Art Where You Don't Expect It

If I go to an art opening, I expect a show complete with paintings or sculpture, wine, cheese and crackers and other finger foods. I expect the prices to be steep and the people to be dressed up - at least relatively so - while they stand around and schmooze. Some people will know a lot about art while others will just pretend to know a lot. Sometimes I find lovely, inspiring art at an opening or gallery, but often, admittedly, I walk away unimpressed.

One of the things that delights me is stumbling across a piece of art in an unexpected place. This happened to me in Border's once. I used their restroom and as I was washing my hands I noticed a lovely print of a teacup and saucer hanging next to the sink. I stared at it for a while. It was so nicely done - such a small, ordinary object - but the artist had found a way to capture its elegant beauty. From thereon, every time I went to Border's, I went out of my way to use the bathroom so I could look at that picture.

Quite a number of years ago, I bought Jeff Smith's cookbook, The Frugal Gourmet Cooks American. Yes, I know he was accused of inappropriate sexual conduct and is now dead. Still, his book had some great recipes that I've used over and over again. The thing that impressed me most, however, was Christopher Cart's accompanying pencil drawings. They were snapshots of an earlier America and included pictures of barns, rolling fields, the seaside, a rowboat and a stone hearth, to name a few. They were well done and made that cookbook a visual delight for me. Every time I open The Frugal Gourmet Cooks American, I take a few minutes to once again pore over the drawings. It's a small treasure tucked away in my kitchen pantry.

As a librarian, I read a lot of picture books. I was constantly delighted by the vast richness and quality of the illustrations. Most people would never think of looking to picture books for inspiring art; nevertheless it is there. Take, for instance, Chris Van Allsburg's riveting illustrations or those of Marla Frazee, Barbara McClintock, Diane Goode, Tony DeTerlizzi , David Biedrzycki and so many others that I can't possibly list them all here. Some of the best artists in the world are the illustrators of children's books.

Likewise, some of the best music in the world isn't found in a concert hall but on a city street corner or in the subway. While in Paris, I paused to listen to an amazing cellist playing Bach in the Metro. She seemed oblivious to the rush of people around her and played her soulful instrument with heart and concentration. She was impressive.

Some of the best art in the world is free or for only a small fee. Next time when you're out, just keep your eyes and ears open.

Ten Reasons to Love France

Few people know this, but I majored in French as well as English. At first, French was only a minor but by and by I fell in love with the literature, as well as the language - Baudelaire, Beauvoir, Hugo and Balzac. How could I stop after only 24 credits? So I took more classes until I'd earned a major. In recent years, I've also fallen in love with the French artists -- Monet, Bourgereau, Corot and Degas, to name a few.

I've dreamed of visiting France for most of my life, but always there was a problem. At first it was money. I worked my way through college and never had any where near the funds necessary to afford a trip abroad. Before long, I got married and had children. Then I went back to school to earn a Master's degree in library science and landed a teaching job. For years I was completely immersed in working and raising a family. Still, in my dreams there was far-off France, the land of great literature, fine artists and magnificent wines, a land steeped in history and the fabled Loire Valley. It all seemed like a kind of Shangri-la.

Earlier this year, Dennis said, "Let's go to France?" Really? France? Yes, really. So this September we at last flew to the country of my dreams for 16 days. It was the vacation of a lifetime. We saw the Louvre, Mt. Saint-Michel, the Eiffel Tower, art, history, azure blue waters, countrysides dotted with chateaus from the fairy tales of my childhood. The streets of France are narrow, winding and lined with medieval, half-timbered homes, sidewalk cafes and Gothic cathedrals featuring gargoyles, flying buttresses and glorious stained glass windows.

On our way home - a seven and a half hour flight - Dennis and I discussed our ten favorite things about France. Here are mine, in no particular order ('cause I can never decide what's the best).

1. The Loire Valley for its wonderful wines and fairy tales chateaus.

2. The bread. Crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, what's not to love about French bread?

3. The Cluny Museum of Medieval Art. This riveting museum, located in Paris, doesn't get anywhere near the press as the Louvre (also awesome), but for Dennis and I it was truly one of the highlights of our vacation. It's housed above the ruin of an old Roman bathhouse in the Hotel de Cluny, one of only two remaining medieval homes in Paris, and features rooms full of tapestries, sculptures, jewelry, paintings and other stunning medieval treasures.

3. The Cathedral of Notre Dame of Bayeux. Every bit as impressive of Notre Dame of Paris, this magnificent cathedral made an even greater impression on us because of the sunshine pouring through its lovely stained glass windows.
With its soaring gothic arches, gargoyles and flying buttresses, it is truly awesome!

4. The castle of Fougeres. As I walked through the ruins of this castle dating back to the Dark Ages, I was transported back in time. We climbed a winding staircase to a tower room with walls 2 feet thick, crossed over the moat, stared down into the bowels of gloomy dungeon and walked the crenelated walls. Formidable!

5. Omaha Beach. It's one of the widest and most serene looking beaches I've ever seen. So beautiful now, it's hard to believe that over 2,00 American troops died here.

5. Mont Saint-Michel. It's France's second most popular tourist destination and I can see why. It rises out of the sea like a vision and is surrounded by some of the greatest tides in the world. Got my workout by climbing the steps for nearly half the day.

6. The people. I'd always heard that the French disliked Americans and were terribly rude. Quite the contrary. I think they often found Americans to be rude. We found them helpful, kind and accommodating. When I became separated from my husband on the Paris Metro, a woman named Valerie went out of her way to literally help me get "back on the right track". I was jet lagged and frightened. Thank you Valerie, wherever you are! A rule to remember: say "Bonjour" when you enter a shop or approach a news stand. It's common courtesy in France.

7. The Patisseries. I couldn't eat most of their creations, but I could sample a taste now and then and feast my eyes on their jewel-like beauty. Truly, their goods were works of art featuring colorful, delectable cakes and tarts. The French pastry chefs, like the butchers, the waiters, the teachers and everybody else, are specialists who take great care and pride in their work.

8. Bayeux. A lovely, smallish big town featuring the Bayeux tapestry, lovely shops and one of the most beautiful cathedrals I've ever seen. And we never got lost there!

9. The bed and breakfast inns. We expected big inconsistencies and while each was different, they were all equally charming and welcoming. I loved their hospitality, their home cooked breakfasts, their friendly chitchat and help with the language. Our favorite - Moulin de Rabion - featured a big, comfy bed, a room bathed in moonlight and the best tea and grounds. I'd go back there in a heartbeat.

10. The American cemetery and D-Day museum in Normandy. The crosses are perfectly aligned and the grounds immaculately kept. Although Omaha and Utah beaches look serene, we realized that thousands of brave American soldiers lost their lives there. It was undeniably the most moving part of our vacation. As a footnote, we noticed as many French paying their respects as Americans. I found that very touching.

Also loved Monet's Garden and home in Giverny, the Louvre and the French Metro which is cheap, clean and efficient. And merci, Serge!

Mean Irene and the Trees

As I write this, our power is out (as we fully expected it would be), and the second post hurricane high tide is creeping in. The winds are still gusting a little and the last time I checked – around suppertime – the bay was a restless mass of gloomy waves crested with white caps.

Our big maple tree that I was so frightened of losing survived in fine shape with only a few downed twigs. She’s a tough old gal. Others were not so lucky. One family, a block away from us with a lovely Victorian home, lost two enormous Linden trees that I’d long admired.

I know it sounds silly, but I mourn the loss of these historic specimens. We all mourn the senseless loss of lives during a storm, but nobody mentions the loss of so many of our trees, except as obstacles in the way of getting back their power. This past winter, an enormous copper beech came down on somebody’s roof during a nor’easter. It was over 200 hundred years old. Think how much history it had lived through – the invention of the telephone, the horseless carriage, the Civil War, two world wars, several presidential assassinations and the hurricane of 1938, which had probably been a category 4 or 5. Much more, of course. It was a majestic old tree with a massive trunk reminiscent of the torso of a Greek god or a figure drawing by Michelangelo. Nobody plants these big, regal ones anymore. Like toy dogs adorned with bows, small, decorative trees that defy natural selection have become increasingly popular. A spreading shade tree, however, is a breathtaking thing of beauty that provides shelter for birds, squirrels, porcupines, foxes and other creatures. Trees lend a neighborhood character and cooling shade, not to mention a place for a tire swing, a tree house or simply a place to sit and dream.


After Irene, I so hope that the people effected will consider planting new trees to replace the old ones – graceful, spreading trees that seem to reach up and touch the sky.

Why We Still Need Books

This is a portion of an older post I wrote when I was still working as a school librarian. I may not work as one now, but I think a piece of my heart is still there among the stacks and I think what I have to say is still relevant. It kills me to witness what's been happening to school librarians and their budgets. No matter what they say, volunteers are not trained to manage a library nor do they read book reviews or know all the technology involved. Anyhow, the foundation of a good library is still books, especially when it comes to children. If we want to nurture a literate nation, we cannot slash school library budgets or the professionals involved in running them .

I've always maintained that there's a picture book for every person and every occasion and that's one of the reasons why we need good book budgets. I recently bought an old copy of The Blind Men and the Elephant which I read to my first graders. They got it! Maybe Laura Bush should read it to her husband. Mem Fox wrote a great little story called Feathers and Fools which every soldier and general embroiled in a long, ongoing war should be required to read. And I really think every urban planner and developer needs to study Virginia Lee Burton's book, The Little House or Jeanne Baker's wordless book, Window. When I have a painfully shy student, I often pull out Rosemary Well's book, Shy Charles. And Patricia Polacco's Thank You, Mr. Falkner or Lauren Mill's story, The Rag Coat, are two wonderful books that gently show children the emotional impact of bullying. Living in a diverse society in this day and age, children enter school with more baggage than ever and we need books that will address the broad range of their backgrounds, experiences and problems as well books that still make them laugh. Picture books cut to the chase and get their points across more succinctly than just about every other form of writing .

A lot of school administrators are of the opinion that with the internet and databases so readily available, we really don't need as many books as in years past. What they don't know is that we need books more desperately than ever. Like human beings, books have spines. They have stories to tell. When we open them, they speak to us from the depths of the author's heart and soul. One of the hallmarks of a great civilization is a strong storytelling tradition. Stories give us heroes to emulate, problems to consider, lessons to ponder. Books represent lives, both real and imagined. The internet is fun but, like a slide show, the images flit past us rapidly -- so rapidly that we don't really have time to absorb them. A good story slows down time and gives the reader a chance to absorb the meaning, to soak up the poetry of the language. So, I ask, why not more books?

Two For Tuesday

Two things that have been bothering me recently.

1. Lately I've noticed a trend among school administrators to keep new teachers for 3 years and THEN deny them tenure. Shabby, very shabby. The unions seem to be letting it happen, which doesn't say much for them. Years ago one district out here on the Island had a reputation for pulling this stunt. Anybody who was any good avoided them. Being denied tenure is always a blow to an aspiring teacher's self-confidence but there is no excuse to bring down the ax after 3 years. It's a tacky way of keeping salaries down, not to mention that it's also demoralizing. People accuse teachers of being overpaid but I challenge anybody to stand in front of a group of kids and try to educate them while keeping them entertained and engaged.

2. I usually try to keep politics out of this blog because it would be like opening the floodgates. I do want to say this, however. The Republicans can say what they want about the Democrats but when Bill Clinton left office after his tenure, this country was in great shape. We didn't have a national debt or any wars waging overseas, people had jobs and protecting the environment was something almost everybody agreed was important to the survival of this planet. Despite the problem with his zipper, Clinton was an excellent president. It took George W. Bush 2 terms to undo almost everything. Even I didn't think it was possible. What a fine mess they've gotten us into.

And that's all folks. Now I'm off to paint.

The Poetry of Art

I've taken drawing and painting on and off for about 10 years now. And I love it. Like writing, art requires patience, hard work and perseverance to succeed. Many people give up after a class or two but I have stuck with it. Now that I'm attending art classes full time, I'm improving at a much faster rate.

Robert, my art instructor (and an accomplished artist) is always encouraging us to seek out the poetry in our artwork. At first I wasn't sure what he meant. Art doesn't rhyme and offers no room for word play. It took me many years, but about three years ago I finally began to understand what he was saying. Poetry is so much more than rhyme and word play.

Bringing poetry to the visual arts has to do with finding beauty in the ordinary and intensifying it through color, soft edges and harmonious set ups. Like a poem, a painting has rhythm, grace and tries to strike an emotional chord with the viewer. It should help you see something in a fresh way, in a way you'd never considered. In short, it should take your breath away or make you gasp in admiration. Years ago my husband went to the New York World's Fair with his parents. There on exhibit was the Pieta. He said he'd never thought much of sculpture before - then he saw Michelangelo's masterpiece. He said it was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen, that the figures seemed so lifelike and full of grace that he fully expected them to move any second. In short, it was not just a sculpture, it was a work of poetry.

The subject needn't be as lofty or idealized as the Madonna. It can be as humble as a pair of work boots, a city rooftop, a clay pot and some onions, a bowl of plums. Chardin proved this to us over and over again in his art. So did Van Gogh, Cezanne and many other masters. In the hands of a true poet or artist, the humblest things are endowed with beauty and elegance, grace and rhythm.

Friday Five

It's been too long since I last posted anything. Poor old neglected blog. Anyhow,in an attempt to get back to blogging, here's my Friday Five.

1. I dusted off my paint box and palette and have waded back into oil painting. There's something seductive about color and after doing nothing but drawing for the past year or two, I miss it. Of course it helps if you can draw, too. In fact, if you want a great painting, you must be able to draw otherwise the whole thing is a failure. When I get some pictures of some recent work, I'll post them.

2. I attended the New Jersey SCBWI conference a few weeks ago where I met up with some fellow members of The Poets' Garage. I'd met Gail once before but never Diana or Laura. All of them are talented poets and writers. Laura recently landed a top notch agent and we're all wildly jealous of her. It was a well-organized, wonderful conference and I plan to go next year too. In the photo is, seated l to r., Laura Sassi, Gayle Krause, and standing l to r, me and Diana Murray.


3. Dennis finished revamping our kitchen cabinets. Gone are those orangey oak cabinets that I never liked. Instead we now have beautiful white maple cabinets. They are stunning! Next we have to order a new counter top and put in a new back splash. When everything is finished, I'll post a picture.

4. My sister finally found a job (with a little help) working in a hospital. Her husband of 20 years had left her and then she lost her job and was living on unemployment. Her unemployment benefits were about to run out and soon she'd be without health insurance, too. She was in panic mode, imagining herself living in her car, cold and hungry. The job came through for her just in the nick of time for her - and it includes a wonderful benefits package. Yay!

5. We went to New Orleans for a week - a place we'd never visited before. What a colorful city! I loved the French style architecture, the wonderful spicy cuisine and great jazz but, oh, the heat! I could never live in a city where the average summer temperature is in the 90s, not to mention the fact that it would be nearly impossible to run or ride a bike. Great place to visit, though.