Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Maryland--You Can't Go Home Again

By Chuck

Today is simply an exercise in nostalgia for me; accordingly, you are excused from further reading.

I attended the University of Maryland as a graduate student in Philosophy many years ago.  I last saw the campus 42 years ago.  Since we are passing through anyway, I had decided to see how things had changed over the years.  They had.



The entrance is far more grand than what I remember.  But, this is definitely an improvement.


Our first view of the campus--a green area where we used to play football. 

Rossborough Inn, on campus, was built about 1804 and I imagine it had a front row view of the War of 1812, wherein the White House and Capitol were burned by the British.


Ritchie Colesium.  This was the venue, on one occasion circa 1965, for a forum on issues concerning--as I recall--good, evil and the question "Could the horrors of Nazi Germany ever occur here?"  It was thrilling to hear intellectuals of the day--including Hannah Arendt and Norman Podhoretz--debate weighty issues.  Arendt was a political theorist (and philosopher) who escaped from Nazi Germany & Paris and who spoke to the 'banality of evil.'  Podhoretz was for many years editor-in-chief of Commentary magazine.


The Dairy & Visitors Center.  The Dairy looks different; but, they still sell delicious and creamy ice cream.  I had Coffee Chip, yesterday, and Fear the Turtle, today.  Unfortunately, we are eating at a real restaurant, tonight, so I will be unable to have another helping.  I loved that the Visitors Center, in the same building, has 5 minute parking so you can get information.  In our experience, other campuses are not so helpful.  But, we were able to walk from our motel, today.


 

Memorial Chapel.  I associate this building with 3 memories:  1. My first year here, I was on my way to the Chapel to hear The Messiah at Christmas, when I both feet came from out under me and I landed flat on my back before I knew what happened.  2. The organ for that recital was awesome, in that limited space, filled with so many people.  3. I joined a book-discussion group associated with this interdenominational church.  I was looking both for variety of intellectual content and personal contact, not religious instruction.  Since our department's idea of Philosophy was pretty much the analysis of language, and most people interested in the subject at that time were looking for a values-based approach that wasn't traditionally religious.  Also, I had never been out of California before coming here--except for Tiajuana and the Nevada side of Lake Tahoe--so, I was alone and lonely.  I got to read some Existentialist works by Kierkegaard, Kafka and others.

\


Approaching Skinner Hall, home to the Department of Philosophy

Skinner Building, front view

Old grad student with former professor and advisor, John Brown.  We had a nice chat with Professor Brown, who is 81, still teaches one class per year and has focused on aesthetics from a philosophical perspective in his teaching and writing for many years. 


Off to explore the rest of the campus


 McKeldin mall, looking toward the library



The Omicron Delta Kappa Fountain, with quotes from FDR and MLK, Jr.  This was not here in 1970, but it is a lovely addition.  That is McKeldin Library in the background.



 The Sundial is a gift from the class of 1965.  But, it had not been installed while I was here.  Nice touch.


 McKeldin Library

Student docents telling prospective freshmen about the campus tradition:  It is good luck to pat the nose of the campus mascot, a bronze Terrapin named Testudo.


Notice that even cyclists honor the tradition.  I remember watching an undergraduate student with severely impaired vision, when I was here, walk out of the library every single night, stand in front of the terrapin, and salute it with his white cane, with briefcase in his other hand and his giant monocular tucked under his arm.  It was quite touching.  I have often wondered what ever became of him.


Claire was impressed with the campus topography.  We did note that there were no bike lanes on campus, though there were occasional bike racks.  Also, the campus runs along a major highway--US 1--on one side; bicyclists traveling that route must compete with pedestrians for space.


About to enter the Student Union, I stop for a chat with Jim Henson and friend.  He graduated from here a few years before I arrived.


Student Union


I did not eat at the White Castle burger joint very often; but, it had cheap food and long hours; I am sorry to see it gone--the logo is missing at the top and there is a 'For Lease' sign in the window.


 Greek Row, a horseshoe of 14 fraternity and sorority houses

Couple with two fresh haircuts

 Closer view of Greek Row--there seem to be two types of building, some with 4 pillars, others with 6

Fear the Turtle is both an ice cream and a sports motto at UMD.  They bite ferociously, but can they run?


Almost all buildings had changed from the inside.  The library was unrecognizable, as was the Student Union interior.  There were no computers back then, just desks for studying; I did have a locking carrel to myself, which allowed me to stash books, safely, and sleep without being noticed.

There are many new buildings, of course, and the whole campus seems just outsized.  There are roads that have been expanded or even created.  I am certainly glad I came; but, it's true:  You can't go home again.

But, we can go out to dinner again--and we did.  I decided that Claire deserved a nice dinner, so I scouted out the Calvert House Inn, exquisite seafood--a Maryland tradition since 1963.  She had a warm shrimp cocktail appetizer, shared with Chuck; the Cajun Tilapia; a cup of seafood chowder; a calcuminto salad - cucumber, fresh mint, tomato and onion in a light oil and vinegar dressing; and, for dessert, a raspberry mousse torte!  Wine was a Pinot Grigio.



I had mostly the same, but my entree was A Symphony of Seafood--Broiled selection of:  a crab cake, a stuffed oyster, petite fish filet, two sea scallops and two shrimp.  My dessert was a passion fruit mousse torte.  We should do this more often.



The time spent learning lasts a lifetime.  ~ Anonymous (Quote from plaque on UMD sundial)


Monday, October 8, 2012

The Walking Dead

By Chuck

We started the day with high hopes and higher energy.  Sadly, that only lasted about half a day.   Our goal today was to transit to Central Park and ride bikes around the paths and do some free-form exploring.  Well, the bike rental shop wasn't open, so we had a hot chocolate and a Danish--guess which of us had what--saw the people who couldn't operate a bike trying to take off and decided that maybe we'd be happier walking. 

I always think I get a better sense of a place walking, rather than driving or biking.  I have that, but not much else, in common with John Muir. 

Our first site of the day:  The Dakota--Home to John Lennon & Yoko Ono, as well as the birthplace of Rosemary's Baby.


Tribute to John Lennon, his song and his message:  The Imagine mosaic is just across the street from the Dakota--in Central Park.  161 nations--all that existed at the time--each contributed distinct flora to the surrounding Strawberry Fields as part of this memorial.  The area is designated as a quiet zone.  Lovely.


Strawberry Fields

Bethesda Fountain in Central Park

Boy proposing to girl in Central Park, accompanied by pre-arranged harpist--at least that is our fantasy of this scene.


The Boathouse in Central Park, which houses a restaurant, a café, restrooms and a bicycle rental shop--that is behind it, actually.


Our view over hot chocolate and Danish from the Boathouse café.


Tourists standing in front of Bethesda Fountain

Street artist in Central Park


City in the park, or is it the other way around?

This Victorian era building is the Dairy.  Back in the day it actually dispensed milk to school children.


We liked the many "arch dips" in Central Park--we'd likely call them tunnels or overpasses--and I liked Claire's style.


We were surprised to see so much hard rock protruding from the greenery of Central Park.  I guess Frederic Law Olmstead was happy to use them as design features.  Besides, they are part of the children's playground--kids of all ages were scampering all over these outcroppings.


 We loved this scene, especially the vine-covered bridge.


As we left the park we saw the beginning of a parade.  It finally dawned on us why the helicopter had been flying overhead for so long and why there were so many school-age children walking about:  It was the Monday to celebrate Columbus Day in NYC! 

It was time to move on.  Claire agreed to humor me and we took the subway to the Museum of Natural History.  Turns out that was probably a mistake.  We were tired before we got there, frustrated as we tried to find the entrance, and overwhelmed by the crowds of children inside--school holiday, remember?  We did get the $29 senior rate for two admissions, and they were nice enough to inform us that this was a suggested contribution--we could pay anything we wished!  We were both disappointed:  We had trouble finding our way around, many of the areas were blocked off for work, and we had already seen most of what they had to offer--at the Fields Museum in Chicago.   The Museum comprises 25 interconnected buildings that house 46 permanent exhibition halls, research laboratories, and its renowned library.  This explains the difficulty in navigating.  I also think about a fourth of the 5 million annual visitors were present, today. 

We did see an interesting video display of the 6 billion year evolution of the universe since the Big Bang, narrated by Liam Neeson.  We found out that our diet regimen is paying off:  Claire would weigh only 18.4 pounds on the moon, and I would weigh only 27.6.  We were not interested in the numerous museum stores that seemed to appear at every corner.  

Full disclosure--we were tired and burned out; I was not really excited about riding a bicycle through Central Park; Claire was not really interested in the Museum of Natural History at this juncture in the trip.  Wisely, we returned early, to relax, watch another episode of Doc Martin and try out season 2 of the Swedish TV version of the Kurt Wallander series based on novels by Henning Mankell.  We enjoyed being off our feet and the Doc season finale; but, Claire was disappointed by the treatment of Wallander--the books are far superior.

One thing we have enjoyed on our subway trips is the clever advertising.  JetBlue has a campaign to provide: 
Election Protection 2012/ If your candidate doesn't win, don't worry.  Here's your chance to get out of the country with a free flight.
The accompanying poster says:  Live Free or Fly.
On another train, paraphrasing this time:  You are a real New Yorker when your idea of doing dishes is recycling take-out containers.


I haven't been everywhere, but it's on my list.  ~ Susan Sontag

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Museum Day

By Claire

The forecast was for rain, and we needed and wanted to see two museums--the Guggenheim and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  Our plan was to get to the Guggenheim when it opened at 10, take the tour at 11,  lunch, then walk to the Met and do the Highlights Tour at 1:45.  We didn't realize that the newest exhibit at the Guggenheim, Picasso Black and White, had just opened on Friday.  Add the rain and a Sunday--well, you get lots of people.

The line was down the block at 9:45 when we arrived, but we made our way in with only minor pushing and shoving.  We purchased our tickets and walked through a low ceiling, narrow entry which opened up into the large first level where we took in the breathtaking rotunda. It is another example of Frank Lloyd Wright's genius. He tricks you with compact space then awes you with size.  We walked up and around the circular ramp, marveling at how perfectly everything worked as a space.  It was intimate, yet uncrowded.  You can see art from across one side of the ramp to another.  Below is a photo I took off the internet to give you a really great example of how amazing this building was and is, set in the New York cityscape.  And it opened in 1959!  It looks so modern.  FLW hated New York--don't forget he was a nature boy--but agreed to design this building only because it faces Central Park.  With the use of a large window on the bottom level, he was once again able to bring in the green of nature and the natural light.  He added a skylight at the top to flood the entire circular structure with additional light.  FLW did not live to see the finished product but was inside the construction phase close to the end. 







I thoroughly enjoyed out tour with Wendy, an artist herself.  There were 3 of us at the start and two more jumped in as we were talking in front of one of Picasso's paintings.   I have never really been a fan, but Wendy took us to about 5 paintings and a sculpture from different periods, explaining in detail what we were seeing. She also asked for feedback from us and it was interesting to hear what the others thought.  Each example she used of his work was unique.  I have a new appreciation of Picasso.

We grabbed a very nice lunch in the café, which was crowded by now--at noon--with few tables.  I was lucky to get us two seats.  Next up, "A Long Awaited Tribute:  Frank Lloyd Wright's Usonian House and Pavilion."  On October 22, 1953, Sixty Years of Living Architecture opened on the site where the Guggenheim Museum would eventually be built.  Two Wright-designed buildings were constructed specifically to house the exhibition:  a temporary pavilion made of glass, fiberboard, and pipe columns, and a 1,700 square-foot, fully furnished, two-bedroom model Usonian house representing the architect's organic solution for modest, middle-class dwellings (Forget about Kentuck Knob--that "modest" Usonian dwelling ended up costing $96,000 back in 1955).  Despite his fifty years of international architectural recognition and practice by 1953, Wright had yet to erect a building in Manhattan.  How did we get so lucky to see, yet again, another Frank Lloyd Wright building and an exhibit? 

With his model of the Guggenheim

We hustled off in the rain, 4 blocks south to the Metropolitan.  As we approached I could see the masses crowding around the front doors, queuing up to get in.  I am not a crowd person.  However, I was determined to see this iconic building and a tiny bit of its contents.  Trying to avoid eye damage from pointy umbrellas, we pushed through the crowd along with everyone else.  After a bag check for our two purses (Chuck does carry a man-purse for our maps and guide book), we were swept into the incredibly long lines where, in the distance, you could faintly make out what the prices were ($25 adults, $17 seniors).  It wasn't the long line so much as it was the continual body contact with strangers and the people screaming into their cell phones--do they really think the party to whom they are speaking cannot hear them???  At any rate, I bailed.  I just knew I would not be having a good time.  Chuck will tell me all about it when he returns.  In the meantime, I am going to finish reading the Sunday New York Times.

That's Chuck in the blue rain jacket


 
On my journey home on foot and by subway, I came across this sign.  It pretty much says it all.


By Chuck

I came to the Metropolitan Museum of Art once before--in 1965.  I saw a painting that made a very strong impression on me.  There were surgeons who had just finished operating, had blood on their hands, and the doctor in the foreground was wiping his bloody scalpel across his vest.  I was unable to locate it, today, despite several turns through the American Art section of the museum and asking several docents, guards and information desks.  Disappointing.

The Highlights Tour was excellent.  Each docent gets to make up his or her own tour.  Beverly, our guide, asked a friend what she would like to see in such a tour.  Answer:  Something jaw-dropping.  She succeeded in doing that.  We saw examples of sculpture by American, African and Roman artists.  I thought the work Ugolino and His Sons, by Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux (1827-1875), was amazing.  The original composition was cast in bronze (1862-63; Museé d' Orsay, Paris). 

It tells the story of the Pisan traitor, Ugolino della Gherardesca, imprisoned with his sons and condemned to starvation, and was told by Dante in The Inferno (canto 23). Carpeaux shows the anguished father resisting his sons' offer of their own bodies for his sustenance.  The detail is unbelievable:  You can even see the tensing of muscles and the indentation of the fingers on the father's leg!  This version was executed in marble in France (Paris), 1865-67.


Also memorable were the painting of George whats-his-name crossing the Delaware River--for the realistic detail and the symbolism in this oversized image--and the picture Heart of the Andes by Frederic Edwin Church--this latter was the only image from the Met in our Frommer's NYC Guide Book.  It was inspired--some 50 years later--by images from Alexander von Humboldt's expedition to South America (1799-1802).  These were both part of a successful pay-per-view showing back in the 1850's. 

I finished off by seeing the Frank Lloyd Wright living room from Little House, originally built in 1912-14 in Minnesota.  This is all that is left of the house, today.  It looked beautiful and familiar.


The world today doesn't make sense, so why should I paint pictures that do? . . .I paint objects as I think them, not as I see them. ~ Pablo Picasso