Col. Vawter’s Day, Morgantown, IN

I made the trip back to my small hometown recently for the annual festival known as Col. Vawter’s Day. Although smaller than I remembered from when I lived there, the main street was still lined with tables selling handcrafted knick-knacks, jewelry and food. Of course I was immediately sidetracked with classic cars on display at Bob Poynter’s Chevrolet. (Of course, my favorite was the green ’67 Mustang, among others.) We ate lunch at the Methodist church, who was selling a fantastic chicken dinner.

Although Col. John Vawter wasn’t exactly the first person to arrive in what is now known as Morgantown (located about 31 miles south of Indianapolis on St. Rd 135), he was one of the main people active in getting the town plat changed from what it was drawn previously. Most of these changes included widening streets and redrawing the lots. Normally, towns and cities were drawn near sources of water, and Morgantown residents were definitely able to sustain its crops by the creeks and streams that outlined the area. The first half of the 20^th century proved Morgantown to be a bustling little town, complete with a movie theatre, car dealerships, restaurants, a bowling alley and all kinds of shops.

Col. John Vawter is an interesting character himself, having been married four times. Originally coming to Virginia from England, he then made his way to Kentucky and eventually found his way to Madison, IN, where he was the first magistrate. He was later appointed to U.S. Marshall for the state in 1810 and later served as a frontier ranger for the next few years after that. He found his way to Jennings County and founded the city of Vernon. During this time in Vernon, he was instrumental in constructing homes, the first schoolhouse and the Baptist church, for which was he a licensed Baptist preacher. He was also a member of the state legislature and a state senator as well. I was amazed to learn that Col. Vawter abhorred slavery. He would often “buy” as many slaves as he could, only to sell them back to themselves for nothing in return.

The entire day, I was constantly running into people whom I haven’t seen for years, and sometimes to my chagrin, I didn’t necessarily remember some of their names. The shops, the food, the cars, the music and even the miniature horses I saw on the sidewalk filled the air with small-town camaraderie. I accepted that while names and faces may fade over time, there is something that I did come to realize. While I was living there, I always dreamed of leaving, and at every chance I could get. And I did leave: Japan, Brazil, Chicago, Indianapolis… But I wouldn’t be the same person I am today had I not grew up in Morgantown, a portrait for any small town in America. Everything that happens to you shapes who you are, and coming back to a festival designed around celebrating its roots and beginnings made me realize that.

[Resources: Jennings County, Indiana 1816-1999, Jennings Co. Historical Society via Google Books

One Hundred and Seventy-Five Years on Main Street in Morgantown, Indiana 1831-2006, material compiled by Jeanne Weaver and Henrietta Hickman]

Indianapolis Museum of Art

I came with a purpose. No, it wasn’t to get in trouble for taking pictures on the wrong floor – which I didn’t mean to. Honestly, I didn’t see any sign. I came because I was interested in something – something I dream of learning to do: beadery.

I’ve seen Native American beaded bags and moccasins, and I love it. I really wanted ideas on patterns, so what place to go to get patterns from different cultures was to start with the Indianapolis Museum of Art.

One of the best things I love about my art museum is that it’s free. FREE!! Can you believe that? (And parking is free too.) They say you can’t put a price on art, and I guess they didn’t. To me, it’s one of the best art museums around. That’s probably not completely fair to say, since I haven’t been to a ton of art museums to make an accurate comparison to, so maybe I’m just a little partial to it. (In my defense, my husband and I did spend the day – just the two of us – at the Art Institute of Chicago on our wedding day in lieu of having a wedding ceremony with tons of people who would just stress us out.)

Anyway, in 1883 Mary Wright Sewell, a local school principal, came together with 17 other individual to found the Art Association of Indianapolis. John Herron, namesake of the John Herron Art Institute, donated $225,000 with the sole purpose to start an art school and gallery, with the one stipulation that it bears his name. It moved to its permanent location, a building designed by the firm of Vonnegut & Bohn. (This Vonnegut is the grandfather of famed author Kurt Vonnegut.) Throughout the years, many local dignitaries donated funds to expand the art galleries and its exhibits. But in 1966, things become harry, and the Herron School of Art lost its accreditation, later becoming part of IUPUI, and the art museum moved to its current grounds (donated by Ruth and Josiah K. Lilly, called Oldfields.) The Art Association then changed its name to the Indianapolis Museum of Art in 1969. The new area made way for a lot of expansion, and they were able to gain many renowned collections. In the past few years, the Indianapolis Museum of Art renovated and opened the Oldfields-Lilly House and Gardens as well as the Virginia B. Fairbanks Art and Nature Park.

It’s nearly impossible to see everything in one day. We headed inside for today, and wandered around for 10 minutes trying to find a bathroom (I wonder why a 4-year-old’s bladder never seems to respond to the probing question “Do you have to go?” until 10 minutes after we leave an available washroom). But after that unscheduled adventure, we found Native American Art, where I finally got to take my pictures of beaded artwork. We headed over to parts of Asian Arts, which always leave me mesmerized how well-preserved many of the pieces are, considering the age of these pieces are older than the U.S. is as a country.

And finally, my daughter wanted to see the dresses in the Textiles and Fashion Arts. She claimed that she was scared when we walked into the wing, mostly because the manikins without heads seemed creepy to her. I was scared mostly to think that someone might have actually worn these dresses. Or worse yet, that someone was anorexic enough to fit in to these dresses.

I really wanted to visit the Fairbanks Art and Nature Park, but my kids were too tired by that time. Perhaps that is left for another day. Perhaps in the fall: that would make for some really nice pictures. But altogether, it made for a nice day out. Even if I didn’t see everything I wanted. I think they designed the museum like that on purpose, to entice me to come back. As if I needed any more enticing.

[Resources: www.imamuseum.org]

Fringe Fest 2010 – August 21, 2010

The weird, the lights, the fire, the exotic, the drama. It’s all found at Indy Fringe Fest, which hosts 280 shows in 10 days all along the Mass Ave corridor in downtown Indianapolis. This was my first time attending Fringe Fest, even though the idea to bring the Fringe Fest to Indianapolis was proposed in 2001.

Actually, the whole idea of the Fringe Fest idea was started in Edinburgh, Scotland in 1947. There was a cultural and theatre festival that was intended on uniting Europe through cultural arts after the war ended. There were way more applicants than expected, so not being deferred by such trivial things as space, they set up camp outside of the main festival and performed anyway. They all performed tirelessly and drew almost more of a crowd than the main festival itself, and thus created a new following. It spread to Canada in the 1980s, and then spread to the U.S., where there are now more than 20 Fringe Fests happening annually.

I took my family down to Mass Ave on Saturday night, and we literally set up chairs right on the sidewalk next to the Dean Johnson Art Studio. Some friends of mine are part of Phoenix Fire Productions and were performing with Indy Hoopers and Carenza’s Caravan, and of course we went to show our support for all of them.

Phoenix Fire Productions is a group of fire-spinners (sometimes called fire dancing) that performs with a variety of props, usually staffs, juggling, poi (wicking material in the shape of a ball on arm-length chains), whips and fans. Fire-spinning has its roots in Polynesian arts, mostly originating in New Zealand’s Maori culture and Samoan traditions, but it’s crossed over to include traditions related to pagan fire ceremonies and Middle Eastern belly dancing. I was really impressed with the fact that they took safety precautions very seriously – they weren’t just a bunch of pyros messing around, leaving me to fear for my life. While they’ve only been performing together for a matter of months, they each have many years of experience, and it shows. There are a variety of fuels, but they tend to use white gas (also known as petroleum ether) because it is highly volatile and burns clean, doesn’t really smoke or leave much of a residue on the wick. (However, word on the street is that thanks to jerkwad meth-heads, it’s becoming harder to find.)

But they weren’t the only ones there to entertain us: Indy Hoopers showed us that hula hoops weren’t just the fad of the ‘50s. It was graceful, and reminded me of Cirque du Soleil. Hoop dancing is actually part of a broader artform called “flow arts.” And this is nothing new: hooping goes back to 1000 BC in ancient Egypt, and also referenced in 14^th century England when physician’s notes included treating people who threw out their backs due to hooping. It was later when British sailors visited the Hawaiian Islands and merged the hula dance with hoop dancing. Native Americans in the southwest U.S. also have hoop dancing traditions as well. Definitely, the coolest part of their performance was when they used hoops equipped with flashing LED lights after it became dark. It made for some really cool pictures.

And last but not least, Carenza’s Caravan, a group of four belly dancers enlightened us with their sensuous movements. Belly dance, a literal translation from the French “danse du ventre,” refers to a type of Middle Eastern dance known as “raqs sharqi.” There are many styles ranging from all over the Middle East to northern Africa and into parts of Europe. Some historians believe that the origins of belly dancing lie in ancient fertility rituals in pre-Islamic Arabia. There are many different traditions in types of dancing and costuming depending on which country you’re in. They do use a variety of props, such as finger cymbals, canes, veils, fans, and even swords. I was personally amazed at the sword dance. I can only imagine the incredible amount of control it takes to master this. I can also see definite consequences to screwing this up. I’m not sure if I could do that. Well, maybe I could. Maybe.

The whole evening was a blast. Definitely something I’m glad that my kids got to come out for. My daughter got the chance to try belly dancing, and she also got a lesson in juggling. Granted, we didn’t get to see any of the numerous theatre groups that were set to perform, but there were many of the actors walking streets in costume promoting their plays by handing out advertisement cards. It was one night where I felt like I was in my element, surrounded by fellow artists, musicians, and people truly loving what they do.

[Resource credit goes to various articles on Wikipedia]

Sunken Gardens, Garfield Park -- Indianapolis, IN

Sunken Gardens, Garfield Park – Indianapolis, IN

French Impressionist painter Claude Monet said, “I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.” And anyone who has ever seen any of Monet’s paintings knows that flowers are his pièce de résistance. In fact, flowers of all shapes, sizes, and colors fill his garden and home in France. Perhaps it’s true that beauty comes in the simplest forms.

This is what I thought about when I walked through the Sunken Gardens at Garfield Park on Indianapolis’ near south side. The gardens are open daily from 10am – 9pm through September 30. (Winter hours are 10am – 5pm.) It is located on the west side of the Garfield Conservatory and is free to the public.

The Sunken Gardens are nearing its centennial anniversary, marking its completion in 1916. It took two years for the planning and building of the gardens, with new greenhouses and the Conservatory becoming part of the park at the same time. Garfield Park, named after President James. A. Garfield, is Indianapolis’ oldest park which turns 137 years old this year. Not only is it beautiful to look at, it is “recognized as one of Indiana’s most significant works of landscape architecture” according to the pamphlet I picked up in the Conservatory.

Full of summer bloom, the place is alive with the colors of the season. I’m not a horticulturist or a gardener by any means. I can’t tell you the names of most flowers, or trees for that matter. My thumbs are definitely not green; more like brown, because that’s the color all my plants turn into. But I do respect their vast array of color, beauty, and simplicity, and I love to look at them from an artistic point of view. I love fresh cut lilacs or peonies in the spring. There’s nothing better than nature’s air freshener.

There’s something that happens when you walk through a garden like this. It takes you back to nature. For a moment, you escape the city, the noise, the busyness. Nineteenth-century England capitalized on this, often organizing trips to the country, made famous from such Romantic poets as Shelley, Keats, and Wordsworth. They believed it was good for the soul to reconnect with nature. And this reconnection with nature was one of the inspirations behind (American poet) Walt Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass” among other poets and poems. Artists alike, besides Monet, have been inspired by nature since the inception of recreating it, from Rembrandt and Van Gogh to Georgia O’Keefe and Ansel Adams.

In fact, when the University of Indianapolis was known as Indiana Central University, they used to have a mandatory day where you had to travel to Brown County State Park (about 45 miles south of Indianapolis) just to enjoy the scenery. I don’t know if they still do that or not. We try to instill the need to be able to get back to nature, but there are many kids who live in the city who do not travel outside of it. I think the Indy Parks people are doing a good job at adding and maintaining parks and green areas throughout the city, and the adjacent Conservatory does have programs aimed for all ages to teach about plants, flowers and gardening, as well as promoting a clean environment.

I found this to be a wonderful place to sit, eat lunch, grab your book and enjoy an hour in peace and quiet and take in the scenery.

Fourth of July -- Martinsville, IN

Fourth of July – Martinsville, IN

July 4, 2010

The Fourth of July usually marks the halfway point of summer, the crux, the pinnacle, the apex if you will. Corn is supposed to be knee-high by this time, as the saying goes, but I believe it got to “knee-high” weeks ago. Our celebration is not unlike everyone else’s: firing up the grill, inviting friends and family over, sitting outside in the heat, entertaining all the kids, and later that evening, we’ll all go somewhere to watch the fireworks display.

The Fourth is a celebration marking the adoption of the Declaration of Independence (from Great Britian) on July 4, 1776. Actually, the legal separation of the original 13 Colonies took place two days earlier. Even though some of the noted signers wrote that all the members signed on July 4, most historians have concluded that it was more likely that it was signed nearly a month later on August 2. It’s also interesting to note that the only signers to become president (John Adams and Thomas Jefferson) both died on July 4, 1826, the 50^th anniversary.

Observances occurred as early as the one-year anniversary with 13-gun salutes, dinners, toasts and fireworks. Massachusetts was the first state to recognize the day as a state holiday. The term “Independence Day” didn’t occur until 1791. In 1870, Congress made the Fourth of July an unpaid federal holiday, but in 1938, they changed it to make it a paid holiday. New York City holds the country’s largest fireworks celebration, with over 22 tons of fireworks exploded! The Fourth of July Parade in Bristol, Rhode Island is the oldest continuous celebration in the United States. And as my dad always has to watch every year, the Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest has marked the obsession with engorging yourself with food in Coney Island in Brooklyn, NYC since 1916. And of course (one of my favorites) the Boston Pops Orchestra has performed annually since 1973.

As a kid, we would always go to Martinsville’s display at the Jimmy Nash City Park. I really think it has one of the better displays. And the people cheer. It’s really fun, actually. This year, we sort of turned on a wrong street, and ended up camping in some guy’s side yard and watching it from there. We couldn’t see the ground displays, which are usually impressive from what I remember. But the aerial displays were lovely.

We took our kids for the first time to see a large display, and they loved it. My four-year-old daughter was finally OK with it, and my younger son is a fearless one-year-old, so he loved it all. It always amazes me the different shapes and colors they can create in fireworks. They had a new one this year that I haven’t seen, and it somewhat resembled a red worm crawling down through the sky.

Even though I’m an adult now, fireworks still puts me in awe. I can’t help but watch. Perhaps I’m no different than any average toddler or a house cat, how twinkling sparkling things catches my attention. (Although, I prefer sparkling things set in platinum or silver bands, size 6, please. But I’ll also accept chest-length necklaces or 7” bracelets.) Or perhaps, this is one of the few holidays where there is no religious, racial or ethnic affiliation involved. We are all drawn together in celebration based on geography – we’re all Americans – no matter what we look like; no matter where our ancestors came from; no matter what spiritual paths we take; no matter how big or small our bank accounts are; no matter what side of the railroad tracks or street we live on. We come together to celebrate the independence of our nation. It definitely has its faults and could be better, but it’s not a bad place to live by any means. I love it here. No matter where I go in the world, I’ll always be an American.

Free concert series -- Garfield Park, Indianapolis, IN

Free concert series – Garfield Park, Indianapolis, IN

July 1, 2010

One thing you should know about me is that I love free things: free food, free events, free stuff. So, I was ecstatic when I found a free concert series that runs every Thursday in July at Garfield Park’s MacAllister amphitheatre. Garfield Park, Indianapolis’ oldest park, is located on Indy’s southside on Shelby Street between Raymond Street and Southern Avenue. Tonight’s music was brought to us by the Greenwood Community Band. The weather was beautiful at 7pm when the music fired up.

Because of the July 4^th weekend coming up, most of the program was from the canon of classic American pieces and patriotic music. A couple of good ol’ marches got the people in the mood, followed by a medley of Civil War songs. I swore the song “Jesus Loves the Little Children” was in the medley. And actually, it was. The words were written by a preacher named Clare Herbert Walker, who lived during the Civil War, even though he would’ve only been five-years-old at the beginning of the war. But his words were later sung to the 1864 tune of “Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!”, written by George Fredrick Root. So, I wasn’t mistaken.

A medley of famed theatre composer George M. Cohen songs brought back a ton of memories for me, because during my freshman year in high school, we did a musical based on George M. Cohen songs. I even think I remember most of the lyrics. Mostly. They then played the song “Shenandoah” which I’ve played many times in piano lessons, band, and choir. They performed a nice arrangement; I wish I knew who did it.

A few folk songs are a must to be included. Then the famous “Colonel Bogey March,” made famous by a great movie called “Bridge Over the River Kwai.” I’m sure everyone has heard this song, but they probably have no idea where it comes from. Originally a book by Pierre Boulle (under the title “Le Pont de la Riviere Kwai”) was published in English in 1954, and the film was produced three years later. The famous bridge that Boulle wrote about doesn’t actually cross the River Kwai. He was mistaken and assumed that the “death railway” crossed the River Kwai, where in reality, it crossed the Mae Khlung.

As appropriate, they did the salute to the armed forces, playing each of the regiment songs from each of the branches of the military. I had my daughter stand up for the Army to represent my step-son who is active duty in Afghanistan, and my son stood for the Marine Corps, in honor of my husband, who was sitting at home finally getting to play Red Dead Redemption in peace.

At this time in the program, a choir comprised of men and women from various churches calling themselves the Festival Choir joined the band on stage for the remainder of the concert. They started out with Irving Berlin’s “God Bless America” (Berlin [born Israel Baline], originally wrote the piece in 1918 while serving in the US Army at Camp Upton in New York, but put it away because it didn’t fit a revue he was working on. Later, Woody Guthrie didn’t care for it, so he wrote a “This Land is My Land” as a response. This piece has also been proposed to become the national anthem.), followed by “America the Beautiful” (a poem originally written by Katharine Lee Bates and originally called Pikes Peak, later put to music by Samuel A. Ward who never saw the popularity of his most famous piece. It’s been proposed many times to replace the national anthem with this song.). Next came “Battle Hymn of the Republic” (an American abolitionist hymn written in 1861 by Julia Ward Howe. The tune was written around 1855 by William Steffe with two sets of different lyrics, and was originally a campfire devotional song.), and finally ending with John Phillip Sousa’s “Stars and Stripes Forever” (composed on a ferry in Europe on Christmas Day in 1896. Most Sousa bands adhere to the Sousa practice of using one or three piccolo players [never two] during the trio section. Congress designated this as the National March of the United States.) I had no idea that “Stars and Stripes Forever” had lyrics, but apparently it does, written by the composer himself. The official version is played by the United States Marine Band and is in the key of E-flat, which is a nice key to play in. I like E-flat.

It made for a very enjoyable evening, even though I spent the vast majority of the concert teaching my 4-year-old and a 1-year-old about bands, choirs and instruments, and eating cookies and finding dropped toys, and noticing the people walking dogs in the park and planes flying overhead, while the sun slowly edged behind the trees and the cymbals crashed.

Slamology 2010 -- Indianapolis, IN

Slamology 2010 – Indianapolis, IN

June 18-20, 2010

The Slamology custom car show, sponsored by Gauge Magazine, showcased the best of the beautiful and the works-in-progress at the Marion County Fairgrounds in Indianapolis, IN. This is actually my third time going to Slamology because my husband enters his truck in the show, although this is the seventh year for the event. We have a custom 2000 Chevy S-10 that he completely painted up himself and put in air bags, among a thousand other things only him and our bank account remembers. This year was hot, and I mean scorching hot. Hotter than any car or truck there. But not hot enough to make me want to enter the bikini contest. That would be about as pretty as a 1978 Mustang II (and if you know anything about Mustangs, you know that’s the ugliest one ever.)

So anyway, there are some forty-odd classes of vehicle type you can enter in (ours was in “lowrider pickup truck mild”). And there are some requirements to be able to show too (although it’s a little ambiguous): It’s a custom show, so you have to have customized something on your vehicle. Usually a low-level customized vehicle involves getting rims. I could’ve probably entered mine if it was clean with a nice set of rims. Usually after that, you would change out your lenses (taillights and headlights) and grill, upgrade your sound system and add a new steering wheel. Then comes a decent paint job with some graphics and interior work. It’s hard to tell which to do first, second or whatever, because it’s all based on points you earn for what you’ve modified on your vehicle and what condition it’s in. There’s no real order to customizing – mostly it has to do with how much you can pay for at a time.

I tend to give more dap to the guys who put their own blood, sweat and tears into their vehicles themselves than to the guys who paid someone to do it up in a shop. That makes it all a money game. But really customizing is all about your heart and your ideas, putting your dreams into something tangible. Each vehicle out there had a story, like an artist tells about his work, from how he got the vehicle to how he got the work done and the inspiration that goes into it. It’s an artist colony surrounded by oil and wax, V8 engines revving occasionally, local rap and rock being played over the distorted speakers, scantily-clad women, and semi-cold beer (although I must place a disclaimer that the Marion County Fairgrounds do not permit alcoholic beverages on the premises. But perhaps these people missed the sign. I mean, it was only huge.) In the midst of a sun-driven tent city with clear coats glistening, I always feel proud when people walk past and take pictures of my husband’s pride and (mostly) joy.