If I joined Spotify and shared my country compilation there would sure to be some missing links. I only version of Tammy Wynette’s amazing “Don’t Touch Me” that I have is the one on the soundtrack to “Five Easy Pieces.” Yes, “Stand By Your Man” and “D I V O R C E” are on there but it is this song that kills me. Billy Sherrill produced it work and like so many George Jones hits it still sounds great.
This is one of the best soundtrack albums we have. And it is not available as a download. I thought, “surly it is a collectable lp” so searched it on Amazon. $3.99, the same price we payed when we bought the lp in 1971. With long bits of dialog and all of Bobby’s monologue when he visits his dying father, the album is as moving as the movie. The dark, dreamy Chopin, Bach and Mozart pieces mixed with Tammmy Wynette, Karen Black and Jack Nicholson is pure genius.
Robert Indiana Love sculpture in midtown Manhattan
“I’m reading this book. Oh, I can’t remember who it’s by and I can’t remember the name of it but if I tell you what it’s about maybe you’ll recognize it.” We were seated next to a table of four-two well dressed couples, who were maybe in their seventies, in Rooney’s where we often go to celebrate Peggi’s birthday and their conversation was almost impossible to block out.
Rooney’s is an expensive place so this sort of thing goes with the territory. Think Luis Buñuel’s “Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie.” When we first sat down they were talking about how much money this mutual friend had. They were saying that she would need three and half million for some sort of move and the woman told them, “Well, I don’t have anywhere near that amount.” They acted surprised and then one of them said, “OK, let’s talk about something else.”
We heard how one of the couples was stuck in an elevator in NYC and the hotel gave them a free dinner and how they enjoyed running the tab up over a thousand dollars with cavier and rare wine. And then the two women started their own conversation about going on EBay to find out how much their artwork was worth so that when they died their kids wouldn’t just throw it in a dumpster.
They started running down local restaurants, the good and bad. One of the guys was in the restaurant business at some point and he said back then 40% of the business was in cash and now it all is credit cards and harder to hide. “I still use cash at restaurants, like when the bill comes to twenty dollars, I’ll leave a three dollar tip in cash.” Peggi quickly calculated that that would be mere 15% and we laughed.
On their way out we heard them lamenting the fact that the restaurant doesn’t offer valet parking any more.
Madame Cezanne painting at Metropolitan Museum of Art
“El Greco in New York” is a pretty sensational name for the show that ended today at 5:30 at the the Metropolitan Museum of Art considering the city did not even exist in his time. And the show is just as sensational but not the showstopper that the “Madame Cezanne” show at the same institution is.
Twenty four of the twenty nine known paintings that Cezanne did of his wife have been rounded up for this show. Every painter that matters cites Cezanne as the man and this is what they’re talking about. The “father of modern art” depicted form in two dimensions better than anyone and he did it primarily with color but followed it up with radical form depiction in his drawing. He is also the godfather of cubism.
He pulls out all the stops with this “Madame Cezanne in Red” (above). The bottom of her dress is being thrown at you. She is very present but only part of this huge environment. We are drawn in on the left side and come out on the right along with that curtain. Madame Cezanne’s face, which can be pretty even as she pouts in the other paintings is sacrificed here and close to distorted in a masterful show of form.
Can downtown Rochester ever get its mojo back? Just about every old warehouse, school, factory or department store has been converted to lofts for young urbanites or old empty-nesters but the streets don’t have as much life as this 1932 photo.
Thomas Grasso, president of the Canal Society of New York State, wrote a dreamy guest editorial for the Democrat & Chronicle over the weekend that proposed re-watering the portion of the Erie Canal that used to cross the Genesee River on the Broad Street aqueduct in the middle of downtown Rochester. The idea has been gathering steam for some time now and is really not any more unlikely than filling in half the Inner Loop seemed only a few years ago. It is a far better proposal than Frederick L. Olmstead’s arcade and certainly better than the bone-headed idea of putting city government subsidized shops in the former dank underground homeless refuge.
So let’s make this one happen. A simple diversion of a portion of the canal’s current path would carry water downtown and across the river. This has four season potential as a big draw, a man made marvel created almost 200 years ago, a giant magnet.
And while we’re dreaming, I read Eugene Robinson’s editorial on MLK’s call for economic justice in 1968. “One America is flowing with the milk of prosperity and the honey of equality,” King said. “That America is the habitat of millions of people who have food and material necessities for their bodies, culture and education for their minds, freedom and human dignity for their spirits. . . . But as we assemble here tonight, I’m sure that each of us is painfully aware of the fact that there is another America, and that other America has a daily ugliness about it that transforms the buoyancy of hope into the fatigue of despair.” The speech, made just before he was shot, was brilliant but what was more striking than the excerpts was the realization that we have no politician or civic leader today that can talk like that.
Having just come back from a walk to the lake I am happy to report that I am in the Christmas spirit. Perfect timing. The water level on Lake Eastman had just dropped about a foot. You could see the high water mark on the trees that are still standing in water along the shore. We’re guessing the high winds and rough water on Lake Ontario finally budged the plugged outlets. The beavers have taken down some pretty big trees and the trees have surely worked their way down Lake Eastman toward the big lake where there is a log jam. Nature has an impressive way of taking care of business.
The wind has apparently taken our Time Warner connection out so we are without internet, cable tv or a phone line. Glad I’m not a kid looking for a connection for my new Xbox on Christmas Day.
We had a lovely dinner last night with parts of my big family. We changed the menu at the last minute and ordered greens & beans and lasagna from Proietti’s in Webster, a giant tin of the stuff with extra jars of sauce and cheese to pour on top as we warmed it up. I made a green salad modeled after the ones we used to have with Peggi’s mom out at the Bistro in the Highlands, grapes split in half with a slightly sweet vinegrette and then garnished with toasted pecans. Peggi made applesauce and we had her Christmas cookies for desert. The conversation flowed like wine and I slept like a baby.
Duane usually joins us for Xmas Eve dinner but he is already back in New York and Maureen is trying to figure out the accurate color, painting lights that Duane gave her.
Ice skirt on stump in Lake Eastman, Rochester, New York
While President Obama is on vacation I’ve been thinking about this whole “proportional response’ concept. It strikes me as rather small minded, as barbaric as the bible’s “eye for an eye,” but with a little time maybe the US can come up with a creative way of conveying how uncool the hacking and threats are. Was David and Goliath proportional?
A witty response, an idea so clever that it begins to turn the tables on the dictator would be proportional. Instead of airdropping dvd copies of the sophomoric movie on North Koreans maybe they could figure out a way to solicit Hollywood movie concepts from the North Koreans. Could the CIA be any more creative than the “creative” types at Sony?
In Louise‘s comment to my last post she pointed out that there are two sides to the sign I had shown so as I passed by today I stopped for another photo. Peggi had to explain this one to me. It is way beyond Catholicism.
A few weeks back we visited a couple of nearby funeral homes to get estimates on direct burial costs. My dad wanted to prepay for himself and my mom so the money, according to state law, would go into an M&T account to cover costs at the time their deaths. Peggi and I are thinking we should be doing this as well. Costs are not locked in, of course, so we probably have a few years if we’re lucky.
My dad made a decision on the home and called back the contact at Newcomer on Empire Boulevard to ask if he could draw up a bill and send it out. The contact said it should be done in person so he set up an appointment for this morning at 9:30. My dad had his check book and a different fellow, a big burly guy in in a suit, met us at the door. I said I had an appointment with the contact. The big guy told us he would take care of us and abruptly asked, “Names?” I wasn’t even sure it was a question but I spoke our names without using any verbs or prepositions, just the two pronouns. He took us downstairs past the showrooms with the ornate caskets and golden bibles and into a conference room with a poster of two hands clasped in prayer. A large monitor hung over the table with Microsoft Windows 7’s blue start-up screen. I pulled out my iPad and read the notes aloud from our first meeting with the contact.
The big guy asked what kind of casket we wanted and I said there is no casket, it is a “direct burial with the body in a shroud.” He said they must use some special machinery to lower the body.” My dad was squirming and raising his eyebrows. The next few exchanges were more awkward and ruder still. My dad said, I think we’ll take our business elsewhere and we got up. I turned back to the guy at the glass door as we were leaving and said, “You have a funny attitude.” He said, “Have a nice day, sir” and he looked the door behind us.
I have worked for myself most of my life and I’ve run into all sorts but I can’t think of any situation where the the deal was done, the specifics were settled on, the check was all but written for two customers and two more potential customers were in the office and the guy blows up the deal.
I’m so happy that Roz Chast’s brilliant memoir, “Can’t We Talk About Something More Pleasant?” was chosen as one of the New York Times 10 best books of the year. It addressed the absurdity of issues like these with mountains of grace and humor.
“Prepare To Meet Thy God” sign on Culver Road in Rochester, New York
The local American football team, “the Bills,” are on a winning streak but I can’t bring myself to watch them for some reason. My neighbor says he is “afraid to watch them” so he records the game and looks at the highlights if they win. Last weekend we watched the final Major League Soccer game of the year, a game between Los Angeles and New England. It was Donovan’s last game of his career and they won but it was a sort of sad game. We caught a Premier League game this weekend between West Ham United and Sunderland and the difference in the level of play was quite remarkable. I can see why the US’s national team coach is encouraging our player to play overseas.
We recently became aware of the Spanish activist group, “FLO6x8.” Sort of a Flamenco Flash Mob they combine incredible music, passion, performance and a deep culture while trying to affect change. Watch them disrupt the Spanish Parliament.
Pre show at Garth Fagan Dance at Nazareth Theater in Rochester, New York
Dance troops really have their work cut out for them. I’m generalizing but they attempt to animate music. Garth Fagan has especially good taste and of course “good taste” is relative. It usually means “the same as mine.” Last night at Nazareth College we saw pieces choreographed to the music of Dollar Brand, Max Roach, Bob Marley as performed by Monty Alexander, Aphex Twin, Ingoba Drums of Burundi and Jan Garbarek with The Hilliard Ensemble. The dance has to be pretty damn good to take center stage to that soundtrack. About half of the pieces out-shined the music. And that is a pretty sensational feat.
Small tree cluster on Eastman Lake in Rochester, New York
The water level on Eastman Lake was way up, so high that the little foot bridge at the south end of the trail was floating. Along the shore we spotted the stumps of a few trees that beavers had just taken down. You can see some bite marks at the bottom of these small trees above. We assumed the fallen trees had floated to the out flow of this manmade lake and had jammed it up so we tried to find the overflow drain. We walked entirely around the lake and never found the outlet. It’s somewhere down along Lakeshore Boulevard.
I was thinking about how civilized the designers of the park were, creating these beautiful manmade lakes over a hundred years ago. And then the line from “Hearts and Minds,” a 1974 documentary about the Viet Nam war, popped into my head. I think it was a clergyman, maybe a priest, in Viet Nam talking about the invasion while it was going on. Something like, The US treats us like savages. We’ve developed our civilization over 5,000 years. They’re the ones who are the savages.
Seabreeze docks at dusk in December, Rochester, New York
The yearly RoCo Members Show is always a good one. With one piece from each member it is democratic to a fault. There is not enough room to hang the work properly. Some pieces are too high or too low and many just don’t work with the nearby pieces. So you have to take your time and look at each piece as though you were wearing blinders. There are some real jewels.
We spotted work by fellow classmates and of course were partial to those. Bill Keyser, John May, Maureen Church and Leo Dodd. I put my yellow dot next to Peggi Fournier’s owl. The opening was packed, as expected, and the conversation sensational. My head will be swimming tonight.
Greenhouse Cafe on East Main Street near Winton Road in Rochester, New York
“Time keeps on slippin’ into the future.” It is amazing to me how long it takes for lyrics to hit me. I get the melody, the rhythm and the sound way before I hear what a singer is saying. I have no idea what most songs are about but they can get under my skin in a second.
At Friday’s mini Record Store Day I picked up a copy of the abbreviated “Basement Tapes Raw,” a two cd set of unvarnished treasures from the trove of demos recorded in my favorite Dylan period. Here we have perhaps the greatest lyricist of all time knocking out songs with a real band, rhythmic and rootsy and raw. Garth Hudson’s organ seals the deal. The Canadian band crystallized Americana in 1967 and lyric and sound carried equal musical weight.
This weekend we caught the second set of The High Fallin’, a group made up entirely of WXXI employees, at the Greenhouse Café on East Main. With viola, keyboards, Matthew Leonard’s guitar and an excellent choice of material, the Band’s “The Weight.”
The Question Bridge show at Rochester Contemporary is very good, not so much as an art show but as a real dialog on important stuff that just doesn’t get talked about. The dvd presentation of black men asking and answering questions about race is very thought provoking. They stay on topic and it gets real and deep. It would be more artful if it didn’t feel like a side show in the dark with seats. Couldn’t they figure out a way to project those talking heads on the white walls of the gallery instead of that scrim?
Tonight’s related presentation with dance company director Garth Fagan, artist and teacher Luvon Sheppard and Carvin Eison, the director of RCTV, was intended to work the local connection to this topic but they mostly avoided the direct talk about race. It was interesting to here them talk about being creative, that is always an interesting conversation, but their talk was not as insightful as the presentation.
The highlight of the night for me was when Garth Fagan said the the difference between painting and directing dancers is a painting doesn’t talk back. Luvon told the Lion King choreographer he was wrong. His paintings do talk back.
Heather Erwin was closing up shop by the time we got over to the Hungerford Building. Brittany Williams, who shared the “Hair Don’t Lie” show with Heather, was on the way out the door but we did get to chat with Heather and talk about her painting of Brittany.
Voting day provides an opportunity to to walk through the woods into Matthew and Louise’s neighborhood and then across Sea Breeze Way and down Point Pleasant Street to the firehouse where where fill in the little circles. Someday we’re going to rent the funky little bar that is on the other side of the room divider in the hall We’ll have a party, maybe get Margaret Explosion to play and then spin some soul, blues and country records.
Hard to believe the size of the paper ballot in New York. And filling in little circles like we did in grade school on tests. At least we don’t have to show picture IDs yet. Instead of a massive amount of voter fraud we have a massive amount voter indifference. After all the mudslinging I imagine the typical voter feels like this little dog.
I like this 1951 winter scene. The 1951 painting was for sale at an estate sale on Sagamore Drive. We managed to look but not buy a thing. Rocco was there from Small World Books. He had scooped up a pile of books of course but when we ran into him in the garage, he was paying $20 for a really short, heavy old wooden rowboat.
Overnight Warren Phillips has one of the best gallery spaces in Rochester. He moved from his longtime frame shop on East Avenue over to the first floor, corner spot at Main and Goodman in the Hungerford Building and Pete Monacelli has the first show in the long front room. The white walls, lights and a beautiful old wood floor there make Pete’s “Searching For Home’ abstracts absolutely sing. Warren keeps regular hours too so you have plenty of time to stop in.
Peggi and I were camping out in our neighbor’s backyard when a storm came up quickly and forced us to take refuge in the back corner of their garage. We were huddled together on the concrete floor, wrapped in sleeping bags when I woke up. The neighbors, Mike and Carna, were standing over us. It was kind of cozy and all I could think was, “I’ve had this dream before and I want to go back there.” But it was beautiful out. Again.
Days with gorgeous weather are bad for making art. At least that is my experience. Beautiful days are made for wandering around town with no agenda or taking a walk in a new direction. My father emailed me us reminder of a sale Rochester Art Supply was having today. They had a tent set up in an empty lot near their store on West Main and they had some incredible deals on paper and packages of raw canvas. Richard Harvey was there and Liz Durand, artists loading up on supplies. When the weather does turn we’ll get down to business.
Glass hearse behind motorcycle in front of Williams Fureral Home in Rochester, New York
I had a 9PM appointment to talk to Stephen Black in SPOKEN gallery.sg, an online mix of art, creative writing and virtual reality. I was given instructions to download this Unity gaming app but when I launched it I was told it could not be verified. I may just have to visit Singapore to hook up with Steve.
I’m thinking this may be the last weekend this year for the swimming pool on our street. There is so much color creeping into the greenery it makes want to try landscape painting.
We stopped into Hart’s, downtown’s newest grocery store, for the first time. They seemed a bit overstaffed or maybe there just wasn’t enough shoppers there. We were there at noon so we bought a yogurt and listened to the Mambo Kings who were playing in the parking lot. My grandfather, uncle and cousin (all three of them named Ray Tierney) were grocery store people. I shopped and worked in their stores when I was growing up and it seemed like a tough business with tiny margins. Hart’s seems like a dream. I hope it works out.
We left Hart’s to do our monthly shop over at the Abundance CoOp where as one hundred dollar shareholders we get 10 percent off once a month. They are planning to move to a bigger and better location on South Ave. and I wish them the best as well.
Moses receiving the Law (top) and reading the Law to the Israelites
My father recently commented on how we never read the bible in Catholic school or in church for that matter. We had our Missal and there was plenty of scripture in the Mass but the Catechism was our bible and the Pope had the final word. Protestants are always going around quoting the bible, the literal word of god, and us former Catholics (if that is indeed possible) are left in the dust.
I was reading an online article about ISIS and one of the comments referred to Deuteronomy 13:6–10 to justify some damn thing. I had to look it up.
“If your brother, the son of your mother, or your son or your daughter or the wife you embrace or your friend who is as your own soul entices you secretly, saying, ‘Let us go and serve other gods,’ which neither you nor your fathers have known, some of the gods of the peoples who are around you, whether near you or far off from you, from the one end of the earth to the other, you shall not yield to him or listen to him, nor shall your eye pity him, nor shall you spare him, nor shall you conceal him. But you shall kill him. Your hand shall be first against him to put him to death, and afterward the hand of all the people. You shall stone him to death with stones, because he sought to draw you away from the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.”
Museum Hours director, Jem Cohen at George Eastman House in Rochester, New York
I’m so happy Louise invited us to “Museum Hours” last night at the Dryden. We met for a drink beforehand at Carrol’s and Mathew wore his “Dean & Britta shirt. There was some sort of retirement party so we sat outside. The mosquittos chased us out just before showtime.
I was the first to raise my hand when they opened the floor to questions from the director, Jem Cohen. I was bugged by the moderator’s lengthy discussion of of the relationship between the museum guard and the visiting Canadian. I didn’t think that was what the movie was about and I was hoping to hear the director bring the discussion around to art, appreciation of it and an understanding of where the urge to create comes from. I ran circles around that thought and confused myself more than him. He takes his time and gives very careful answers, the exact opposite of my process.
I loved how he dove into the paintings in Vienna’s Kunsthistorisch and cut to his hauntingly beautiful scenes of the dreary, winter city. Back to the the museum, the Rembrandts and especially the Bruegals and then to the museum guard studying the patrons the way we studied the paintings. That connection to Bruegal’s process picturing museum goers as subjects for paintings crosses centuries of art making urges. I thought it was quite powerful and beautifully expressed. A fine tribute to fine art.
Plastic tricycles and graffiti, Rochester, New York
Forbes Magazine ranked Rochester second on its list of “opportunity cities, places where it is possible to have a business impact, build a successful career and make a comfortable living in a relatively short amount of time.” Delmonize Smith, commissioner of neighborhood and business development for the City of Rochester, is quoted as saying “The creative class that’s here that typically has to make this choice between expanding on their passion or their creativity or paying their bills–they’re able to find a decent place to live, pay $400-$450 a month and focus on their passion.” This is exactly why we’re here.
But as lucky as we are to have such a healthy cultural scene the housing would not be so affordable if the city proper did not have real economic problems. Half of its children live in poverty for starters.
Meanwhile Attorney General Eric Holder announced the arrest of a Rochester convenience store owner as the first American to be charged with recruiting fighters for ISIS and plotting to kill returning servicemen.
