Katherine Kortikow once said, "You blink and it's dinner." Bill Bryson: ". . for you to be here now, trillions of drifting atoms had somehow to assemble in an intricate and intriguingly obliging manner to create you." Nancy Mitford: "The great advantage of living in a large family is that early lesson of life's essential unfairness." Buddha: "Work out your own salvation with diligence." This and other meanderings . . . .
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Art is Life, A Roadtrip: Napa, Petaluma & The Hess Collection
Surrounded by rolling green hills, vineyards, old barns and spacious green fields blooming in yellow - we could be in Southern France in July. But we’ve taken highway 121 to Di Rosa Gallery, across the road from an estate winery whose graceful outdoor patio overflows into the afternoon with wine-tasting guests. It couldn’t be more picturesque. At Di Rosa, the Gatehouse Gallery features highlights of the larger collection with beautiful views of Winery Lake.
We arrive at closing time. The grandchildren create their own ephemeral installations
in response to the sculptures on the grounds.
At the Hess Gallery and Winery in Sonoma, it’s almost evening. We're in a stately brick building with thick walls and ivy snaking up. The museum on two floors, seems empty. But really, everywhere we turn, we step into space, wonderfully interrupted by art.
Even I find an exhibit, a flaming typewriter by Leopoldo Mahler! This is the omen I am looking for: now I know: my novel will be published this year!
We are beside ourselves with the quality and skill and sheer creative genius of this collection. Here is a Franz Gertsch. Over there are four or five other portraits stretching the room the size of a barn.
We see work by Anselm Kiefer. Oh! There’s Robert Motherwell! Morris Lewis! Minjin Yue. Andy Goldsworthy! Gord and Patrick have the most fun with somber pieces by Magdalena Abakanowicz.
Hess collects the work of 20 living artists over decades in order to support their evolving work over a longer duration. His collection reflects some of the best known contemporary artists.
I reserve my last experience of found art for the sleepy town of Petaluma, a stroll-able hamlet with houses from the late1800s, a cinema, second-hand stores and houses with porches, a variety of high caliber restaurants and hip coffee shops. Most Friday nights, Petaluma Pete plays the piano in the balmy outside air. I was so enthralled, I kissed him on the cheek. He wasn't surprised.
We stayed at Hilltop Wine Country Inn, a B & B whose décor is down-to-the-detail Early American (Maurice is an antique dealer) without being ‘overly-overly’. They have two bedrooms in their spacious spic-and-span home, with a back deck, a cat and a clutch of chickens. The art here is their graciousness and hospitality, something so personal and unique that we return, if only for the sound of Maurice’s voice.
Monday, August 11, 2014
Meeting Robin Williams
It's so strange living in today's world, and so sad. That Robin Williams, a person who is so loved and admired should suffer such private hell that he felt he had to kill himself to stop the pain.
I met him, twelve years ago at the Mill Valley Film Festival. We were filmmakers - Gord and I, and our film Singing the Bones featured at the festival, gave us a place at the table. It was the dinner-time aftermath of a tribute to Jonathan Winters, an inspiration of Robin's -- and Robin was there to pay him homage.
Whenever we're in public spaces, like restaurants, Gord always tells me to go up and order the half refill of coffee, or protest the loud music - or the lukewarm soup. He knows I 'm not afraid of talking to people to get what I want. After all, I am a Yank by birth. I learned this 'not afraid of talking to complete strangers' from my Dad, but that's another story. So it wasn't unusual that Gord said, "You go talk to Robin." Gord's brother, Mark Halloran knew Robin and Williams had helped Mark to acquire a green card so he could perform stand-up at The Comedy Club in Los Angeles. Gord wanted a word with Robin. To thank him for his brother. I was sent in to warm him up.
I'm an actress and have lots of courage when I'm in character, so I picked my most vivacious accented persona, my French-Canadian Nicole. I launched into her accent right away and addressed Robin directly. Luckily I speak French, because Robin immediately launched into French to answer me.
Je lui ai repondu en francais -- and then someone snapped our pic. Robin seemed uneasy to be speaking to me, but it must have been a familiar scenario -- he's famous after all. Fans have got to be introducing themselves to him all the time. I introduced Gord to Robin Williams and stepped away from the table. Robin's wife, whose hand was on his arm, stopped glaring. The whole thing took less than five minutes.
Now I have pictures of three people on my refrigerator who are dead. This is one of them.
I met him, twelve years ago at the Mill Valley Film Festival. We were filmmakers - Gord and I, and our film Singing the Bones featured at the festival, gave us a place at the table. It was the dinner-time aftermath of a tribute to Jonathan Winters, an inspiration of Robin's -- and Robin was there to pay him homage.
Whenever we're in public spaces, like restaurants, Gord always tells me to go up and order the half refill of coffee, or protest the loud music - or the lukewarm soup. He knows I 'm not afraid of talking to people to get what I want. After all, I am a Yank by birth. I learned this 'not afraid of talking to complete strangers' from my Dad, but that's another story. So it wasn't unusual that Gord said, "You go talk to Robin." Gord's brother, Mark Halloran knew Robin and Williams had helped Mark to acquire a green card so he could perform stand-up at The Comedy Club in Los Angeles. Gord wanted a word with Robin. To thank him for his brother. I was sent in to warm him up.
I'm an actress and have lots of courage when I'm in character, so I picked my most vivacious accented persona, my French-Canadian Nicole. I launched into her accent right away and addressed Robin directly. Luckily I speak French, because Robin immediately launched into French to answer me.
Je lui ai repondu en francais -- and then someone snapped our pic. Robin seemed uneasy to be speaking to me, but it must have been a familiar scenario -- he's famous after all. Fans have got to be introducing themselves to him all the time. I introduced Gord to Robin Williams and stepped away from the table. Robin's wife, whose hand was on his arm, stopped glaring. The whole thing took less than five minutes.
Now I have pictures of three people on my refrigerator who are dead. This is one of them.
Thursday, August 07, 2014
Swaying in the gorgeous moment
Yoga on a stand up paddle board? In Tuwanek? I had to try
it. Sunshine, gorgeous scenery,
balance and breathing. I’m an on-again/off-again yogi wanabee. Child’s Pose,
Downward Dog and Tree are my favorite poses and I’m flexible so it mostly comes
easy, but I don’t relax enough. Just breathe enough. Just be.
The first surprise was, I was terrified. We wore what
everyone used to call ‘life jackets’ and tied our boards to our feet, at first.
But the water was luscious, the sun still hot, the sky my favorite bright
blue and Marnie told us we had to jump in and get wet. It was the right thing
to dare us to do; after that we all relaxed.
What I discovered was: I love SUP. Tuwanek is a sweet destination.
And the swaying of the board over the moving water requires balance and mindfulness.
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What I discovered was: I love SUP. Tuwanek is a sweet destination.
And the swaying of the board over the moving water requires balance and mindfulness.
Photos by Vern Minard: http://www.vernbahtiminard.com
Caitlin Hicks is a writer. http://www.caitlinhicks.com/wordpress
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Art Is Life, A Road Trip, Part 4
Ashland to Sonoma
Our mission: To combine an experience of art and hospitality with a trip by car. Our trip: Vancouver to Sonoma.
It's 22 degrees over the hill from Ashland into California, into a valley surrounded by hills. On the horizon a huge, snow-capped Mt. Shasta, looking much cooler than we feel.
Everything seems to have recently sprouted green, and there is a vast open feeling, as we tool past open meadows in the squinty, bright sunshine. We’re practically alone out here on the curving highway, the flat valley, the empty hills dotted with scrubby brush. We’ll be on the road six hours, past small towns, rudimentary cafes, necessary gas stations. But this wide, flatland stretching to sky, with both of us cozy inside the cab of our vehicle, is why we drive instead of fly. We listen to Beethoven and Mendelssohn on NPR in a show called “Played in Oregon”. Purple bushes on the road side in glorious bloom near Redding.
Finally, Napa, then Sonoma emerge, hills and vineyards on both sides of the car.
Driving Highway 121, surrounded by rolling green hills, vineyards, old barns and spacious green fields blooming in yellow - we could be in Southern France in July. But we're at Di Rosa Gallery, across the highway from an estate winery whose graceful outdoor patio overflows into the afternoon with wine tasting guests.
Our mission: To combine an experience of art and hospitality with a trip by car. Our trip: Vancouver to Sonoma.
It's 22 degrees over the hill from Ashland into California, into a valley surrounded by hills. On the horizon a huge, snow-capped Mt. Shasta, looking much cooler than we feel.
Everything seems to have recently sprouted green, and there is a vast open feeling, as we tool past open meadows in the squinty, bright sunshine. We’re practically alone out here on the curving highway, the flat valley, the empty hills dotted with scrubby brush. We’ll be on the road six hours, past small towns, rudimentary cafes, necessary gas stations. But this wide, flatland stretching to sky, with both of us cozy inside the cab of our vehicle, is why we drive instead of fly. We listen to Beethoven and Mendelssohn on NPR in a show called “Played in Oregon”. Purple bushes on the road side in glorious bloom near Redding.
Finally, Napa, then Sonoma emerge, hills and vineyards on both sides of the car.
Sonoma
At Cornerstone, Sonoma, Brigette Mickmacker, owner of the The New Leaf gallery and
curator of the outdoor collection at Sculpturesite, put our experience
seeing her curated collection of artwork into words: “Here in the wine country,
it’s so unexpected. I literally see jaws drop when people see the work here, I
hear them say, ‘I travel a lot, this is a world-class place, what is it doing
here?’ At Sculpturesite, we present seventy five sculptors from North and South
America and Europe, emerging and well-established artists.”
And the artwork is truly world-class. Every piece has a
sophistication and link to an idea – on par with its talent and craftsmanship. No gimmicky conceptual pieces here.
Mickmacker and her partner, John Denham an accomplished Bay
Area figurative artist known for abstracted watercolors (http://www.johndenningstudio.com),
both began their careers in the arts as landscape designers; Sculpturesite
reflects the best of both worlds.
What stands out is the sculpture garden, meandering paths of
exhibits by accomplished and award-winning artists who each have created an
exhibit designed for the garden. Each presentation of work incorporates an idea
that is realized in the artwork and the design of the land around it. It’s a
great place to let the kids experience art in an outdoor setting, as many of
the pieces are interactive.
Sculpturesite exhibits four to five shows a year. “It’s my
passion,” Brigitte says, “meeting the artists, going to artist’s studios,
discovering their work, curating, being a matchmaker in that way. Their website (www.sculpturesite.com)
has over 1,500 pages.
Our accommodation, MacArthur Place, is a heritage estate
completely refurbished from a 6-bedroom manor house built in the 1850s, to a
64-room historic inn, designed by developer Suzanne Brangham. What attracted us was the collection of
art and sculpture in the hotel and on the grounds. The inn partners with Maisonry
of Napa Valley, a gallery cum wine purveyor. Maisonry sources all the sculpture
and some of the artwork displayed at MacArthur Place. Much of the artwork is
for sale and every now and then, a piece sells. When we arrived, we witnessed
the installation of a huge new iron sculpture on the lawn.
With this model, art is again in the public domain,
accessible for the price of a room. But this is not a place for your average
traveler. It’s a luxury resort with a pool, spa and graceful gardens in a
region that can only be considered paradise – perfect weather, beautiful
flowers and trees, state-of-the-art luxury for the leisure traveler. Rooms
begin at $349 in shoulder season and for their best suite top out at $725.
What is interesting about the artwork is that it is
displayed to an upscale viewer/hotel guest in a rustic/luxury setting, and that
it is curated by the developer, Suzanne Brangham. Brangham’s interest in art
first manifested itself professionally when she taught art in elementary
school, but she made her personal fortune buying fixer-uppers, renovating and
flipping them.
She brings her skills with interior design to her role as
hotelier, and the result is a graceful experience of her artistic capabilities
combined with the latest trends in hotel design. It’s a pleasure to see so many
large scale paintings, many of which were commissioned by Suzanne with such
simple directives as “I need a chicken”, or “how about a ranch painting?”
Brangham had her cache of favorite artists and, as the hotel was being made, put them to work. The works are skillfully painted, reflecting the history, the countryside, the animals of the region in a romantic, decorative way. The walls of one room in the restaurant, Saddles, is painted with life size horses as if the viewer were standing in the middle of a barn. Left is a statue of a favorite dog that hung around the hotel as it was being refurbished. Now, it's sculpture with story contributing to the lore of this comfortable, peaceful hotel.
Ten to twelve suites are updated every year, and the result is that no two are alike. The grounds are graceful and idyllic, with large sculptures here and there.
Brangham had her cache of favorite artists and, as the hotel was being made, put them to work. The works are skillfully painted, reflecting the history, the countryside, the animals of the region in a romantic, decorative way. The walls of one room in the restaurant, Saddles, is painted with life size horses as if the viewer were standing in the middle of a barn. Left is a statue of a favorite dog that hung around the hotel as it was being refurbished. Now, it's sculpture with story contributing to the lore of this comfortable, peaceful hotel.
Ten to twelve suites are updated every year, and the result is that no two are alike. The grounds are graceful and idyllic, with large sculptures here and there.
Driving Highway 121, surrounded by rolling green hills, vineyards, old barns and spacious green fields blooming in yellow - we could be in Southern France in July. But we're at Di Rosa Gallery, across the highway from an estate winery whose graceful outdoor patio overflows into the afternoon with wine tasting guests.
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