Cities of 2019

I'm a bit late to recording the places that AA & I visited, for work or vacation, in 2019. We have some more travel coming up, so it made me realize I had yet to take stock and express how fortunate we are to be able to travel and take in these new experiences (e.g. here is the 2018 list). I've always said that the more you travel, the smaller the world becomes, in ways that are rather humbling. We as a people have a tendency by our nature to see ourselves myopically as being at the "center" of our world, and when you see how many other people out there are existing simultaneously and contiguously, many of whom coincidentally also see themselves in their own "center-world," you realize how short-sighted such a view can be. For some people travel is disheartening or uncomfortable, as you're forced out of a comfort zone, but once you learn to embrace that sense of new-ness, exploring and embracing new cultures and seeing the wonders of new places out there, it's that experience that becomes the most comfortable.

This past year we made a return visit to Iceland because we loved it so much the first time. We saw so many beautiful natural wonders along the southern coast (picture at right of me with a glacier in the distance), but we still never saw the Northern Lights, so at least one more winter visit is in order! Having an opportunity to visit Vienna in November also was very nice (picture above of us on the grounds of the Schoenbrunn Palace). Vienna is a sophisticated city with some great museums and the coffee house culture is more relaxing than I anticipated. It was a long-awaited opportunity for me to see 4 major works of art I had waited a long time to see: Pieter Bruegel's Hunters in the Snow; Benvenuto Cellini's salt cellar; Antonio Canova's monument to the Archduchess Maria Christina; and Gustav Klimt's The Kiss. None of them disappointed.

Within the USA, I was able to get to know Chicago a lot better after we made two visits there together, and I made first-time work-related trips to Minneapolis and Santa Fe. The first city surprised me for its lush greenery (it was June and they had had substantial rain beforehand), and the second surprised me for its dry-desert serenity. I have to confess I'm more of an ocean person than a mountain/desert person, so returning to Ogunquit again gave us a few days of R&R without worrying about site-seeing.

Here's the list of cities I visited in 2019, and ever onward for those of 2020...

Chicago, Illinois (2 visits)
Leeds, England
London, England (2 visits)
Minneapolis, Minnesota
New Haven, Connecticut
New Orleans, Louisiana
Northamptonshire, England
Ogunquit, Maine
Paris, France
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Reykjavik/Hella, Iceland
Santa Fe, New Mexico
St. Petersburg/Palm Harbor/Tarpon Springs, Florida (2 visits)
Vienna, Austria

Portal 11

Portal 11: Carinthia, Austria/Philadelphia (16 July 2016)
(For other works in my Portals series, click here.)

This door [made of walnut with various wood inlays, with iron lock and hinges] is from the central, ceremonial entranceway to the Stiegerhof room ..., a reception chamber from the second floor of a Renaissance manor house. The top panel of the door bears the name and coat of arms of Wolfgang Paul, the owner who had the house renovated, and the date 1589 (presumably the year the decoration of the room was completed). The bottom panel bears the name and coat of arms of Urban Holzwurm, the master woodworker and builder who was probably responsible for the renovation of the house as well as the creation of this door. The side of the door seen here was the most elaborately decorated one in the room and would have been visible only to people who were inside the room when the door was closed.

-- from wall label text (1929-56-1), Philadelphia Museum of Art

Review: The Hare with Amber Eyes

I just finished reading a superb book some of you may know: The Hare with Amber Eyes by the ceramics artist Edmund de Waal. It was highly recommended by a former student of mine who was of retired age, and I'm so glad she recommended it. The book is the story of the author's family's ownership of 264 netsuke, including the work you see here, a beautiful ivory hare with eyes inlaid with amber buffalo horn. For those who don't know what netsuke are, they are finely carved and polished Japanese figurines and sculptural objects no bigger than the size of your hand. Often carved in ivory or boxwood, they were originally made as toggles to hold the string that attached a purse/satchel to the Japanese kimono and obi. (You can download for free the Met Museum's excellent collection catalogue of netsuke here.) By the late 1800s, they had become collector's items not only in the West through the influence of japonisme but also in Japan as a form of its cultural past. De Waal's story recounts how his ancestors first acquired the netsuke from a dealer in Paris in the 1870s, and then continues the story of the netsuke as they passed on to relatives in Vienna during the World Wars, then post-War Tokyo, and modern-day London. But the story is not just about these netsuke. It's a cultural biography of his Jewish ancestors, the Ephrussi family from Russia, how they made their fortune and settled throughout Europe, and how they engaged with the art and literature of their day. It's not all high life society, however. The author also tells with pathos the trials his family endured in a world of anti-Semitism and Nazism, and how his family lost everything because of Hitler and the persecution of Jews at the time.

This book is one of those rare stories that beautifully links art and culture with personal experience. De Waal asks questions such as how people from the past felt about life and art, and how they felt to hold these beautifully carved netsuke generation after generation, hand-to-hand, a symbol of a family saga that reaches backward to the unknown makers of these figures, and forward to the author's own children. His personal experience as a craftsman and artist make his telling of the story even more poignant. To quote de Waal: "How things are made, how they are handled and what happens to them has been central to my life for over thirty years. ... How objects embody memory--or more particularly, whether objects can hold memories--is a real question for me. This book is my journey to the places in which this collection lived. It is my secret history of touch." To learn more about Edmund de Waal, his writing, and his exquisite minimalist ceramics and installation pieces, go to his website at http://www.edmunddewaal.com/.