Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Letter "K"

We were walking at Mount Maxwell on Salt Spring Island when I saw this "K" as clearly as one could ever hope to see a letter of the alphabet in the forest.  I took the picture and continued walking, and as we got closer, I realized it had been an illusion.  In fact, the "K" was formed by two trees.  However, it seems a good way to start a "K" post in a late entry for ABC Wednesday.

My "K" words for this post?  Well, they vary in tone quite a bit.  I go from "kin" to "kind" to "keen" to "kaleidoscope" to "Kahn" (artist) to "Krau, Karg-Elert, and Kirk" (musicians) and then a space to give you a chance to stop reading, because the last one is "kill" as it pertains to a sad but breakthrough moment for me a couple of weeks ago when I witnessed a mink drown a seagull. That section of the post is not for everyone, but it registers an acceptance of a fact of nature that I have resisted for a long time.  As always, I am happy if you find time to read just one section of the post, so I have used titles to make that easier. 
KIN
On Granville Island last week, I saw these Afghan hounds.  They were on the other side of the playground, but I had my big lens on the camera and was able to call a request to their human, John, for permission to take some photos.  He was fine with that.  We had met before, as the last section of a blog post on April 24th, 2009 describes.  At that time, he had told me about the family consisting of Papa (very protective), Mama and four kids.  He had an elderly rescue dog at home as well, no relation, but kin nevertheless.  This time, he had only five dogs with him.  Since I didn't get close enough to ask questions, I'm making a guess that the two here are Papa (on the right) and daughter.  Papa was staring  all the way across the playground at Black Jack, and did not take his eyes off her for the entire time we were there.  He clearly took his responsibility to kith and kin very seriously.
 

I think this is Mama.  She and her hubby truly seem to be kindred spirits.

Afghans are especially fun to photograph.  Not wanting to stress Papa too much, we didn't stay long.  I wondered why there was one less dog than three years ago, but felt reassured to see that the sense of kinship between family members was still strong. 

KIND
This is Twister.  I posted about him on July 18th and was happy to see that he was still doing well almost two months after I first met him. He is alive due to the kindness of a lady who comes twice a day to throw fish and beans in the air.  He cannot pick up any food from the ground because of his malformed bill, but he has become adept at catching and swallowing food that is thrown.  She also brings oatmeal to keep the other seagulls busy so that Twister can take full advantage of his nutritious meals.  I love this story and watch for Twister each time I walk on the other side of False Creek.

KEEN
My examples of "keen" were all taken a couple of days ago.  I think these first five require no explanation.







The very bright tree in this next photo is at the end of my street.  I think it is an example of "keen" because..
it seems determined to make up for the other trees on the street that have lost their leaves.
KALEIDOSCOPE
The next five pictures were taken a couple of days ago as well.  Fellow blogger and friend, Penelope Puddles, did a post in March about kaleidoscopes.  It was a fascinating post that addressed the wonder I felt as a child the first time I looked into a kaleidoscope.  You can see for yourself how Penelope transformed one of her own beautiful photographs into a kaleidoscope, learn about societies for people who love kaleidoscopes and even read about a connection to quantum physics that I had never for a moment considered.

For some reason, that post came to my mind when I looked at a few of my photographs.  I thought they reminded me a little bit of kaleidoscopes.  

  

  
Thanks, Penelope for giving me new ways to think about kaleidoscopes.

ARTIST
I found several fine artists whose names begin with "K" but selected Wolf Kahn for this post.  He moved from Germany to England in 1939, at the age of 12.  The Wikipedia article (linked above) doesn't go into details, but I thought about the stories that must linger behind that move.  He now lives in New York City during the Winter and Spring seasons, but spends Summer and Autumn in Vermont.


He uses pastels and oil paints in a combination of two techniques, realism and colour field.    

The painting below (public on Flickr) showed up when I googled Kahn.  The artist, R.Zellers, was copying Kahn's style.

I have driven through Vermont in Autumn and it really is a spectacular place to enjoy the seasonal colour changes.  This painting reminds me a bit of my "keen" tree in that the path is the one brave blaze of colour  hanging on for just a bit longer.

MUSICIANS
When I was studying music at McGill, I remember my music teacher suggesting I listen to Lily Kraus.  I did, and was of course blown away by her playing, but it is only in the exploration of her life for this post that I discovered two videos about her: Part 1 and Part 2.  What a precious gift I felt I had been given to watch her teaching masterclasses, listen to her speaking of her passionate love for her husband, hear a friend of hers describe their time interned during the war, and listen to the words of her children who adored her but suffered immeasurably each time she had to be away for concert tours.  They are about 13 minutes each to watch but well worth the time.

Here, you can listen to Lily Kraus playing Mozart's Piano Sonata no.11, k331, Rondo Alla Turca.  It was recommended in my "1,000 Recordings to Hear Before You Die" book.  I have put a link to that book's author, Tom Moon, because I am really grateful for the three years that he took to research and document the lives and work of so many musicians.  Tom Moon's life is probably at least as interesting as those he writes about.  So many countries visited, so many genres explored, and so much true appreciation comes through as he describes the music he admires and loves.  As he says in his introduction, "Every day for more than three years, I went off searching.  This book is the product of my journey.  It's been an odyssey powered by the thrill of discovery and governed by a simple notion: that the more you love music, the more music you love." Perhaps, a subject for an "M" post one of these days :)
 
Tom Moon was not the person who introduced me to musician, Jonathan Scott, playing a 1908 Art Harmonium in a performance of Sigfrid Karg-Elert's Totentanz Op. 70 No.2.  It came up in a random search for musicians with "K" names.  However, I think he may have been as excited by my find as I was.  As someone said in the comments, "I have read that Karg-Elert's great strength as a performer was as a virtuoso on the Kunst-Harmonium.  Thank you so much for bringing this facet of this composer's artistry so vividly back to life. Your performance is superb in every way."  Karg-Elert, shown below, was internationally oriented and struggled against the cultural climate in pre-WW1 Germany.  The last few years of his life were unhappy, a fact that I think shows in his expression.  However, I think, like Tom Moon, he would have been very pleased to hear Scott's fine performance of his music. 

Rahsaan Roland Kirk (1935-77) was born on August 7th (my mother's birthday).  He is another musician a teacher recommended I listen to while I was in university, but somehow, became lost at the back of my memory in recent years.  I enjoyed reading this Wikipedia article about him.  I hadn't realized that, for the last two years of his life, he continued to perform by adapting his technique to accommodate paralysis on one side after suffering a stroke. A second stroke killed him in '77, but this is a man who held nothing back, as you will feel in this performance, "Volunteered Slavery (recorded before his stroke). It goes through many phases in ten minutes, starting with a solo, then, at around the two minute mark, he goes on a walkabout through the audience.  The microphone doesn't pick him up during that walk, but someone says in the comments that he doesn't think Kirk breathed once in that entire walkabout.  He of course, does, but he is master of a technique some call circular breathing.  When he returns to the stage, he builds the intensity and emotion to give a performance that takes you on a wild ride.  Kirk was blind and performed on two and sometimes, three, wind instruments at the same time, so there was a kind of circus-performer aspect to his playing that put off some music critics.  However, Warner Jazz put out a 22-track compilation of his performances between '65 and '76.  I enjoyed this article about that performance, and in particular, these words by Chris May: "Initially derided by "serious" jazz critics, who thought he belonged in a carnival side show, Kirk ultimately won over most skeptics. He was an experimentalist hardwired into blues and gospel roots, an incandescent soloist, and a supreme entertainer. He was also an articulate supporter of the black and civil rights movement. He just about had it all—and his music still sends shivers up the spine 35 years after his death."
There you have my ABC Wednesday "K" post.  Thank you so much for reading any part of it. You can check out people's contributions for the letter "N" by going to this link.  As mentioned at the beginning of this post, there is one more section, but scrolling down will take you to some pictures that will be disturbing for many of you.

Warning: Disturbing photos below of a mink drowning a seagull.

























I heard the screams of the seagull as Black Jack and I walked along the seawall.  They only lasted a few seconds, but sent chills down my spine.  

What I saw horrified me.  The scene dominated my thoughts for several days.

Vegetarian for more than 40 years, and vegan since January, the killing of another living being is abhorrent to me.  However, I came to some conclusions this time.
1. I forced myself to look, first through the camera, and then, at the photos. No more hiding my head in the sand, pretending all nature is cute and adorable.
2. Animals have to eat, and many survive only by killing.  They have to learn how to do that or die.
3. It's not easy.  They work hard for every bite they eat.
4. There is no malice.  They kill as quickly as they can, and there is very little waste.
5.  I still don't like it, but I accept it.

I was able to get a close enough picture of the seagull to know that it wasn't Twister, and for that, I was relieved.  I'm sorry, young seagull, that you were the loser this time.  The mink must have swum up under you so quickly that the game was over before you knew it had started.  Eat well, little mink.  You worked hard and you earned it.

When the screams shattered a beautiful day, Black Jack and I were not the only ones to hear them.  Several people watched with me, and in fact, I had a memorable conversation with a very empathetic young man.  A wave of seagulls also arrived at the scene.  Family and friends or just by-flyers?  I don't know.  I think they quickly realized there was nothing to be done, but I thought I saw grief in this adult's face.  However, within a minute, they were gone, the victim was silent, and I was alone with my thoughts.  If you did choose to read this, I thank you and of course, would be interested in your response.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

The Letter "J"

*Another long one, folks.  Just pick a section that appeals.
Music with a "J" connection
Last evening, we saw a movie that has to fit into my "J" post, because my mind is buzzing with the joy of this documentary's music, story and heart-touching main character.  We almost didn't see it.  I had suggested another movie, but Bill uncharacteristically disagreed with my choice.  It would have been sad to miss "Searching for Sugarman" and I could barely contain my gratitude as I babbled endlessly during our walk to the cafe around the corner from the theatre, where we sipped lattes and digested the movie along with a delicious sandwich.  Bill loved it too, but he joked that I could repeat "I loved this movie" only six times.  I was down to four and a half when we left the cafe, so I guess I'm now down to three and a half.  Apart from the jubilation I'm feeling, there is another "J" connection.  Sixto Rodriguez's parents immigrated from Mexico to Detroit in the 1920's.  He was born in 1942 and for a time, went by the name, Jesus Rodriguez.  I'm not sure how he came by that name.  It wasn't his given name, and at some point, it seems to have been dropped.    This is the only spoiler-free review of the movie I've found.  We wondered why people clapped as it was beginning.  Later, Bill thought it may have been because there were people in the audience seeing it for the second time.  I know I want to go back and see it again, really, really soon.  I also know that I hope you will see it.  My suggestion is to read the review I've linked, but skip the trailers and other reviews.  Make it a gift to yourself to let the story unfold in its own sweet way.  I feel I can promise that you won't be disappointed.  (Photo taken from this site.)

Art with a "J" connection
We came across this sculpture called Lovers ll when we stopped by Vancouver's City Hall gardens one day.  I was sad that it had not been kept clean, but even under the bird poop, I  felt drawn to its magnificence.  

I photographed the plaque and went home to find out more about the sculptor.  
Trained as a veterinarian and forced to repeat his studies three times in three different countries, Gerhard Juchum remained determined to create art in every spare minute that he could find.  His story is told poignantly at this web site.  It is one of courage, persistence and dedication to a city he came to love.  It has stayed with me. 
 
If you find yourself in Vancouver, stop by City Hall and  take some time to enjoy Lovers ll, and maybe say a small thank you to Gerhard Juchum for hanging in when most would have given up.  You can also see his "Fisher Hauling in the Net" at Van Dusen Gardens and there are other sculptures on Vancouver Island in Port Hardy and Port Alice.  There is one other supposed to be at Jericho Beach called "Untitled" that I will be looking for the next time I visit the park. 
"Joseph" in Chemainus
Seeing "Joseph" in the beautiful town of Chemainus, B.C. was a very enjoyable experience.


We walked a little before the show and found many lovely scenes like this one.  
Gorgeous murals and flowers filled just about every available space.  The murals alone will definitely merit their own "M" post.

 A jellyfish on Salt Spring Island  
I haven't figured out how to judge..

if they are alive, but the shimmering colours are jaw-droppingly lovely either way.
Ravens are the jokesters of traditional lore, and there is a pair on Salt Spring Island that I have watched during our three visits there.  I had a goal to capture the pair flying together.  That wasn't achieved but I judged this one's jetty silhouette to be worthy of posting.
 
Its jaunty and jam-packed choreography seemed to impress the mate. Whether it was serious or jesting, I couldn't tell.  Perhaps it was claiming its jurisdiction,  

or perhaps it just wanted to show that it could journey to its destination in a jiffy, via wings with jagged edges more magnificent than those of any jet. 
A jolly good time with Black Jack 
At first, I believed she was sleeping, but then.. 

I thought I caught her peeking.. 
and soon it was obvious that I was correct.

I guess she had been joshing all along.
"So, am I cute or what?  You be the judge."
Another day, she seemed even more determined..
to stretch her jaw wide for a dental examination.
I thought she might be trying to join me in a good laugh here, and indeed, our jocularity wasn't jaded at all. 

Her job judiciously deemed a success, Black Jack figured she had earned a rest. A "J" shape in the clouds over David Lam Park


Two more musicians and three more artists with "J" names  
I had found these and then forgotten about them, but it seemed wrong to leave them out.
In the "J" section of 1,000 Recordings to Hear Before You Die by Tom Moon, I found George Jones. By clicking over his name, you can listen to "Wild Irish Rose" and clicking on She Stopped Loving Him Today will take you to another of his famous songs.  (I suggest turning your volume down for the 10-15 second advertisements before all videos linked in this post.)  In the first song, Jones sings of a homeless man who had been to Vietnam and I thought I read, in his expression, a personal connection.  In fact, although I learned from this Wikipedia article that he signed up for the United States Marine Corps during the Korean War, he spent his entire service in California.  Another article stated that he had served his time in Korea.  As with the conflicting information between those two sites, there is much in this musician's life that is contradictory.  Perhaps, what I saw as his connection to the lyrics is more about his many years of alcoholism.  You can read in that same article a famous story of his highway drive to the bar in the wee hours of the morning on his lawn mower because his wife  had locked up the car keys.  Sober for the past ten years (he credits this to his 4th wife), he has an active tour schedule that he says will continue until June, 2013, when he plans to do his last public performance.  By my calculation, he will be 82 years old.  He has made an indelible mark on the world of country music and it has been fascinating experience to explore his life.  The photo of him below was found at this link.
You can listen to Norah Jones sing "Miriam" at this link.  It is a bitter, angry song, set to a hauntingly beautiful melody with a childlike purity to it.  I like many of her songs; she is a talented jazz musician.  I loved "Miriam" until I watched the video and thought about the lyrics. Now, it disturbs me. That opens up a question that has been on my mind for some time.  While our baser instincts (jealousy, bitterness, revenge) need a safe outlet, is relief only possible when they are made public? I would love to hear your thoughts on that. Perhaps I am misinterpreting Norah's intent, or worse, guilty of expecting her to curb her creativity when it makes me uncomfortable.  Her photo below was found at this link.
 
Okay, I confess.  I used to be a musical snob.  I laughed at country music publicly, but privately, found myself loving the songs on an old cassette that a music teacher in New Brunswick gave me in 1988.  We used to listen to it as we traveled together to community band practice in Houlton, Maine .  I never really stood up for country music when most of my musician friends put it down, but the truth is that I love the story telling that all good country singers excel at. While some of the songs are just too "heartbreaky" (that's got to be a word), others break my heart just right.  I will leave it to you to figure out what that means, since I'm not sure I can put it into words any better than that.

I found Allen Jones in The Art Book and this photo of him here.

 This colourful painting is one of a series titled "Hermaphrodite."     

I photographed this write-up out of the book and hope you can read it.  Perhaps, the fact that stood out for me is how influenced he was by Jungian philosophy.  As for his art, I am attracted to his strong colours.

Gwen John (1879-1939) is pictured below.
I love this painting called "The Precious Book."  It makes me think of my friend, Phyllis. 
Again, I have photographed the write-up from the book.  What stands out for me is that she was Rodin's mistress.  He called her "my little artist" but neither he nor her artist brother, Augustus, gave her her due as an artist worthy in her own right of great distinction.  In fact, though her brother achieved  more fame in his own time, she now surpasses him.

Below, you can see a photograph and a self portrait of Alexei von Jawlensky (1864-1941).  I am struck by what seems to me to be anger and mistrust in his eyes.


I really love his painting called "Schokko" which means chocolate.  Apparently, the model had asked for a cup of hot chocolate.  




Again, a write-up photographed from the book and again, it is the colour that pulled my eyes to the painting.  The article suggests that Jawlensky relies on colour to express emotion and I would say that technique works extremely well. ABC Wednesday is now on the letter "N", but I forge ahead with my late entries, enjoying the stimulation that Mrs. Nesbitt and her team have fostered.  Thank you so much for visiting my blog today.  Now, I hope you will take a little trip over to the ABC site to see "N" posts from people around the world.