau, bost, sei, zazpi, zortzi, bederatzi, hamar…

Thus the metaphor of the title – I felt as though I could always count on my interns throughout the whole event.  Anne and Sara to keep the schedule updated and to help decide what to fill in with if we had a sudden hole.  Leah to conduct “salt experiments.”  Tyler at the ready to keep track of the myriad day camps in the colored t-shirts and pinafores.  Lila to politely ask parents to fill out the family survey.  Hannah to draw us a new interactive mural for the back wall.  Aliyah to keep the interactive triptych stocked with post-its and markers.  Our repeat volunteer/adopted intern Sam to do everything asked of her.  And a hundred other things they did from rearranging the chairs and tables for new activities to teaching whale origami, to soothing some little kid who banged a knee while playing “Duck, Duck Lamia” or “San Fermin Day sponge tag.”

20160710_222809

I have had many great groups of interns over the years – you know who you are, and thanks to those of you who came to visit during this year’s Festival – but each year’s bunch are special.  I may have been working on the Festival for an amazing 30 years (gulp!) but this will probably be the only year they participate before they go on to other exciting endeavors, and they will hopefully always remember it as a hectic, sweaty, but rewarding experience like no other.  Thanks for the memories, gals!