I [heart] New York: The Rest of the Trip

As it turns out I was  too busy showing Rachel The City (capitalization intentional) that by the time we made it back to our room I was too exhausted to actually write about it.

Her original flight in to La Guardia was cancelled, so while I waited for her I went ahead and hit up MoMA -- the Museum of Modern Art -- since Rachel tends to prefer more classical art. She didn't miss much. Last time I did MoMA there were works I didn't get and works that really captivated me. This time nothing really captivated me (and the galleries seemed particularly overrun with tourists) -- that is until I made it back to the Industrial Design section which is where I lingered for the longest period of time and had the greatest appreciation for: Commercial art that is eye catching and selling a product (PanAm destination posters)... Fonts and typefaces (Finally getting the attention they deserve)...every day products where function follows form.

After leaving MoMA I had just enough time to get back to the room get off my feet for a few minutes and confirm the route to La Guardia. Arriving several hours later than expected when Rachel landed she found her way to the Q33 bus to Jackson Heights where I met her after arriving on a Queens-bound (funny, since we were in Queens) 7 Train.

Taking her back we found a Manhattan bound E Train and rode in comfort back to the 42nd Street/Port Authority Bus Terminal stop and the quick walk back to the hotel. One of many reasons why the Hilton Times Square is my favorite hotel in The City (and perhaps period) is that it, as near as I can tell, sits on top of  the largest subway complex in NYC... and if you can't get where you want to get from Times Square/42nd/PABT directly, a short subway Shuttle (S Train) ride to Grand Central will get you there.

Dropping her bags off on the 43rd floor -- room 4320 -- we descended back into the subway station, caught the Shuttle (despite it now being almost 8pm, still packed) and at Grand Central found a downtown 1 Train to meet a friend of hers (and her boyfriend) for dinner. We found a barbecue joint on 3rd Avenue somewhere in the 30s that had good food -- and even better margaritas. (Not having to worry about driving, I indulged in two). We had ice cream in the friend's apartment and by the time we returned to street level a light rain had started. We found an uptown train and retired to the double-Queen room for the evening.

Getting a lazy start on Friday morning, we worked our way downtown to the Meat Packing district using the Shuttle and a C Train to 14th street -- before we got to our actual destination we discovered Tom Otterness's Life Underground, an art installation as part of the MTA's Arts For Transit program and quite an extensive installation at that. Mr. Otterness's little creatures are always so cute and that was particularly true in this case. Once we left the station a quick (although blustery) walk got us to our actual destination: The New York High Line, a former elevated freight rail road structure adapted, converted, and reused now as a public park. Its quite an impressive project, and I would have liked to linger a bit longer had there not been a biting cold wind pushing us around.

Working our way uptown we found our way to the southeast corner of Central Park (though I'm not sure which combination of trains we took to get there) wandered through the lower section of the park eyeing the people and wildlife (and downing a hot dog) before arriving at Rachel's prime destination: The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Now I will admit that last time I visited The Met I wasn't overly impressed, but walking the galleries with Rachel it was delightful to see her eyes bug out as she excitedly bounded from artwork to artwork like a kid in a candy store "I've seen that one in books!" "We studied that in my classes!". We grabbed lunch in the Cafeteria lingered around the Europeans for a bit and then hit my highlight of the visit: The Met's renown Musical Instrument Collection displaying an evolution of musical instruments from the odd to the common... and a couple Stradivari violins.

Leaving the Met we walked further up 5th Avenue and toured the Guggenheim which currently has a rather odd installation hanging from the ceiling. We didn't spend long but I did buy a new watch.

Walking towards Lexington Avenue, I misjudged the direction for the nearest Subway so instead of walking two blocks downtown to the nearest 4/5/6 station we walked eight blocks uptown and caught a 4 Train back to Grand Central, shuttled to Times Square and kicked off our shoes for a few minutes before departing to another destination Rachel wanted to check out: The Morgan Library and Museum, founded by Pierpont Morgan. Open late Fridays with live music we stayed and lingered until the guards kicked us out at the 9 PM Closing.

Returning to Times Square we had dinner at Schnippers Quality Kitchen on the corner of 41st and 8th Avenue. I had tripped over this place while I was in NYC for the Tony Awards (and staying at a different hotel) but it's literally right down the street from the hotel's back door. The Mac and Cheese with Bacon hit the spot. Returning to the 43rd floor... high above the city...we both quickly disappeared into slumber.

Waking up Saturday morning we realized our time was limited, and although we had been staying in the middle of Times Square, Rachel had never actually seen Times Square so I walked her through the highlights and we popped into the Hershey Store. Curiosity satisfied, we hopped on a train downtown, emerged from the surface at a random stop and among other sights window shopped Chinatown. From City Hall Park we uptown trained to NYU where Rachel poped into one of the Manhattan branches of an employer to look around, and realizing that we were starting to run short on time, we returned to the hotel for the last time, collected our belongings, and checked out.

Entering the Port Authority Bus Terminal subway station, I made a near fatal error -- already cutting the time close (by my standards) -- In a snap judgement thought that the A, C, or E trains would get where we wanted to go. Until we got on an A train, and I looked at a map. And Paniced. Only the E train ultimately ended up where we wanted to go, we popped off at the next station, and I misread signs... so we missed the first E train, and waited.

It felt like an eternity before the next E train showed up (all the while the station announcements blared "There is a...uptown...local...train approaching the...upper level...platform. Please stand clear of the platform edge, especially when trains are entering or leaving the station." on a seemingly constant basis. Rachel, sensing my fermenting panic had started to ask "Well, how much would a cab cost...?", but finally the "There is a Queens Bound...Express...E...Train approaching the...lower level...platform" announcement finally came. Getting back to Jackson Heights/Rosevelt, we left the station and immediately hopped on a waiting Q33 bus. Found seats, and made what felt like the interminable ride to the Central terminal. I checked in and checked my bags with Continental, then Rachel checked in for her much later flight with American... and with about 30 minutes left until I was set to board and since our gates were behind different security checkpoints, we grabbed a quick lunch in the terminal before bidding each other a temporary adieu.

Both of our flights home were uneventful.

Lincoln

Back from St. Ignace and Mackianc Island, Michigan

I've been wanting to make it up to my Grandparent's place in St. Ignace, and to get some Michigan driving on my car*. I also wanted to show my girlfriend Upper Michigan. This was the first weekend where (a) Rachel didn't have to work for the full weekend, and (b) my grandparents -- popular as ever -- had an open weekend. Finally (c) of this summer's Cleveland Orchestra/Blossom Festival program, this weekend seemed to be the least compelling (I wasn't terribly impressed by last season's performance and Joffery Ballet's labor issues earlier in the season had cast some doubt as well)

I picked Rachel up after she finished work early Friday Afternoon, and we stopped by her apartment to grab her bag, then my place to pick up the razor I forgot to throw in my bag the first time I left the house. With that we were on the road just after 3:45, and had an uneventful drive "Up North," crossing the Mackinac Bridge right about 11, and arriving at our St. Ignace destination just after 11:15. We were surprised to find one of my uncles and two cousins wrapping up a much longer vacation.

Introductions out of the way and quickly falling asleep, the first day of the trip was down. I think everyone sleeps a bit longer "up north" and we were certainly no exception, getting a leisurely start to Saturday morning. Being Rachel's first trip to Northern Michigan, we played tourists on Mackinac Island for most of the day Saturday: Starting with a light lunch at Fred's on the island, then a carriage tour for a general overview, and from there a bit of wandering.

The island's art museum is a relatively new addition to the tourist scene on the island, and was my first time visiting: All of the art on display (some of it for sale) depicts the island in some way giving the collection an appreciably narrow focus, and there were interesting surprises: The artist behind one of the more eye-catching works studied with the artist who created one of Rachel's favorite paintings Rest

While we decided to forgo the Fort on this visit, we found that the Art Museum ticket also grants access to the Market Street buildings we visited while working our way to the Grand Hotel -- my first time in those, I think, since my fist visit to the Island nearly 15 years ago. Popping into establishments along the way, we did our bit to support the local economy. Legs wearing thin, we hit the ferry back to the mainland and walked up the hill to my grandparents.

After a bit of socializing -- and a rather addictive game -- we adjourned to St. Ignace's boardwalk to enjoy the evening fireworks, before once again returning and retiring to another good "Up North" sleep.

This morning we woke up, once again, late in the morning and socialized a bit. I had originally thought about taking Rachel up to the Soo (Sault Ste. Marie) or Taquemenon (I'm virtually positive I've misspelled that) Falls... but I didn't consider the travel distances for either of those and after brief discussion both of those were saved for a later trip. Instead, we walked the St. Ignace Boardwalk to the end of downtown (and then a bit further), walked back window shopping and stopping for a late brunch (me) and lunch (her) before returning to say goodbyes and hitting the road south in between rain showers.

The drive back went a bit slower than the drive up because it seems like we hit a few chunks of blockage or clumps of slow moving cars that seemed to last forever. We plan to return sooner rather than later, and my grandparents' hospitality is second to none.

Some of the photos taken by Rachel can be found on my Flickr Photostream at http://www.flickr.com/photos/24046431@N07/sets/72157627489482560

Lincoln
*- Michiganders tend to drive like Californians: Fast, and with an average speed 10-15 MPH above the (70 MPH) posted speed limit. They're also typically more courteous than California drivers. Ohio drivers, on the other hand, generally give great deference to to the unreasonably low speed limits...and also linger in the left lane long after any passing has been completed. In other words, driving is just more fun in Michigan.

Cleveland Museum of Art: Bulletin of the Museum 1947-50

[This is the fourth installment in a series; Part 1 covers 1915-20, Part 2, from 1920-29, and Part 3 from 1930-47]

I've been swamped at work, preparing for two trips to California, one that's already been rescheduled, and a trip to Michigan for work, plus a different trip for pleasure, so what better way than to relax by slipping 64 years into the Museum's history.

World War II has ended; and in 1947, depending on where you set the marker, the Cold War has either begun or is in its nascent stages. In Cleveland, Burke Lakefront Airport opened for operations; the Case School of Applied Sciences changed its name to the Case Institute of Technology (CIT would join with cross-street rival Western Reserve University 20 years later in 1967 to form Case Western Reserve University). "Untouchable" Eliot Ness was tht year's unsuccessful Republican mayoral candidate.

Television station WEWS, goes on the air on December 17, 1947 and is the first commercial television station in Ohio (16th in the country), it's call letters stand for Cleveland Press founder Edward Willis Scripps* -- perhaps best known as being one half of the Scripps-Howard media empire. WEWS is, to this day, Scripps-Howard's broadcast flagship... but enough background:

October 1947. Thirty Fourth year. Number Eight. On Friday, October 3rd, Lincoln Kirstein, president and director of The School of American Ballet will present a lecture on the Language of Classical Dance. In passing, he's credited as the "Founder of Ballet Society". In 1948, that organization will be renamed New York City Ballet. Oh, and by the way: He was a driving force behind the creation of Lincoln Center in New York -- though not the namesake.

December 1947. Thirty Fourth Year. Number Ten. Membership is rebounding from it's Depression- and World War-induced lows and now stands at 3,838 -- still below the 1920s peaks.

September 1948. Thirty Fifth Year. Number Seven Part One. The bulletin includes a centerfold. Not that kind of centerfold -- Franz Hals's Portrait of a Lady in a Ruff. More interesting, however is the announcement of Masterpieces from the Berlin Museums:

Cleveland is fortunate in being one of the centers of the country in which the
paintings from the Berlin Museums will be shown. They will be exhibited here
from October 6th through October 22nd. In the Spring of 1945, as the United
States armies advanced in Germany, they found a huge cache of art objects in a
salt mine at Mertkers, among which was an outstanding group of paintings, the
finest from the collection of the Kaiser-Fredrich-Museum and numerous examples
from the National-Galerie of Berlin. Shortly thereafter the group was brought to
this country for safekeeping and stored in the vaults of the National Gallery,
Washington DC until such time as it could be returned safely. Such arrangements
have now been made, and of the two hundred examples, half have already recrossed the Atlantic.

It is further noted that a special admission charge of $0.25 will be levied for the exhibition--to be used for the German Children's Relief Fund.

October 1948. Thirty Fifth Year. Number Eight. This month's centerfold, Coronation of the Virgin attributed to Pedro Nicolau-de-Albentosa. The museum's schedule of upcoming events is, understandably, weighted heavily to the Masterpieces from the Berlin Museums exhibition.

April 1949. Thirty Sixth Year. Number Four. The Jane Taft Ingalls Membership Endowment Fund of $1,100.00 (no zeros are unaccounted for) was established by Mrs. Albert S. Ingalls. The Ingalls name is well-associated with the museum via the Ingalls Library, but it does not appear that that association has been fully-forged in 1949. Walter Blodgett, the museum's first Curator of Musical Arts gives an extensive series of organ recitals -- He'll give well over 1,000 of them during his 31-year tenure at the museum. Membership is now reported as 3,962.

June 1949. Thirty Sixth Year. Number 6. Part 1. The museum is maturing as an independent organization, and another tie to its founders fades as John Huntington Hord, grandson of one founder passes.

October 1949. Thirty Sixth Year. Number 8. Those ties further slip as Mrs. Ralph King passes. "Elected a Benefactor by reason of her many gifts to the Museum, she actively carried on the deep interest which she and her husband, the late Ralph King, had shown from the earliest inception of the Museum. The Print Department is a monument to their generosity and to the concern for its development which they aroused in others." Rodin's The Thinker, outside the museum's South Entrance and purchased by the Kings for the Museum in 1917 is among 840 items the Kings donated to the Museum's collection.

December 1949. Thirty Sixth Year. Number Ten. Salmon P. Halle, co-founder of Cleveland's Halle Brothers department store, and like the Kings before him, and active supporter of the Museum's Print Department, passes. As an interesting tangent, actress Halle Berry's name was, reportedly, from her mother's fondness for the Halle's store. William G. Mather, today perhaps best known as the namesake for the Steamship William G Mather, permanently anchored near the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland is elected as Honorary President and Trustee Emeritus. President Harold T. Clark reports that "Mr. Mather asked to be relieved of the burdens of office, but the Trustees, in deferring regretfully to his request, wished to pay him this signal honor. He has served as President from February 14, 1936, as a Trustee from the twenty-fourth of November, 1919 and as a member of the Accessions Committee from July 13, 1915. In that last capacity, the Museum has had the advantage of his wisdom and taste since the year after its incorporation. Few people have had the influence which he has had in the development of the Museum's collections. As Honorary President, the Museum will be able to call oh him, as before, for advice and counsel.


Lincoln
*- For my California readers, this is the same Scripps who's name is scattered about the San Diego area: He retired there in 1890 and died in 1926.

Cleveland Museum of Art: Bulletin of the Museum 1930-47

With another warm week under our collective belts and a tiring week in the office, I figured I'd unwind by returning to the stack of Cleveland Museum of Art Bulletins occupying a corner of my living room.

If you missed the last post, covering 1920 to 29 you might want to peak in, or if you have no idea what I'm rambling about you might be interested in the first installment.

Today's post covers two decades -- and a tumultuous period in American history: The end of the Great Depression and the beginning and end of World War II. Some scholars -- and at least one high school economics teacher -- link the two events, and logically it makes sense, but that's neither here nor there. The collection of discarded Bulletins was, sadly, rather light on the '30s, hence this post's two-decade span.

February 1934. Twenty First Year. Number 2, Part One. Prohibition ended with the repeal of the Eighteenth Amendment by the Twenty-first Amendment by a majority of states just two months prior to this issue -- incidentally Ohio was one of the three states that pushed the amendment to ratification on December 5, 1933. At the museum, a schedule of events shows Saturday "Radio Talks" on WHK at 5:45 PM. WHK, Ohio's oldest radio station, and the 15th oldest in the country still broadcasting, can be found today at AM 1420, though in the early 30s as a CBS affiliate you would have tuned to 1390 KHz.

The schedule of events also includes frequent Organ Music programs and discussions in the auditorium.

John Long Severance is the President of the Board (the hall that bears his name and still serves as the home of the Cleveland Orchestra opened three years prior); and William Mathewson Milliken had also begun his Directorship of the museum at the beginning of the decade -- both will leave lasting imprints on the museum, and as I learned this afternoon, Mr. Milliken also headed the Public Works of Art Project for Region 9 of the Federal Works Progress Administration (WPA).

The Museum's Education staff totals nine. The library staff of seven includes a Miss Thwing -- and I have to wonder about her relationship to the Thwing Center that now stands just a few hundred feet from the Cleveland Museum of Art. Admission is still just $0.25.

December 1935. Twenty Second Year. Number Ten. The Autumn flower show this year paired flowers in paintings and was describes as "one of the most beautiful exhibits ever held in the museum" and included five paintings by Georgia O'Keeffe--this being barely 20 years after her work first gained widespread acclaim. Among those thanked for their participation, Mr. and Mrs. Frank H. Ginn -- Mr. Ginn, like Mr. Severance, had a close association with the Cleveland Orchestra, this time memorialized in the elegant Ginn Suite at Severance Hall.

The Bulletin offers five upcoming concerts in the "Cleveland Concert Course," sponsored by but not taking place at the Museum. For information, call CHerry 5805 (Today that number would be 241-5805*, but Google doesn't turn up any current results). Radio programs are listed for WTAM and WGAR including the Art Museum Drama. (WTAM is still around, and the WGAR call letters survive in Cleveland as WGAR-FM, but WGAR-AM is now WNKR). Total membership stands at 3,554 -- rather shocking as in October 1929 membership was reported as 6,365, and in 1922 the Board had hoped for membership of 10,000 by the end of the year.

March 1943. Thirtieth Year. Number Three. As if the membership numbers from 1935 weren't disappointing enough, the reported number is now just 3,113. For the first time since the building opened, hours and admission prices have changed: 9AM to 5PM except: Closed Mondays, Wednesdays until 10PM, Sundays 1PM to 6PM, and Friday Evenings 7PM to 10PM during Lecture Season. The Museum is closed July 4, Thanksgiving, and December 25. (Today the Museum is still closed Mondays, otherwise open daily 10AM to 5PM except until 9PM Wednesdays and Fridays). Then as now, admission is free at all times.

June, September, November, 1943; and March 1947 (Thirtieth Year, Number Six, Seven, Nine and Thirty-Fourth Year, Number Three, respectively) don't offer anything particularly noteworthy, with a relatively stable Museum organization and in-depth analyses on particular artworks. In September, Membership is reported as 3,008.

June 1947. Thirty-Fourth Year. Number Six. Part One. Miss Neil G. Sill, librarian of the Museum since February 1, 1920, retired as of April 15, 1947. The event is reported in the Bulletin "Miss Sill several years ago asked to be relieved of her responsibilities, but was generously willing to remain until after the war crisis. She submitted her resignation on December 1, 1946 to take effect at such time as the Trustees should decide, but no later than the spring." -- I find it hard to imagine, in the 21st Century someone staying in a job "several years" longer than they would otherwise desire.

President Milliken writes that "The strain of carrying the Library through the war years has made it seem imperative that, for a time at least, she have a period of rest and relief from responsibility. Miss Sill, during the years she has been in charge of the Library has built it up so that it is one of the outstanding special libraries in the country. Her ability in building up important representation in the various sections of the Library under her control and her wisdom in the selection and purchase of books have been outstanding contributions to the Museum's growth".

And I wonder if there are any modern markers of Ms. Sill's impact on the Museum's Ingalls Library during her 27-year reign early in the dawn of the museum?

And since I've wandered through these few issues for far longer than I originally set out to do, I suppose I shall save the rest of the last three years of the decade for the next post.

Lincoln

*- For completely tangential trivia, the 216-241 Exchange is one of several dozen served from the Ohio Bell Building on Huron Avenue, is a great example of Modern American Perpendicular Gothic Architecture and is frequently cited as the inspiration for the Daily Planet Building in Superman.

Cleveland Museum of Art: Bulletin of the Museum 1920-1929

Continuing leafing through the series of Bulletins of The Cleveland Museum of Art from where we left off after Our Last Visit's 1915-April 1920 Tour, we find ourselves at:

July 1920. Seventh Year. Number Seven. Ninety-one years ago, Frederic Allen Whittling, the Museum's first Director, writes that "[...]The public is expecting the art museum to become not only home to the Muses, but the interpreter of beauty in all its forms. This widening vista of what an art museum may mean in its community, has already brought about amazing changes in the conception of the proper functions of the museums of art. They are becoming more than places where objects of beauty are preserved. They are becoming places of beauty and inspiration themselves."

I pause here to interject that these words could be called almost prophetic for the renovation in general new Atrium currently under construction at the Museum specifically, but continuing: "For today we are realizing more than ever before that the most beautiful life is that which is lovely in itself and in its personal relations is so much a part of the community that it enhances its surroundings while it gains new beauty therefrom."

Mr. Whittling concludes by noting the importance of "awakening the spirit of modern men, women, and children to a further realization of the part a love of beauty must play in a well balanced life"

To that end a short entry in the journal describes that small portions of the museum's collections are on display in specially designed cases in 20 Cleveland branch libraries, some Cleveland Heights schools, and the hope that this may be broadened to more schools. I wonder if this program is in any way still existent, it sounds like a great way to bring art to the people.

A photo shows a much sparser -- but easily distinguished Armor Court; still one of the museum's top draws. Many credit the interest, then and now, to Cleveland's manufacturing roots.

October 1920. Seventh Year. Number 8. An insert flutters out from between the pages titled "Sunday Entertainments for Young People at the Cleveland Museum of Art," listing a schedule of plays and films in the Auditorium (which has not yet picked up the Gardner) prefix.

Prospective patrons are instructed to "[t]ake the Euclid Car to East Boulevard or the East 105th Car to Payne Avenue and Walk East through Wade Park to the Museum." The University Circle name of the Museum's home came from a street car turnaround located at Euclid and East 107th -- I haven't found when that turnaround disappeared, but it's obvious Cleveland's street car system is still in full swing at this point.

A group of anonymous donors have presented the museum with $250,000 for the establishment of a department of Music and the acquisition of a memorial organ and tablet for the Auditorium. Their names will be revealed when the Organ is installed: The McMyler Memorial Organ was cleaned and revoiced as part of the museum's ongoing renovation.

Prices in the museum's Lunch Room have risen: Lunch is now $0.80, afternoon tea $0.60, and dinner (on lecture nights, with reservation) is $1.50. Shocking, right?

December, 1921. Eighth Year. Number 10. The museum's membership totals 4,684. The Museum's events list includes Beethoven's Kreutzer Sonata for Violin and Piano, Op. 47 in a lecture series on the appreciation of Chamber Music with Beryl Rubenstein. A composer, pianist, teacher, and --eventually--veteran, Mr. Rubenstein joined the faculty of the naescent Cleveland Institute of Music earlier in that year; the institution having been founded only the year prior. In 1932, he would take over the directorship of that institution and serve -- with a breif interuption for enlistment in World War II -- until his death in 1952.

Lunch: $0.75; Tea: $0.40; Dinner $1.25.

January, 1922. Ninth Year. Number 1. There is a plea for patrons with suitable materials to consider donating them to the Library, as the cost building a collection to include the necessary back journals is an expensive undertaking, and some are both difficult and expensive. For comparison, as of June 30th, 2010, the library held 456,105 volumes and in the first six months of 2011 -- 89 years later -- the library has cataloged over 4,200 new items.

Total attendance from the date the Museum building opened, June 7, 1916, to December 7, 1922 was 1,634,150, or approximately 251,000 per year if my math can be trusted. Today, the museum's annual attendance is 335,262 in the galleries plus 406,124 patrons served through education and public programs*

The trustees announce their hope that by the end of 1922 membership will reach 10,000; history will prove this goal optimistic. The organ is still under construction and the director's note explores: "The visitor to the museum usually takes away as much as his experience has prepared him to absorb. The aim is to increase in every possible way the attractiveness of the message the objects have to give."

January, 1926. Thirteenth Year. Number 1. Prices are no longer published for the Lunch Room, and membership tallies 5,023. There is a plea for members as the approved budget exceeds 1925s by nearly $10,000 and this difference is best made up through member's contributions. While Severance Hall may still be a few years in the future, John L. Severance is elected Vice President of the Museum's board.

A picture shows art displayed in a gallery: The in the intervening years the mounts have changed but it otherwise would not shock a time traveller.

June, 1926. Thirteenth Year. Number 6. After slipping in March, Membership is back up to 5,087 -- still well short of the board's optimistic 1922 goal. "informal" organ recitals are available Sundays at 5:15.

December, 1926. Thirteenth Year. Number 10. Turning attention outdoors, The Bulletin announces that Mrs. Windsor T. White has assumed the entire cost of the Euclid Avenue Terrace of what is now known as the Fine Arts Garden, allowing the Garden Club to focus on other areas of the Museum's "park foreground" and "much" of the grading has been finished. Today, even with signs of construction punctuating the view, the Fine Arts Garden, with the Euclid Avenue Terrace and the Lagoon make for a spectacular front yard for the museum.

October, 1929. Sixteenth Year. Number 8. The last in the cache from the roaring '20s, this issue of The Bulletin of the Cleveland Museum of Art was published in the same month as the Stock Market Crash of 1929--the event most identify as triggering the Great Depression. If the Bulletin knows of the impending trouble, though, it keeps the secret well-hidden. In fact this issue is pretty sparse, one take away: Near the close of the decade, membership totals 6,365.

Lincoln

*- Based on the annual report for Fiscal Year ended June 30, 2010; the latest figures I have available.

Cleveland Museum of Art: Bulletin of the Museum 1915-1929

I'm a sucker for ephemeral institutional history: Those reports, policy manuals, and various other internal documents that are written at one time and never intended to survive the ages: It is the disposable that is never disposed. I find it interesting to thumb through these documents (or Page Dn through PDFs) and see what has and hasn't changed. In the paper world, it's interesting to feel the quality of the paper and look at the typesetting in days before computers and "Desktop Publishing" was a glint on the horizon, and to think of who has browsed those pages in the decades past.

My girlfriend, aware of this trait, noticed that a collection of assorted issues of "The Bulletin of The Cleveland Museum of Art" (which was published from 1914 to 1994, to be replaced by the Member's Magazine, which is still published) was to be discarded and swept them up for me. Arriving home tonight, after dutifully slipping in some needed violin practice, I couldn't help but to sort them chronologically, and thumb through a the pages and think about what else was happening in the world, what names are encountered, and how times have changed.

Before I really realized what I had done, I had made it through all of the issues I have through 1929. Without further ado, some of my observations.

November 1915. Second Year. Number Three. The earliest issue in this cache takes us back to 1915. The Cleveland Orchestra won't exist for another three years--Severance Hall is about 15 years away. World War I is raging overseas, but it will be another 17 months before the United States joins the fray. It had been hoped that the Museum's opening and inaugural exhibition could be announced, but construction delays mean that installation work cannot begin before January of 1916. (The Museum will eventually open June 7th, 1916)

Dudley P. Allen bequests $150,000 to be held in trust for the Museum with the interest income to be paid "For 100 years and for as long thereafter as the institution shall effectively and worthily carry out the purposes of its organization". The trust is held by Cleveland Trust Company, through mergers and acquisitions, now known as KeyBank: The trust still exists, and fewer than four years remain of that original 100 year term. It would be difficult to argue that hte museum is not effectively and worthily carrying out its purposes.

Though the Museum's physical presence hasn't opened, Mrs. Emily S. Gibson is actively stirring interest in educational programs through visits to Cleveland libraries, and reports that the Cleveland Public Schools superintendent is eager to incorporate the museum in educational programs after it opens.

The Membership for the not-yet-opened museum totals 530, the names occupy scarcely more space than one full 8-1/2" by 11" sheet and include such names as Howard M. Hanna (M.A. Hanna company a major specialty chemical company), William R. Hopkins (first, and only, Cleveland City Manager, and a major proponent of the airport that now bears his name--Cleveland Hopkins International Airport), F.E. Drury and Charles S. Brooks, both of whom have strong ties to the Cleveland Play House as well, also appear. Rounding out the list of names that jumped off the page, members of the Blossom Family-- 45 years later, give or take, the Blossom Music Center will be named for one if their members.

April 1920. Seventh Year. Number 4. World War I has ended; the depression is yet to come and "An Appeal For New Members" appears in The Bulletin "For the past two years the Museum has made no active campaign for membership, believing the war needs of the country made such an appeal unpatriotic". The appeal goes on to report that previously two trusts had entirely funded the museum's operations, but due to growth of the museum and increased costs, those funds now fall far short.

The museum thanks Mrs. Henry A. Everett for the use of her Steinway piano "during her absence" and Harry J. Wamelink for "frequently" lending a Mason and Hamlin piano.

Membership now totals 1,983; names are not published. The museum is open 9am to 5pm Monday-Friday except until 10pm on Wednesdays and 1pm-10pm on Sundays. Admission is free Sundays, Wednesdays, Saturdays, and all public holidays -- $0.25 otherwise. In the Lunch Room, table d'hote lunch is $0.60, afternoon tea is $0.40, and if you're attending a lecture, make a reservation before 3pm for a $1.00 dinner.

I had originally planned on covering the rest of the 1920s... but this post seems long enough. Perhaps there will be a Part II: Are you interested?

Lincoln

Lincoln in Kansas City (Missouri), Visit 3.

There's a T-shirt out there that proudly proclaims "Missouri Loves Company" -- what does that have to do with this post? Nothing. But it makes me chuckle.

I'm sitting in MCI -- the official airport code for Kansas City's "real" airport, and I think it originally was taken to stand for "Mid-Continent International" -- but all of the marketing materials brand it as "KCI". Sigh. The gentleman sitting to my right -- and one of perhaps 8 people in the 4-gate area Continental operates out of, proclaimed this "The most boring airport in the workd". Perhaps he's right -- a booming pre-recorded voice periodically announces "K-C-I is on the web! Find us on Facebook or follow us on Twitter!" to no one -- the clerk at the snack stand adjacent to gate 67 closed up shop and disappeared. In her absence, there seems to be no food or drink available behind security -- and not much in front of security either.

Perhaps most telling, the discussion I had with the TSA representative while he was checking my boarding pass: "You're kind of early, you know that?" "Better early than late, right?" "Maybe other places, but here being two hours early is going to be two hours of sheer boredom."

Backing up, at the end of the day yesterday I had finished everything I needed to finish for this trip, my third to Kansas City's suburb of Olathe, and three of four trips originally planned. While the fourth trip is still on the books, there is some chatter that it may not need to happen. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I could use the frequent flyer miles and hotel points, but do I really want to up my hotel count -- already at 35 nights since January 1st -- if I don't have to?

Today I slept in. It felt good. The first time in a few weeks where I really didn't have to be anywhere or do anything. After packing and checking out of my hotel, I headed to Kansas City's Union Station... like most every large city in the train era--including Cleveland's Terminal Tower--Union Station is a glorious edifice of the romance of travel: Soaring ceilings, intricate detailing. Today, it still hosts Amtrak service in a quiet corner, as does a restaurant that ties to the memory of when Fred Harvey's chain of railroad eating places (credited with being the first chain restaurant) called Union Station its headquarters. Today it has been restored and is host to a variety of attractions, the one piquing my interest "KC Rail Experience".

The organization is somewhat lacking -- After purchasing my $7.00 ticket, and following the directions I was given I seemed to be a bit lost. I asked a volunteer where it was and her reply was that it was $7.00... "Where?" "You need a ticket, it costs $7.00" "Yes, but where is it?" eventually I figured out it was the door right behind her. As far as railroad museums go it's a bit light on just about everything -- pretty much limited to one example of each major category, and clearly targeted at the 10-and-under demographic, but it was still an interesting look at rail and specifically rail and Kansas City. In their collection and on display but not open is, according to the museum, one of only five observation cars known to be surviving in its original condition.

An accompanying model railroad exhibit is likewise a bit light--small (not even relatively small, as I had originally typed.) layouts with no attendants and trains running in circles, but it still reminded me of my youth at the San Diego Model Railroad Museum in historic Balboa Park... for some reason I've been getting big on nostalgia lately, haven't I?

Back to the present time, after leaving Union Station I noticed a fairly nondescript building across the parking lot with a sign simply proclaiming "National Archives". Curious--and catching a glimpse of a "Free" sign--I walked over.

Along my walk my hand was hit by a dive-bombing bird... walking a little further (between a large parking garage and an even larger United States Postal Service building) I find a USPS employee strategically posting signs proclaiming:

Beware of Mocking Bird (Protected Species)
Bird has been seen "diving and hitting people"

So apparently I'm not the only one. Arriving at the building I was seeking, I'm greeted by another sign -- an impressive looking seal and the no-nonsense "NATIONAL ARCHIVES AND RECORDS ADMINISTRATION" tag line. I hesitate before pulling open the door, though not quite long enough to read the page-long, 10-point "GSA Guidelines for Behavior on Federal Property" posted by the door.

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be there. Archives intrigue me -- there's something about the unfiltered snapshot they provide that intrigues me; beyond that, makes me wonder what happened to the people who wrote and received each document, and so forth. At the KC Rail Experience, the part of my visit where I was the most intrigued was looking at the reproduction timetable pages--the prices, the fine print, the destinations.

But I've had this thought that The National Archives are the bastion of academics and professional researchers, with the general public not being generally welcome.

Pulling the door open and walking in, I tell the very friendly receptionist that I'm playing tourist and I have no idea what I should see -- or if I should even be there. She pointed me in the direction of their welcome center, offering an 11-minute film introducing the National Archives, and their exhibition hall (Currently home to an exhibit comparing Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E. Lee's lives before, during, and after the Civil war, and suggested that I stop by the Research Room where another staffer would be glad to show me around.

The exhibit was interesting, but perhaps most striking to me that Ulysses S. Grant arrived at that name not by birth, but rather a paperwork error at Westpoint. I guess changing the paperwork would have required too much effort! While I didn't make it into the Research Room -- where it looked like a number of people of all ages, shapes, and sized were engaged in research -- I was fascinated by the artifacts decorating the walls: Pictures used as evidence in Federal cases, a film rental contract, letters between a film distributor and the superintendent of an Indian School about film rentals, film advertising posters...

I was fascinated, and almost wished I had a topic within the National Archives at Kansas City's purview (Iowa, Kansas, Minnesota, Missouri, Nebraska, and the Dakotas) -- the staff were all quite welcoming and helpful, and it's now clear the general public is allowed -- I even picked up a decent collection of "how to use the National Archives"-type literature so I can be more prepared the next time I encounter one of these institutions in the wild!

Leaving the National Archives, I made my way back to the Nelson-Atkins Museum for a quick fly-through, and had lunch at the Grand Street Cafe. The burger was so/so (the bun was exceptionally dry and my Blue Cheese request had somehow morphed into Cheddar) but the Cesar salad I had with it was amazing.

I then returned the rental car and...that's where the draft of this post ended, since boarding for my flight home was called. Boarding the flight, though, I noticed a gentleman who looked very familiar. Almost too familiar. Arriving back in Cleveland, I found myself behind this gentleman on an escalator, and now being more positive...and it was indeed the Cleveland Museum of Art's director. We had a brief conversation walking to the airport exit.

And now I'm home. For a week.

Lincoln

Cleveland Museum of Art: Art Crawl

A few weeks ago I received an emailed invitation to the Cleveland Museum of Art's first Art Crawl, an after hours wine, hors d'oeuvres and conversation event open to members at the Fellow level and higher.

I wasn't sure what to expect but my ladyfriend and I eagerly RSVPed, and tonight was the night. At 6:30 pretty intimate gathering of probably fewer than 120 people met in the lower level of the Museum's north wing and were further into even smaller groups of perhaps thirty each for talks with museum staff and then wine and food nearby (but not in the actual galleries for obvious reasons!)

Our group had the following itinerary:

Icon of the Mother of God and Infant Christ (Virgin Eleousa) by Angelos Akotantos with Dean Yoder, Conservator of Paintings. Followed by Boutari Kretinos Red and White wines, Domas Yolandi (Grape leaves stiffed with herbs and rice, tzatziki sauce), Spanikopita: Sauteed spinach, garlic, feta cheese, minted greek yogurt)

Mr. Yoder's discussion brought light to the importance of this icon, how it came to be attributed to the artist (somewhat rare for works of that type from that period). Particularly interesting to me were the challenges of the condition for a painting that's nearly 600 years old and the techniques used to clean, stabilize, and generally conserve the painting -- something I've been interested in since I first became really aware of the art at a Cleveland Museum of Art Member's Appreciation Day two years ago, a Science Cafe event last year. As my ladyfriend's career goal is conservation, I've been slowly learning even more lately.

A View from Moel Cynwich: Looking over the Vale of Afon Mawddach and Toward Cader Idris by William Turner of Oxford. Heather Lemonedes, Curator of Drawings. Followed by Osbourne Amantillado Sherry; Cilantro curry and spinach dip, crispy pita chip; Smoked salmon "tartar", English cucumber cup, creme fraiche.

Ms. Lemonedes discussed her role as curator of drawings while standing in front of a magnificient watercolor. Seem nonsequeter? We learned tonight that the museum considers anything on paper to be a drawing -- including watercolors. Beyond that Ms. Lemonedes discussed the importance of this particular work, and her interest in expanding the museum's holdings of British drawings to compliment the already impressive collections of other nationalities. Particularly interesting was the social nature of art acquisition, and the respect Cleveland has in the art dealer world. Ms. Lemonedes's enthusiasiam bubbled over.

The sherry was a bit too strong in both taste and smell for me, barely surviving two sips, but the cilantro curry and spinach dip on crispy pita was great. My ladyfriend and I both thought it had a hit of something familiar but couldn't quite place it.

The Age of Bronze by Auguste Rodin. William Robinson, Curator of Modern European Art. Latur Ardeche Chardonnay, Latour Valmoissine Pinot Noir; Micro baked bire, apricot compote, baguette; Duck confit, apple chip, sour cherry puree.

Topping the previous curator's impressive enthusiasm, William Robinson was clearly a curator passionate about his work. Though the Age of Bronze was the center of the discussion, it ultimately included the museum's relationship with Rodin while he was living: The casting of the Age of Bronze in Cleveland's discussion was overseen by Rodin personally and the last casting while he was living -- the patina was chosen specifically to be a "crushed grape" look unlike the patina of the same piece in the Met's collection which was overseen by the French government and Rodin felt was all wrong. Interestingly, unlike many other collections, the vast majority of Cleveland's Rodin holdings were cast while the artist was alive; many other museums collections consist posthumous castings.

While I didn't really love any of the wines, the Latour Ardeche Chardonnay was my favoirte from the evening, being farily light and not overly dry. Disappointingly, this stop's food offerings were the ones I was most looking forward to--but they had completely run out by the time my group made it to this stop.

Bringing Forth the Fruits of Righteousness From Darkness by Damien Hirst. Paola Morsiana, Curator of Contemporary Art. Menage a Trois Red and White. Trio of soup sips: cantaloupe, avocado, strawberry rhubarb.

At the peak of enthusiasm, Curator Paola Morsiani jovially declared herself the queen of the contemporary galleries and discussed Damien Hirst's monumental Bringing Forth the Fruits of Righteousness From Darkness -- a triptych made up entirely of butterfly wings arranged to resemble stained glass windows in a Gothic church -- from an angle I hadn't previously considered: The commercial nature of contemporary art, and how Mr. Hirst is aware of the business of art, and the art is a product of that business environment... in other words, he knows how to make money from his art.

Like the other curators, Ms. Morsiana eagerly and happily answered questions following her brief talk, and I took the opportunity to enquire about how a work of that scale -- on loan from an anonymous collector for 5 years, and Ms. Morsiana is not bashful about admitting that she'd be thrilled to have the collector donate the piece -- gets loaned to the museum.

Reception with Director David Franklin and Membership staff.

Following the conclusion of the groups, everyone assembled on the lower level of the East wing for a light reception and even more conversation: Perhaps most interesting all of the curators who had given their time throughout the evening seemed to remain for the reception and were just as eager to continue answering questions.

The longer I live in Cleveland and the more time I spend both in my "home" galleries and of those of museums I encounter in my travels along the way, I'm increasingly appreciative of both the strength of Cleveland's collection (and reputation) along with the pure passion of its staff at all levels.

Lincoln

Lincoln in Chicago: Day 2

So I woke up this morning and took the day very leisurely -- waiting until about 8:30 (Central, 9:30 Body Clock) to become perpendicular to the floor, taking a shower, and packing up and checking out of my room at the Hilton Chicago and storing my luggage for my later departure from the city.

Walking out of the hotel, I ventured across Michigan Avenue and then followed the shore of Lake Michigan to Chicago's "Museum Campus" -- home to the Field Museum of Natrual History, Shedd Aquarium, and Alder Planetarium. Though I considerd throwing caution to the wind and ignoring the faded "no swimming" markings on the sidewalk, I figured damp clothing may crimp my plans for the rest of the day.

A low layer of fog was hovering over a portion of the lake, but the day was otherwise beautiful and I followed the sidewalk to it's end at a sandy beach. Cutting back I passed Alder Planetarium (eh, planets and stars don't really hold my interest) and decided to pass on the Field Museum for this trip (I haven't ever really loved a natural history museum, but the Field has such a reputation I feel that I owe it at least one visit).

I can't say what particularly compelled me to visit the Shedd Aquarium -- though I hate seafood -- there's something beautiful about the fluidity of aquatic life. Unfourtunately it was not a meditative experience, the facility was literally overrun by poorly chaperoned school groups making a horrendous amount of noise. Though the layout was quite sensible, navigating the acquarium without stepping on a 10-year-old proved difficult. Once you made your way through the mob, though the exhibits and variety are beautiful. The varieties of size, color, habitats, and native environments were amazing.

I'm quite partial to penguins, and polar bears, dolphins and sea otters -- and three of the four are well represented (and I'd probably be slighthly disturbed if an aquarium started hosting polar bears) -- one penguin in particular was quite playful swimming right at the edge of the glass, diving, then surfacing. Two sea otters were locked in what appeared to be a spat of sibling rivalry, looking quite like two dogs fighting with each other under water. The "aquatic show" left me wanting, but having grown up with Sea World San Diego and the outdoor shows, seeing dolphins perform indoors wass unique.

I had planned my second attraction of the day to be a visit to the top of the Sears, ahem, pardon me, Willis Tower just because, you know what, I'm playing tourist. So I left the aquarium and headed that direction, arriving in the lobby with about 90 minutes before I figured I needed to be back at the hotel to collect my luggage and head towards O'Hare. The gentleman in the street-level lobby indicated that it would be a 30 minute journey from that point to the top. Upon arriving in the basement to purchase tickets, I found that he had neglected to include the estimated 35 minute wait to purchase tickets in that time. Now math isn't my strong suit, but 35 to buy + 30 up + 30 down leaves -5 minutes to enjoy the (slightly foggy) view from the top. So I passed for this trip.

I walked back to the hotel via an inland route and just enjoyed taking in the sights, though my feet were starting to act up. Along the way and about two blocks away from the hotel I stumbled across a CTA Red Line station. Mental note made. I got back to the hotel, retrieved my luggage, and checked the CTA route map on my phone.

Hilton's official directions for mass transit from O'Hare are to take the CTA Blue Line from O'Hare to Jackson, then walk six tenths of a mile from Jackson to Michigan and to the hotel -- which is the route I took when I arrived in Chicago, and it's not bad, but when you've already done a few miles of walking in dress shoes you start to look for ways to avoid doing it unnecessarily. With an extra hour and a half of time to kill I figured as long as the Red and Blue lines came together at some point I could use a few more minutes off my feet.

And, it turns out the Red and Blue lines share the Jackson station. So I walked from the hotel to the recently-discovered Red Line station hopped on the next train going in the right direction, and I found my next stop being Jackson. A lengthy subterranean tunnel walk later I found myself on a Blue Line platform waiting for an O'Hare Bound train. Settled into a seat with my luggage for the hour-long ride back to Ohare.

The rest of the trip home was uneventful, but the Continental agent at the next gate in O'Hare over was obviously having a bad day based on her snippy public address announcements; I would have hated to actually need help from her.

Generally I like Chicago... it doesn't have quite the energy of Manhattan nor is it a hipster as San Francisco can be, but it has the "real city" feel that I crave... I want to come back, but at least so far it's not a city that I crave a return to, like Manhattan*--in that regard, it's really not different enough from Cleveland.

Lincoln
* - I've often said that there's only one city besides Cleveland I could see myself living in if I could afford it, and that would be Manhattan. If I ever win the lottery a pied-a-terre in the city that never sleeps would be at the top of my list.

Lincoln In Chicago Day 1

For as much traveling as I've done and as relatively close as Chicago is to Cleveland some may find it surprising that I've never been to Chicago before. Sure I've been through Chicago a handful of times, but it's never been the destination.

I think a large part of the reason for that is simply I haven't had a reason -- I've realized that no matter how much I may be interested in visiting a place -- be it London, Boston, or even Cincinnati -- unless I have a compelling, time-sensitive reason to overcome my travel inertia I'm unlikely to spontaneously go. I think, given my disdain for specifically planned vacations having that one thing assures that the trip will not be wasted.

When that reason for traveling happens to be work-related, there's the added advantage of the travel costs being $0. That is the case with this, somewhat abbreviated, visit. A project that I've been intimately involved with has the prospect of being a perfect fit for an incredibly large potential customer who is headquartered in Chicago. Today was our first in person sales visit and demonstration. I think it went well--what was scheduled for an hour turned into two with some very enthusiastic questions. I also think my job title changed--but I'll wait for new business cards before I get too excited.

Ok, so enough about me, me, me. Kinda. The hotel I'm staying at is the beautiful -- and huge Hilton Chicago. Until the fog rolled in this afternoon, I had a beautiful view across Grant Park to Lake Michigan. It seems that the location is good for being touristy -- I could see the Shedd Aquarium, to the south, from my room this morning, The Art Institute of Chicago and Millennium Park are a across the street and a bit north, and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra's Orchestra Hall is practically within spitting distance.

After our meeting adjourned this afternoon, I walked the 1.2 miles back to the hotel through Downtown Chicago -- skipping a visit to the Sears Tower for now because, although on the way, I didn't really want to deal with having my laptop hanging off my shoulder any longer than I had to. Excising the laptop, I made my way back north on Michigan Avenue until I hit Millennium Park and the giant reflective bean -- properly known as Cloud Gate. I had promised my ladyfriend that I would seek it out and take a picture of my reflection on the bean which I did. The Northwestern edge of the park was bustling with activity, but the Eastern and Southern sections of the park were quite quiet and perfect for reflection.

Making my way south I found myself at the Art Institute Chicago. As a Fellow-level member at the Cleveland Museum of Art, which offers reprocicity with IAC, so I avoided the $18 admission fee and got to the galleries. Honestly I found the gallery configuration a bit confusing, disorienting, and overwhelming, For some reason it seems lately I'm only visiting art museums when my feet are already tired -- but... the visit was well worth it. Some particular notes:

Jan Steen's 1666 painting Family Concert seems so eerily familiar that I could swear I've seen it or something just like it before, but I can't say where. That one will probably bother me for a while, since it looks like both Cleveland and Nelson-Atkins have Steen works in their collections, but they aren't close matches. Alex Katz's Vincent and Tony has a textural quality that pulled my eye and instantly reminded me of a work on prominent display in Cleveland's contemporary galleries -- it turns out, for good reason, as it's the same artist's Impala. Neither photo really does the actual art work justice, but seeing them in person there's something that screams "these were done by the same person". On that vein, Carl Andre's Steel-Aluminum Plain is an unmistakable sibling of Steel-Magnesium Plain at Kansas City's Nelson-Atkins Museum, though the guards in Chicago are far less enthusiastic about patrons walking across the art than those in Kansas City, who actively encourage it.

While I'm mentioning ties to other museums, one of the more compelling sculptures at the Walker Art Center's Minneapolis Sculpture Garden is a large square of granite benches, each with a quote engraved upon it, most make me chuckle. In Minneapolis they're well worn -- they've been used, they've stood up to the elements. They're there, and they have context. Entering the Abbott Gallery today, I found one of the benches -- completely out of context (I think a patron would have been violently assaulted had they had the temerity to sit on it -- when a patron looked as if she may be reaching for a camera, the guard on duty nearly tackled her while screaming "Special exhibition! No photography!" -- immediately followed by "Too close! Back up!").

The artist is Jenny Holzer, and this bench is "You should limit the the number of times you act against your nature, like sleeping with people you hate. It's interesting to test your capabilities for a while, but too much will cause damage." -- though the inscription isn't my favorite* the contrast between the same inscription in a weathered bench in nature versus the gleaming, pristine clean granite under careful lighting in an environmentally controlled gallery.

Lastly, as Fernand Leger's The Aviator has always had a special draw to me in the Cleveland Museum of Art's galleries, it was interesting to see a fair number of other examples of his works in the Art Institutes's collection. The same goes for Piet Mondrain who is, to borrow the label copy's description "best known for his non-representational works" to see an actual landscape painting.

With my feet killing me and my time limited, I decided ot head back South on South Michigan avenue towards my hotel. Along the way I stopped in for a visit at the Museum of Contemporary Photography -- candid photography always attracts my eye -- anything that captures an accurate representation of life at that moment (Lee Friedlander is a favorite) or gives hits of the way things were or have evolved, particularly as far as technology and infrastructure are concerned. And the current exhibition, Public Works was right up my alley.

Earlier this afternoon, I had toyed with the idea of sneaking in a performance of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, but on the basis of time and how much screaming my feet were doing, I opted against it on this trip. (Pros: Seats available "behind" the stage which looks like they'd allow one to actually see the conductor's facial expressions; Cons: I couldn't get myself excited about a trumpet-heavy program, and when I heard the CSO at Carnegie Hall in New York, I didn't love the sound... but that could just as easily be the hall's fault) -- maybe next visit.

I still haven't decided on plans for tomorrow yet... Based on how long it took to get from the airport to the hotel, with a 6:05 PM flight it looks like I have to be en route no later than 3:05 PM to allow adequate time for all of the formalities (unless I decide to spring for a cab...), so I don't have a ton of time. I think the aquarium is a strong contender... Or I might just use some more of my CTA unlimited ride pass.

Lincoln
*- I think my favorite of the collection is "Some days you wake up and immediately start to worry. Nothing in particular is wrong, it's just the suspicion that forces are aligning quietly and there will be trouble"

Back from Minnesota

My project in Rochester was officially and sucessfully finished yesterday... a good night's sleep and a slightly lazy morning found me heading North.

Instead of the straight-line route, I diverted myself through Red Wing, Minnesota -- apparently home of the shoes by the same name, and amusingly in Goodhue County (get it, Red Wing, Goodhue?) -- I'm not sure if it was a tongue-in-cheek decision from decades ago or just plain coincidence, but I'll admit to chuckling when I passed Goodhue County Road 3 and made the connection. Passing through downtown Red Wing, I crossed the river into Wisconsin for my second "visit", and followed Great River Road north, passing back in to Minnesota just outside of Saint Paul.

The Walker Art Center, Minneapolis, was my stated destination -- it's one of my favorite museums and with my level of membership at the Cleveland Museum of Art and a reciprocity agreement admission is free which makes it even that much more enticing. I parked in the garage adjacent to the museum. Before entering the museum I wanted to take a few moments to peruse the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden. Which I did. I noticed today there were more people in the garden today than I think I've seen from all of my previous visits combined. Contemplating that I realized that I think this was the nicest day I've spent in Minneapolis.

One corner of the garden hosts a pedestrian bridge (the same bridge where I had one of the strangest conversations I can recall, mixing classical music, relative rankings of orchestras, with an offer of weed and public consumption of alcohol). Enjoying the nice afternoon -- and being a bit hungry -- I figured I'd see what laid on the other side of the bridge. I wound up in a park.

I wandered some more. This is, as I've said before, one of my favorite ways to explore a city... just aimlessly walk about. This walking, however, wasn't completely aimless: I was seeking food. I was just about to admit defeat and return to a place I had glanced near the park when I stumbled across what I now know is Nicollet Mall. I had lunch in a pub with wonderfully attentive service -- there were three waitstaff for the 5 people at two tables in the corner I was seated in -- but completely unremarkable food.

Cleaning my plate, I resumed my walkabout. Instead of turning toward Walker, I pressed further away a bit more. I realize I'm just a block away from Orchestra Hall, home of the Minnesota Orchestra, and by extension just two blocks away from the hotel I stayed at on a previous trip... I had never realized the spatial relationship between these two locations and Walker.

I stumbled upon Target's Headquarters at 1000 Nicollet Mall and did a lap around the building -- the lower windows are covered by artists interpretations of the Target Logo. Deciding it was time to return to Walker, I started heading back. A stone's throw from Orchestra Hall I find in a hoodie playing a well worn violin on a street corner; steps away from her a disheveled gentleman in a top hat sits against the wall.

She stops playing for a moment, I ask her how long she's been playing "A long time" she answers. "Have you seen all the bad stuff on the news?" she asks, not waiting for an answer "We've all got to stick together. I'll play you a happy song." and she launches into an Irish jig, which after a few minutes turns Scottish and then grows some classical influences. Certainly fun to listen to. A small audience has formed and I drop a few bucks in her case -- it's not clear if that's her goal, but others followed. I ask if she minds if I take her picture, she doesn't, I do.

If I had been feeling more creative (and had the foresight to have camera with better control of depth of field with me) it would have been great to capture her free-form playing on a sidewalk -- not necessarily somewhere you expect to encounter a violinist -- a mere thousand feet, give or take, from the formal confines of music known as Orchestra Hall...and you can see the Target logo through the window across the street.

I make my way back to Walker, though via a completely different path. I find a couple automated where passers by can, it seems, rent bicycles. I'd love to see something like that in Cleveland.

My visit to Walker's galleries was largely uneventful -- the collection on display seemed to include a larger number of multimedia pieces than previously, and I have a difficult time connecting to those (not to mention that an impending flight notwithstanding, I don't have the attention span to completely take in a 74-minute film that consists of a blue screen). The more museums I visit, the more I realize how each's collections help me to understand the others and the artists in the collections.

Lincoln

As I Prepare To Leave Kansas City (I find my work in the newspaper)

The sun is setting on my last day in suburban Kansas City, Kansas. The clear blue sky -- something that's been absent from most of this trip -- is hanging on and seemingly afraid to let the night take over.

The project that brought me out here, like the weather, started out rather bleak--Based on scheduling my client hadn't completely finished what they needed to finish when I arrived, which means both that things move a little slower because I wind up doing some troubleshooting ideally would be done before I got there, and there's also a bit of scheduling juggling involved, as in "I really need this done now, that done next, and whaddyamean that part isn't going to arrive until Wednesday? Ok, can we move this hear, that there, and use some spit and electrical tape in the meantime?"

On the other hand, though, by the end of the day yesterday things were looking really good, and the vast majority of work that I had planned on spending 7 full business days on was done by the end of a late day Thursday. I returned to the project site this morning to tie off the few last loose ends and to run my client through what they needed to know before a grand opening event on Tuesday. Then I had the rest of the day to myself.

Yesterday, the Kansas City Star had a photographer and reporter doing a lot of shooting and the gallery is on their website already.

In this shot you can see me and some of the on the fly engineering and troubleshooting that was going on, the two gentlemen I spent most of my week with. My laptop even makes a cameo, sitting on the lectern in the near background.*

In this shot you can see my work -- the touch screen on the left is my programming, though it's not the most exciting mode that they could have put it in, but they did it with out asking me for help, which means that my work was a success.

Anyway... I made my way back to KCMO and the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art and the Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art. Between my left foot being a bit...irritated, I guess would be the best word...and having just been through the museums I didn't linger as long as I might have planned or hoped. At Nelson-Atkins, I revisited the photography and contemporary galleries and spent a bit of time lingering in the American galleries.

Parting from the museum itself, despite a pretty continuous drizzle I basically walked the perimeter of the museum including finding some interesting pieces in the Kansas City sculpture park that I had missed on the previous occasions.

My primary purpose for visiting the Kemper on the other hand was to see if the robot that caught my eye in the museum store could persuade me to buy him. He, for better or worse, had disappeared, to be replaced with some largely uninspiring pottery... as the Kemper doesn't have the largest display galleries and I had just visited, my visit was kept short. On the other hand, though while walking up to the front I saw... could it be? Yes! It is. Tom Otterness's Crying Giant (edition 2/3) sitting to the left of the museum's main entrance.

I love Mr. Otterness's critters -- which I've seen adorning The Gates at the Cleveland Public Library, greeting visitors at the Hilton Times Square and passing visitors by on New York's Subway -- there's something delightful about their simplicity, they're just plain cute, and the social commentary adds another dimension -- but until the Crying Giant they've all been relatively small critters. The Crying Giant is huge, but no less cute. As a single figure, without a given context, the social commentary is less clear but still possibilities run through my mind.

The drizzle continued throughout but I walked to a place I had walked by on my last visit for lunch -- Winstead's Drive-In. The place looks like it's been in that location and largely untouched since the 40s which was kind of cool. I have to say, I wasn't that impressed by the food. The fries were OK, the burger was about as thick as two quarters stacked on top of each other and generally wasn't anything to write home about. Probably not a place I'll plan on stopping at on my next visit.

Returning to my car at Nelson-Atkins I wanted to visit the museum gift shop to see if anything pulled my eye, but before I got there I found the installation-in-progress of Roxy Paine's Sumacks and Dendroids -- using a computer programmed to quasi-randomly extrude plastic resin in various patterns with varying amounts of time, motion, etc. I'm fascinated by it because Industrial Automation has always interested me and this strikes me as an interesting application. And when the machine is in action it draws quite a diverse crowd from museum staffers ("Are we supposed to dust it or...?" "Well, actually they recommend Armor-All") to children ("Cool! What is that thing?") to seniors ("How can you call that art! A machine is making it, not a human!" -- where I had to quite forcefully bite my tongue to avoid retorting that a human made both the machine and the program by which the art is being created.

Breaking my gaze on the molten plastic that had stopped pouring out of the machine and was no in the "cooling" cycle, I browsed the museum store before finding a book for my flight home and a gift for my very good friend. At checkout I was asked if I was a member... I said I was visiting from out of town and asked if my Cleveland Museum of Art membership card would work. It did. The gentleman assisting me mentioned that he had tried to visit the Cleveland Museum of Art but "most of it was closed" at the time and we discussed the renovation/expansion and the similarities in architecture.

All in all it was a good visit, but after six nights in a hotel, I am looking forward to my own bed -- but a Cleveland Orchestra concert first. When I tried checking in for my flight I wound up having to call and spent a total of about 90 minutes on the phone. But everyone I talked to was quite helpful, so... fingers crossed.

Lincoln
*- Note: I don't work for the company named, the company I work for is a specialty subcontractor.

Cleveland Museum of Art: Save The Date/Atrium Preview

Most people who know me know that I love pulling back the curtain -- looking behind the scenes, touring buildings while construction is in progress, attending rehearsals -- anything to see how something comes into being, and in a way how something evolves.

That's why I was delighted when a very good friend invited me to the Cleveland Museum of Art's "Save the Date" event last night, in the Museum's grand new atrium. I wasn't sure what to expect from the space or event, but entering the atrium I've been eagerly peering into through a 12" portal for the past couple years I was a bit awe-struck. The west wing is only a skeleton of steel; the north wing galleries and office space are open studs with the beginning of drywall. Scaffolding is covering a portion of the 1916 building...construction equipment is scattered, the floor is unadorned concrete...The atrium's glass ceiling is finished.

In addition to my attraction to construction in progress I've always found some attraction to the trendy-party-in-a-gritty-abandoned-warehouse concept that seems to appear in movies yet I've never found in real life -- but this struck me as a very close substitute in terms of the physical texture. (Attendees were required to sign a construction liability waiver, but hard hats were not required)

From the precarious perch of a scissor lift, museum Director David Franklin announced to the assembled crowd that he was proud to announce the $350 million acquisition of a piece of art entitled "Construction Site". While clearly a joke (with a few laughs from the crowd), even in this state the scale of the atrium an the project it is a part of is clear; it will be an amazing space both for the museum and the City of Cleveland, and if the level of finish seen in the phases completed thus far is maintained, the finished product will be a work of art.

That "finishing" -- the grand reopening of the Cleveland Museum of Art -- is now set for December 31st, 2013. Planning ahead, let alone two and three-quarters years ahead is something rather notoriously not done by the male side of my family...but if they'd let me I'd be thrilled to RSVP now.

After the introduction the party adjourned to the museum's North Lobby and Gallery 101 -- the typical location for events like the member's reception -- with a great assortment of food and drink. The rooms were simply buzzing with excitement, and after working the room for a while my friend and I found a bench and chatted until the crowd thinned.

Lincoln

Lincoln in Kansas (City) Day, Um.... [Museums and Such]

So you may have noticed that I didn't post anything for the past two days despite being in Kansas. Simply, nothing remotely bloggable happened -- I met with my clients for 8 or more hours, then retreated to the hotel room to catch up on email &c. I did find a local BBQ Place that's pretty good, and some more localized chains -- all within walking distance of the hotel; for some reason I really like walking. Aside from that it's been pretty quiet.

This morning with some loose ends tied up I found myself with a day more-or-less free to explore. Everything that I had thrown into Google (Kansas City Art Museum, &c.) pointed to the other Kansas City -- i.e. Missouri, or KCMO -- as being the place to be.

So I ventured over there. #1 on my list (of one item) was the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art. While I was researching the Nelson-Atkins, I discovered that they're mounting an exhibition of Monet's Triptych Water Lilies, reuniting the three panels for the first time in decades. One of those three panels is owned by the Cleveland Museum of Art. The exhibition doesn't open to the public until this weekend and I figured that I would miss it. But after I arrived at the museum, I discovered that this was the exhibition's Member's Preview Days.

I approached the information desk, showed my CMA membership card ("Fellow" level; I never leave home without it)... and I asked if I could sneak in. Moments later I had a ticket in hand, and they were even kind enough to validate my parking (since Nelson-Atkins members always park for free, a nice perk if I do say so myself). I wasn't sure what to expect for a single-artwork exhibition: It opens with some background information on Monet and his works. Rounding the corner to see the three panels for the first time it was spine tingling. I'm rather familiar with the Cleveland Museum of Art's portion of the triptych -- the left most panel, it turns out -- but completely unfamiliar with the entire work.

While each panel is substantial on its own, the three together create an amazing panorama. The exhibition includes quite a bit of information about the structure of the works including paint layering, a photo of the work in progress and more. Another highlight on display at the Nelson-Atkins is James Naismith's original, type-written 1891 rules for the game of "Basket Ball" -- yes, the original 13 type-written rules that still, to a large extent define the sport evolved to be Basketball. I'm not much (ok, any) of a sports fan, but seeing a document that has survived for 120 years and is still relevent was amazing.

The museum's collection is comprehensive and of high quality. I was particularly drawn to their photographic holdings, which include the entirety of the former Hallmark Photography Collection and spans the entire history of photography from the early 1800s to the present.

In their contemporary galleries I was amused by the presence of Donald Judd's "Large Stack", continuing the tradition of every museum I've attended with a contemporary collection having one of Mr. Judd's collection of boxes -- I don't think any two are identical, but they are instantly recognizable as Mr. Judd's work. On an opposite wall was Mr. Judd's Untitled (Progression), which I think is the first work by that artist that didn't involve a stack of identical boxes, and I found it much more visually intriguing.

After wandering through the majority of the galleries, I took a break for fresh air and stepped outside the Kansas City Sculpture Park. If the general Beaux Arts design of the museum's 1933 Building, the terraced (in this case with grass rather than marble) step down to a large open space (in this case a large lawn with jumbo badminton shuttlecocks rather than a fountain and Wade Lagoon) wasn't enough to conjure a connection to the Cleveland Museum of Art the presence of one of a casting of Rodin's Thinker on the terrace has to cement it.

While waiting for my lunch (yeah, I know I'm breaking chronological order), I figured I'd read the Wikipedia article for Nelson-Atkins... and clarity instantly came with "The building's classical beaux-arts architecture style was modeled on the Cleveland Museum of Art..." (I really encourage you read the History section of the Wikipedia article). Another wonderful similarity between CMA and the Nelson-Atkins Museum are both offer free admission every day that they're open.

Getting back to chronological order, after wandering through the sculpture garden and decrying the on-site restaurant's menu as too frou-frou (I've never found an art museum with a cafe serving food I'm actually interested in eating) I figured I'd explore Kansas City a bit on food. No maps. No plans. No destination. I wound up in Kansas City's Country Club Plaza which strikes me a as a fairly organic up-scale shopping district limning both sides of Emanuel Cleaver II Boulevard. The only food options I initially noticed were all universally high end chain restaurants.

On the way back, by chance I zigged onto a side street and found "Blanc Burgers+Bottles". I talked myself out of an alcoholic beverage but had a pretty good stuffed blue cheese burger and fries (served in a miniature shopping cart). I loved the decor -- clean lines, white, orange, and mirrors ruled the day -- and it ranks among the most contemporary places I've eaten. I wish there were more places like this (that I knew of) in Cleveland, where dark seems to rule the day. Following lunch I waked back through the sculpture garden but detoured to the Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art -- also free to the public -- with an impromptu tour of the perimeter of the Kansas City Art Institute campus along the way.

The Kemper is pretty small with relatively few (mostly large-scale) works on display, but the quality and visual intrigue is high. I stopped by the gift shop on the way out, and a very cute robot made out of re-purposed household items (including a band-aid box for the torso and forks for the limbs) reminded me of the paper crafts of a friend. I really...really... wanted to take it home with me. It's just that cute. But at $242 I need to think about it a bit. The good news is I'll be back in Kansas in another week so if I can talk myself into it between now and then at least I have that option.

It had started to rain heavily while I was in the Kemper so I made the straight line (fortunately...remember no maps... I was navigating solely by gut) back to Nelson-Atkins, finished my way through the galleries... took a few minutes to meditate on a bench... and left. I tried visiting Union Terminal -- home to a model railroad exhibit and the Kansas City Rail Experience, but as apparently all of the attractions in the building close at 4:00 and I arrived at 4:15...no trains for me (on this trip). The building, though, is a magnificent edifice to what the glory of transportation used to be -- soaring and decorated ceilings, wide open spaces. I fly home tomorrow. Though this trip has actually gone much better than I expected, I am once again looking forward to returning to my own bed.

Lincoln

Cleveland Museum of Art: The Lure of Painted Poetry (Member's Reception)

Based on my preference to walk to the roughly 2.5 miles to the Cleveland Museum of Art rather than drive, the colder temperatures mark a significant decrease from my weekly visits the other three seasons of the year. So it's been a few weeks since I've made it to the museum.

My excuse to visit tonight -- not that anyone should ever need an excuse to visit one of America's great (and permanent-exhibits-free) art museums -- was the Member's Reception for the exhibition The Lure of Painted Poetry: Japanese and Korean Art, a free exhibition opening tomorrow and running through August 28th. Driving to the museum this evening the timing of this exhibition in relation to the recent Japanese earthquake and tsunami struck me as either very fortuitous or very ominous.

The exhibition introduction was given by Seunghye Sun, the Associate Curator of Japanese and Korean Art after a introduction by Director David Franklin. You could tell that both were quite excited about the exhibition, but Ms. Sun's comments in particular were invigorating: Having joined the museum's staff within the past year, she commented that her ability to organize the exhibition in such a short time--using objects predominantly, if not exclusively, from the museum's permanent collection--comes from the renown of Cleveland's Asian Art collection as "the best in the United States" and already being quite familiar with the collection by reputation from her previous posts.

Ms. Sun's comments were brief, but insightful. In describing the screens on an island in the exhibition space she remarked that they were like characters on a stage and it was up to the viewer to understand their story. And entering the exhibition hall, that's precisely the feeling that struck me: Characters forever frozen in time, waiting for you to understand their story. That's actually the attitude by with I approach most art but something about the screens at the visual centerpiece of the exhibition makes it particularly worthy of asking and introspection.

Backing up a few steps, as I approached the exhibition hall I wasn't sure what to expect as Asian Art is far from the top of my "favorite types of art" list, but I tried to keep an open mind. And that openness was rewarded. While my previous Asian art experiences* were earthenware heavy, and earthenware just isn't my thing -- though there is some pottery, this exhibition predominantly is screens and scrolls which I find much more visually interesting.

And I was impressed both by the artistry and the variety. Some pieces are explicitly detailed, while others provide only general shapes or movements and leave much to be filled in by the imagination. Some are monochromatic making extensive use of shading to create depth while others are monochromatic and flat; still others use varying amounts of color. One interesting thing that registered early on is that even where the central art was monochromatic the scrolls on which they were placed were often brightly colored.

The exhibition ends, of course, in the gift shop. But before you get to the gift shop the exhibition concludes with a wall full of beautiful but large Japanese characters. The philosophy of one, that people are drawn to those with warm personalities like "Clouds Chasing Dragons" was particularly memorable; as was the beautiful assortment of cast glass pieces to the right of that wall.

One of the claims of the exhibition is to explore the relationship between Chinese poetry and Korean and Japanese art, which is intriguing, but based on how crowded the galleries were and how wantonly some were disregarding what I consider to be basic tenants of museum etiquette** (wow, am I sounding curmudgeonly tonight or what?) I didn't really explore this on this visit; perhaps in a future visit. Ms. Sun, during her opening remarks, also encouraged a visit to the Museum's Ingalls Library for anyone interested in further research. For those who don't know the library -- with its beautiful reading room -- is located on the 2.5 (yes, second-and-a-half) floor of the Breuer building,

Lincoln

* See the bottom of here for my visit to the Asian Art Museum of San Francisco, or here for my visit to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts which has a rather extensive Asian collection.
** - They may not be official tenets, but among things that I consider sacred: Do not walk in front of someone who is taking in a piece or its label copy, rather pass behind so as not to disrupt their concentration; the taller should allow the shorter space to view; do not position yourself so close to a piece [for an extended period of time] such that others can not view the art-- particularly if those people were there before you; if you are going to engage a group of people in conversation not related to a piece, do not do so in close proximity to art, lest ye prevent people from actually seeing the art.

Wade Lagoon in Pictures

Ok, I promise I'm not going to make a habit out of this but what can I say, I'm a sucker for water, fall colors, reflections, and geese and this is a time for all of them.

Sunday, after visiting Treasures of Heaven at the Cleveland Museum of Art and before I started the walk home I figured I'd do a lap around Wade Lagoon (in contrast to the ruggedly natural feeling of Shaker Lakes, Wade Lagoon has a decidedly manicured and hand-crafted feel to it) -- I saw one of the marble benches and decided to sit down. Within moments, I had a few geese visiting with me...and I snapped a few pictures on this beautiful fall day.

All of the photos that made the cut can be found on my Flickr Photostream but my favorites are here as well (and this time you can most certainly click for a larger version...for full 3264x2448 resolution just to email me) ...

Peace, Love, and Happiness

This was actually the first scene that caught my eye: The Museum's Chalkfest was a few weeks and a few heavy rains ago, but these three symbols endure. Later contemplation: Is this a Catch 22? Can you have one without the other two?

Be at Peace With The Moment

Within moments of sitting down on a bench I had three geese come to visit -- they didn't seem to mind me at all. More photos are in the photostream, but I love this one: The reflection of clouds on water; A grounded bird in such proximity to both the sky and the water...and the fact that he was no more than two feet away from me.

Scale


I wasn't sure if this would work but I think having the lamp post in the frame gives a much better sense of the scale of both the lagoon and the Museum's 1916 building... plus it hides a crane the museum is using during construction.

Grand Dame of Euclid Avenue

There's nothing terribly remarkable about this shot of Severance Hall, home of the Cleveland Orchestra -- but as anyone who's been tortured by one of my driving tours of Cleveland knows, this is, architecturally, my favorite building in Cleveland. I couldn't walk by on such a nice day and not take a picture. Plus the fall colors beautifully frame the hall.

Urban History

I love poking my head around corners, above ceilings, looking behind shelves and under rugs for signs of companies, people, and things long past and giving a sense of the true history of a place and the people who have come before. I think this stems from growing up in a city where anything older than 1989 is deemed worthy of historic preservation, but whatever the source...This manhole cover on Euclid Heights Boulevard carries the name of the Cuyahoga Telephone Company.

"The who?" you might ask. I certainly did. Referring to the Encyclopedia of Cleveland History, the Cuyahoga Telephone Company name came into use in 1898 and merged with another firm in 1914 making this manhole cover somewhere between 97 and 113 years old... Think of all the the men, women, cars, winters, and ideas that have passed over it during that time. Company names as well: Ohio Bell, AT&T, Ameritech, SBC, AT&T, to name just a few. And I hope I look that good when I'm pushing 100 years.

Incidentally, Jeptha Wade was one of the founders of the Western Union Telegraph Company. You know how this story started at Wade Lagoon? Yep. Same person. The land upon which the museum and lagoon now sits was donated to the City of Cleveland by Mr. Wade in 1881.

Lincoln