tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19764240839407473582024-03-12T19:54:49.958-07:00Union FarmLiving the simple but gracious life at Union Farm in Eliot, Maine.Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-4450853830762220672013-08-17T12:20:00.000-07:002013-08-17T12:20:24.935-07:00Mermaid with a Camera
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Calibri;">Nine Questions for Alexandra de Steiguer: The Mermaid with a
Camera</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: white;">During her 16 winters living alone as the winter
caretaker for Star Island on the Isles of Shoals, Alex de Steiguer documented
her experiences in words and pictures in a book called <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Small Island, Big Picture; Winters of Solitude Teach An Artist to See</i>.
Drift Gallery is exhibiting her photos from August 24 to September 22 in
conjunction with the book launch that takes <span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">place on August 24, from 5 to 8 pm. All photos by Alex de Steiguer. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Self Portrait</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">
</span><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">How would you describe
yourself in two sentences to someone who didn’t know you or your work?<br />
<br />
A quirky, often happy, semi-recluse, who follows creative urges (though
many be unsuccessful), for the simple need to express, and for the joy of
potentially giving back that which I feel I have received in abundance
from my experiences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my
photography I – like many artists before me - work toward expressing a
universal; my images are just another “finger pointing to the moon.”</span>
</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Calibri;">Where were you born and
raised and did anyone in your family or life influence your turn toward
the sea?<br />
<br />
I was born in Manhattan, but raised mostly on the edge of the Great Swamp
National Wildlife Refuge in northern New Jersey – a place of wildness and
beauty a mere hours drive from the city, set aside for the use of
migrating birds and the resident wildlife who – I imagine – should be very
grateful, though – rightfully speaking – it was theirs to begin with!<br />
<br />
My influence toward the sea came mostly from books early on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though I had family at the Jersey shore
and would visit often, I don’t think the absolute “wildness” of the ocean
truly struck me until I was on a visit with a high-school friend to her
family’s summer home on an island in Boothbay, Maine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There the coast is rocky and wooded –
unlike the heavily peopled, long stretches of sand that I was used
to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There in Maine I could look out
at the horizon and actually imagine old sailing ships plying the waters
carrying necessary wares, or fishing schooners returning to port, their
holds full of salted catch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
in Maine, the romantic in me could flourish, I could visualize history
more easily – and not just human history – but geologic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sea – to me at that time (and
still), was the epitome of all that is wild, untamed, ancient yet free.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A very appealing image to a young person
just trying to figure it all out. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
I think even moreso now to an adult, who sees a societal system full of fences,
boundaries, and cages, and the way we seem to unwittingly indenture
ourselves to this system. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sea
was my personal antidote to all that.</span></div>
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</span></ol>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Calibri;">When did you begin to
realize your affinity for the marine environment? What was it that
attracted you?<br />
<br />
That first experience on the coast of Maine was the start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was addicted to that sense of freedom
that I felt just looking out at the long line of the sea’s horizon, and I
knew somehow that that’s where I belonged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So just out of high school, I shipped out as a student and crew on
my first sailing ship – an old barkentine called Regina Maris.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Rocks and Sea</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Calibri;"></span> </div>
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<span style="color: white;"></span> </div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Calibri;">Most people reject the
notion of staying alone out on a desolate New England island in winter as
a caretaker. What is it about this mild/wild, serene/terrifying experience
that keeps you going back? There must be some pretty intense storms you
will never forget!<br />
<br />
I think you’ve hit on the answer with your question.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i>
mild and wild, it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i> serene and
terrifying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In other words – it is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">alive</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think this is how we used to feel as a
species, as Homo Sapiens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We used
to experience things the way animals still do, and I think there’s some
part of our ancient brain that still longs for that. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During sixteen winters among them, I’ve
spent a lot of time watching the wild animals now, and I don’t think I’ve
ever seen one look bored, though if they ever are – I imagine it’s not for
long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Curious, sleepy, alarmed,
fearful, joyful, meditative, - what I’m trying to say is that they seem
engaged with each moment in some immediate way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re not waiting for future moments,
or re-hashing past ones, like we tend to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To answer your question – I keep going
back to the islands because I feel alive there too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are storms, and yes, they are
scary and brutal (though none as scary as actually being on the sea during
one – and I’ve experienced my share of those too).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is also calm, there is peace,
there is each moment to be experienced in its turn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel that, on the islands, I have
found life.<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What other marine
experiences/jobs have you had over the years? <br />
<br />
So before my island caretaking job, I sailed as crew – mostly as deckhand
but also bosun – on the tall-ships for about nine years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These ships weren’t “head-boats” as the
tourist trade ships are called.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
had no interest in those.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These
were either research ships or ships with sailing-school missions in which
the voyages were long – mostly off-shore sailing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This type of work made me feel I was
helping to do something positive, something meaningful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think to send a young person to sea is
one of the most important and life-changing experiences that we might give
them… or I should say – that the sea can give them, - that feeling of
actually being responsible for the ship, for your own lives and for those
of your shipmates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>– A voyage for a
young person on a ship, is I guess literally a “right of passage.”</span>
</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Calibri;">Do you crave certain
aspects of the sea, such as the scent or the shoreline, or the waves, or
the sky?<br />
<br />
I crave all aspects of the sea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
think the more of your senses involved the better!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As far as I’m concerned, the sea is a
full sensory experience. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, if
only viewing-photographs of the sea can be appreciated in the same way!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: white;">When did you begin to take
photographs? When and where did you begin to exhibit?<br />
<br />
I started using my brother’s old 35mm when I first started sailing, though
I didn’t think about it in any “serious” sense at that time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But on my third ship, the bosun was
shooting black & white and developing the negs and even printing in
the ship’s foc’sle where he’d set up a very sketchy darkroom
arrangement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He talked me through
the development of my first roll of film – I think while we were underway
from Holland to Spain…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>well, I was
hooked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not because I was so into
the technical aspects as much as I was interested in the creative control
that processing my own film, and then later – printing in a darkroom –
provided.</span> </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">The Sea Exhales</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /><span style="color: white;">
<br />
I’m proud to say I first exhibited my work at Ceres Bakery in Portsmouth,
many years ago now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Penny – the
owner – has generously provided the bakery walls to so many of us artists
over the years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’re reading
this – thank you again Penny! </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Calibri;">How long has your book
(Small Island, Big Picture) project taken? When did you decide to bring
your collective Star Island experience to a book or did you have a book
project in mind from the start?<br />
<br />
Once I started to get serious about the project, it has taken about two and
a half years, off and on.<br />
I’d been dreaming of doing a book though for a long time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the things I’ve never liked about
my “framed, wall images” is that they are very time consuming and
expensive to make, (especially these days - the high costs of wet-darkroom
supplies and film are crazy) and so I have to charge a lot for them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not a crazy amount (compared with some),
but more than I would certainly be able to afford myself - if I were an
art buyer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So a book is really
perfect in that I can offer many more of my images, and even some stories,
in an intimate, take-anywhere, affordable way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also a book is a much better way to get
across the ideas that I’m trying to express in my work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m hoping this book – a combination of
words and images – might inspire people to get out there more and have
their own experiences within the environment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Firsthand is always best!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: blue; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: windowtext;"><span style="color: white;">Was it difficult to find a publisher?<br />
<br />
I didn’t even look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got lots of
advice about this, advice that made sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A book publisher would have owned all the rights, would have
insisted on creative control, and then would be in charge of all the
decisions of where the book would go, when to pull it off the shelves, and
when to stick it on the “sale” table at the big chain stores, meaning –
your book is done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, authors
that go this route – unless they hit it big in the reviews – often make
very very little on their books.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>None of that sounded appealing, so instead I took the chance and
self-published under my own press – “Mid-Tide Press.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I purchased ISBN #’s in a block of ten,
so… I’ve got nine more book possibilities I guess…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stay tuned!</span> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Mermaid</div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: windowtext;"></span><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-68093268284190046932013-07-04T07:12:00.000-07:002013-07-04T07:12:05.626-07:00A Long Time Waiting, Portsmouth Women Finally PublishedWaiting has never been one of my trump cards. And so, the fifteen years it has taken to see a little collection of local women's history, written by women, actually published has been an exhilarating and terrifying roller coaster ride. And a sublime lesson in learning how to wait.<br />
Everyone asks: How long did the book take? To which I reply: One year to gather the subject women and their biographers (for the original 16 chapters) and to see the book written; another 14 years before a publisher came forward.<br />
The vindication has been sweet. The outpouring of support and congratulations quite marvelous, far beyond anything I ever expected. The contributing authors are a fantastic group of writers, intellects and scholars, who've been such a pleasure throughout. So much Girl Power, it makes me so proud. My sincerest hope is that women everywhere dig out the local history of women in their part of the globe. These biographies yielded more twists and turns, more connections to a wider history and happenings than any fiction writer could imagine. A long time coming, but certainly worth the wait.<br />
<br /><br /> (Also, if you haven't read the book yet, pick one up from your local bookseller!)<span class="userContentSecondary fcg"> — with <a data-ft="{"tn":";"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=13002776&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A100001789329551%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/bradycarlson?viewer_id=100001789329551">Brady Carlson</a> and <a data-ft="{"tn":"\u0040"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100001789329551&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A100001789329551%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/lola.pope.37?viewer_id=100001789329551">Lola Pope</a>.</span> <br />
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Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-17728992571004118062013-06-22T11:27:00.001-07:002013-06-22T11:27:46.935-07:00Teacher Teacher
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrffUisItd0hr1GqgcYITJuaphqqcLFkMvQWum3tXePhARqL-WrDgEYpOJ0_D-ckj-6rTh6uao0dzyiY92q4OKNn-4KSREHVo2FN6RtSS_q91DQr8MFBnPBLT1FJraT-60gfbIWqCbsbB3/s1600/student+and+teacher.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrffUisItd0hr1GqgcYITJuaphqqcLFkMvQWum3tXePhARqL-WrDgEYpOJ0_D-ckj-6rTh6uao0dzyiY92q4OKNn-4KSREHVo2FN6RtSS_q91DQr8MFBnPBLT1FJraT-60gfbIWqCbsbB3/s320/student+and+teacher.png" width="239" /></a></div>
<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Laura Pope & Jay Goldsmith, June 13, 2013 at book signing for Portsmouth Women; The Madams & Matriarchs Who Shaped NH's Port City, The History Press.</span></em><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">An Excerpt from The Public Garden, Thursday,
October 3, 2002</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Teacher Teacher</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Personal
Heroes Take Different Forms<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Heroes
are sublime beings whose noble deeds first come to our awareness in children’s
tales. One of my first literary heroes was Thumbelina, whose brave adventures
as a Lilliputian-sized girl flung into the giant-sized outdoor world gave me my
first lesson on how big-hearted people come in all sizes. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Movies,
too, are rife with heroic characters. My favorite ones are those who are thrust
into the role by circumstance. To me, reluctant heroes (Han Solo, Harry Potter,
Frodo Baggins) are the more interesting ones as they struggle with the demands
placed upon them and inevitably discover they have the hero inside them after
all. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Since
last September, there’s been much more emphasis on and greater appreciation of
heroes. The selfless sacrifices made by firefighters, police officers, medical
personnel and ordinary working citizens reminded everyone that regular folk,
not fantasy figures, may be the best champions of all. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">With
all this talk of heroes, I’ve lately decided that good, dedicated teachers are
my personal heroes. Though they do not literally give their lives in the course
of their duties, they do change and give direction to young minds, in essence
affecting generations of thinkers. Despite their magical, transformative
powers, they are relatively under-appreciated compared with the worship given
to star athletes and performers. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Think
about it: A person with a fine education oversees the education and social
maturity of our children for barely a living wage. They are bombarded with
every microbe imaginable that can be carried by a child, stay up late to grade
papers and consciously sustain a disposition of patience and imagination. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">A
good teacher must be organized, an effective administrator and equally at ease
with parents and school boards as well as their young charges. The latter are
rarely on the same page when it comes to level of knowledge, so teachers must
teach to several levels at once and attend to those with special needs and behavioral
problems. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Add
to this scenario, which also includes overcrowded classrooms, the occasional
high-strung parent who won’t take responsibility for or charge of their
children’s behavior or schooling problems and instead becomes a finger-pointer
who raises hell at the front office. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Who
in their right mind would ever choose such a profession? Fortunately, there are
those who are called to the teaching field, equipped with the aptitude for all
the rigors of this challenging career. In such a money-driven society, I wonder
how many potentially good teachers there are out there who pass over this
option for a higher-paying job. Perhaps good teachers simply remember and savor
their own teachers who made a real difference in their lives. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">My
first incredible teacher was Miss Dunbar. She taught fourth grade at the local
elementary school in Daly City, Calif., a suburb of San Francisco. My family
had just moved to the area and many of my classmates were also Navy kids like
me and my sister. The school population was culturally diverse, with a definite
Asian, Polynesian and Hispanic component. My best friend next door was Samoan.
The girl who lived on the other side of our house was Thai. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">All
these cultures and backgrounds did not deter Miss Dunbar, who dressed in a
distinct 1950s style and reminded me of a brunette Doris Day. She was
unfailingly cheerful, optimistic, creative and fair, though her best asset was
that she had this way of making learning an interesting experience, whether the
lesson was about candle-making or synonyms. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Without
realizing it, I was taught how to stay focused and concentrate and how to step
forward to participate in class. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">My
next teacher represented the flip side of Miss Dunbar, though she was just as
pivotal in my early learning curve. Miss Manley (we called her Miss Maneater)
was an elderly woman who walked with a cane, had a pinched face, rarely smiled
and ran her class like a boot camp. She taught fifth grade at the Way School in
Claremont, N.H. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">This
woman was clearly from an older school of teaching, where a certain amount of
fear on the part of students kept things going at a brisk pace. I recall her
hitting a continually disruptive student over the head with a pointer and
breaking it. She also had sharp words in her arsenal and could devastate a
student with three words. My turn came when I couldn’t identify the New England
states she was pointing to on a map. I soon found it wise to learn my lessons,
be prepared to answer her questions, read aloud and attack phonetics and penmanship
with as much zeal as history or math. Despite her methods, or perhaps because
of them, she inspired in me a thirst for knowledge. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">In
eighth grade I had a tremendous history teacher named Mr. Bugle. He so loved
American history that it rubbed off and we kids actually found ourselves
wondering what it would be like to be alive during the time of the American
Revolution. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">In
high school I was fortunate enough to have several excellent teachers: Herb
Moyer in biology (he was cool enough to have his classes plant and maintain an
organic vegetable and flower garden; this was 1972), Mr. Follensbee in history
(again a master at painting historical happenings for us in vivid terms), and
Jay Goldsmith, a writing teacher who taught lessons in observation, photography
and writing discipline that I still apply today. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Hopefully,
fine teachers such as these will continue to come forward, driven not by money
matters but rather by the reward of making a difference in so many lives. In
other words, being a hero to so many. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-15031119311165444112013-05-08T13:52:00.000-07:002013-05-08T13:52:08.935-07:00Foster's Showcase: Impressionist Don Stone<div id="articletextheader">
Don Stone: Revered Impressionist painter/teacher to
display art in N.H. for the first time</div>
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By Laura Pope</div>
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<b>Thursday, April 11, 2013</b></div>
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“Above Norton's Ledge” 30” X 40”</div>
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Don Stone has been so good at painting for so long — his
paintings fetch thousands of dollars — he's considered one of the few remaining
great marine painters of his generation, a group that includes Andrew Wyeth,
Edward Hopper and George Bellows. <br />
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Holding court at his Exeter wintertime home for a rare
newspaper interview, the internationally known modern Impressionist painter,
revered teacher, expert on the Cape Anne School of Painting and a central,
enduring figure at the famous art colony at Monhegan Island — describes and
jokes about the often circuitous and fortunate path his artist life has
taken.</div>
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This life brims with accolades — he's referenced in and is
the subject of dozens of books and national magazines and won more than 75 major
awards; associations — including memberships in the top-drawer National Academy
of Design and the American Watercolor Society and exhibitions, including
locally, the Peabody Essex Museum, the Museum of Fine Arts and The Copely
Society in Boston and is in many private and public collections, including the
permanent collection at Dartmouth. His teaching credits include years teaching
at two prestigious Boston art colleges as well as four decades teaching at the
legendary Maine art colony on Monhegan Island.</div>
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"Afternoon Light"</div>
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For the first time, a selection of his paintings, as well
as those of two painters he has mentored — Stan Moeller of York, Maine and Bruce
Jones of Exeter — will be on display and for sale (through the summer) for the
first time in the Granite State at The Artist Eye Gallery in North Hampton. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="Bold Caps">Early Influences</span></div>
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My mother referred to me as a water rat,” explains the
soft-spoken Stone, the preeminent American Impressionist painter, referencing
his carefree days growing up in Gloucester, Mass. The memory brings a smile to
the face of the octogenarian who reveled in all the boyhood pleasures of living
by the sea in a bustling fishing community.</div>
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“It was a great place to grow up. My grandfather would take
me to the wharf to pick up fish for supper and the big schooners would come in,”
he enthuses. “Eventually my brother and I shared a skiff. My mother called me a
water rat because I would swim in the ocean and in the harbor with the slime and
the oil. I loved it.” </div>
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Many a boy has loved the sea but in Stone's case, that
ardor went beyond boats and swims and the wharves; it ignited an unwavering
passion for a life of painting, a calling that has carried on and transformed
earlier art traditions and passed them on to the next generation of
Impressionists to contemplate and make their own.</div>
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"Amber" 16" X 20"</div>
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“When I was very young I would go down to the school
administration building with my 11 cents and buy a packet of arithmetic paper;
and I would sit and draw and draw and my grandmother would encourage me. I would
copy things out of old magazines and then when I was in the 8th grade my teacher
came to me and said: 'If we let you go to high school what courses would you
like to take?' Not a scholar, the young Don Stone replied: 'I want to be an
artist'. She said: 'Do you promise?' and I said: 'I promise.' </div>
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“I had four years of fine arts at the Gloucester High
School, with no math courses at all, and graduated in 1948.” At the progressive
school, Stone became a student of Howard Curtis (1906-1989), a Gloucester native
and notable marine artist. “After high school, I worked for a sign company
lettering trucks with a distant relative and he told me I was wasting my time
and that I ought to go to art school. So I worked in the freezer in Gloucester,
in 40 below zero, in 1949, and got enough money to go to art school, the Vesper
George School of Art in Boston.” </div>
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“Cooling Down” 24” X 36”</div>
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Days after graduating from college, Stone served in the
Navy as a gunnery yeoman on a destroyer, though in reality he used one of the
gun shacks as his studio and painted portraits of all the officers. “I had a
good racket going,” remarks Stone, with a grin. Out of the service, Stone worked
in newspapers, most prominently as a cartoonist for the Boston Post, until it
folded, and began teaching at both Vesper George and the New England School of
Art. Then a move back home turf — to Rockport, changed everything.</div>
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<span class="Bold Caps">Monhegan Bound</span></div>
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“I met Paul Strisik [1918-1998], who took me to Monhegan
Island in 1957. At the time I was a commercial artist and cartoonist. When I met
him, he says to me: 'Let's go painting.' I didn't know what he was talking
about! I sat on the running board of his car and watched him paint outside and
it was like magic. He was my mentor and really changed my whole life.” Self
deprecatingly, he adds: “Since then, I've just been faking my way along.” </div>
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Strisik and Stone became part of the already established
Cape Ann School of Art, the more than century old group that focused on the
ample marine landscapes and people of the region, which had already attracted
the likes of Fitz Hugh Lane, Marsden Hartley, Childe Hassam, William Morris Hunt
and Winslow Homer. Stone socialized with nine or ten artists of his generation
working in the Cape Ann School and often painted with them, especially in the
late 1960s. </div>
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“Cutting Bait,” a painting that is on display at the
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“I was friends with [Aldro T.] Hibbard [1886 — 1972; who
studied with Frank Benson and Edmond Tarbell], though he didn't paint outside
with anyone, and with Emile Gruppe, John Jacutti and Ken Gore.” Caleb Stone, the
artist's son, has followed his father's path — lives in Gloucester, works as an
Impressionist painter and teacher, and travels extensively. “He does
watercolors, too,” notes Stone.</div>
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Initially, Strisik and Stone went out morning, noon and
night to paint, plein air, or outside, locally in Gloucester and Rockport, then
ventured to Canada and eventually went to Monhegan, the small island, accessible
only by boat, 10 miles off of mid-coast Maine, peopled by hardy fishing families
and, since the mid-1800s, scores of artists including George Bellows, Rockwell
Kent, Edward Hopper and Jamie Wyeth.</div>
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At one point, Stone and his wife, Sarah, lived year round
on the island for several years, a daunting challenge given the isolation,
severe weather and need to provision wisely. They still return each fair weather
season to the house and studio, purchased in 1980, formerly owned by notable
marine and landscape painter Jay Hall Conaway (1893-1970), so Don can paint and
they may greet the many visitors flocking to his studio. </div>
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“Lunchtime” 30”X 36”</div>
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<span class="Bold Caps">Inside the Stone home</span></div>
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A glimpse inside Stone's Exeter home studio instantly
reveals his masterful artistry in landscapes, figures, light, moving air, and
the great outdoors, from marine landscapes, such as “Gull Rock” that is painted
from a bird's eye perspective, to a windswept, light-infused painting of his
wife, Sarah, on a hill, entitled, “Springtime on the Island” to the warm summer
tones in “Amber,” featuring a girl in a blue dress picking lilies in a
meadow.</div>
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While the thought of fisherman and their families slapped
next to artists and their families on tiny Monhegan Island might seem a case of
'strange bedfellows,' Stone sums it up best. The artist considers the fisherman
to be as important and as brave as the American cowboy, on canvas, and states
emphatically his passion for the former. “I've gone out fishing many times and
have a special affinity for the lone dory fisherman.” The marine landscape,
alone, or filled with figures, has always demanded a connection between artist
and those who depend on the sea.</div>
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Painter Don Stone, right, discusses a book of paintings
with fellow artists Bruce Jones, left, and Stan Moeller in Don’s Exeter
studio.</div>
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<span class="Bold Caps">Those Who </span></div>
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<span class="Bold Caps">Came Before</span></div>
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Like Winslow Homer, Stone made a name for himself early in
his career as a watercolor artist. “I made my reputation in the National Academy
as a watercolorist and then was doing large egg tempera paintings and bringing
in big money. I had a waiting list for them. Then all of a sudden, I ended it.
When you do egg tempera paintings everyone thinks: Andrew Wyeth, who I loved and
knew very well and Jamie is a very good friend of ours. I didn't want to be
considered a Wyeth imitator; I don't want to be an imitator of anyone. So 20
years ago, I turned to oil paintings. You gotta change over time, you can't
stand still.”</div>
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As he influences younger painters, Stone was also
influenced by his peers and those artists from an earlier generation such as
Spanish Impressionist painter, Jaoquin Sorroya (1863-1923), and the artist who
influenced Sorroya — Swedish portrait and landscape painter Anders Zorn
(1860-1920). </div>
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“Sorolla was painting in that mud, that dark soup that they
all painted out of and Zorn said to him: paint in your own backyard in sunlight,
and that changed Sorolla's life. I think Sorolla was as good as John Singer
Sargent, one of my other favorites. Sorolla is so special to us that when we
found about a show of his work in Madrid, a show of 102 paintings that had never
been in this group before, we went, and we also managed to see his home, filled
with his paintings. </div>
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Painter Don Stone with many of his works in his Exeter
studio.</div>
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“They're all good painters that s why I don't have a
favorite. I mean Homer kills me. I just love him but I also love Zorn and
Sorroya and Sargent and Valasquez and Rembrandt.”</div>
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<span class="Bold Caps">The Next Generation</span></div>
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Among Stone's many students, two — Stan Moeller of York,
Maine and Bruce Jones of Exeter, have developed and matured as painters in their
own right, and proudly share exhibit space at The Artist Eye in North Hampton.
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“Many times while I am painting, whether out on location or
in my studio, the wise words of Don Stone come to mind,” says Moeller. “I met
Don on his beloved Monhegan Island about 15 years ago, introduced by a mutual
friend who was also a painter/musician. Painting during the day and playing
music with Don (also a musician) and friends in the evening became a summer
ritual, it was a way of life, of loving life as an artist. I was lucky enough to
take Don's final Monhegan workshop (about that time) and over the years I have
learned much more from Don than all my years studying art in college.</div>
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Painter Don Stone with fellow artists Stan Moeller,
left, and Bruce Jones at Don’s Exeter studio.</div>
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“He has many phrases (Don-isms) that stick in my head:
'value does the work, color gets the credit'; 'always keep your eye on the point
of interest, even when you are not painting the point of interest' and many many
more. He told me about must-read books, such as John F. Carlson's “Guide to
Landscape Painting” and “Landscape Painting” by Birge Harrison. Painting
alongside Don en plein air in various New England locations over the years,
information would just come out in normal conversation: he is a great teacher
and a good friend and I love his stories. I owe much of my success to what I
have learned from Don Stone, not only the art, but mentoring on the business end
of the art world.”</div>
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Sculptor-painter, Bruce Jones, who maintains a studio and
gallery in Exeter, recalls: “Years ago, when I got out of art school I started a
business and didn't paint for a while,” recalls Jones. “So I joined some local
art groups and one day as I'm driving down the street, I see these fellows
painting by the side of the street and I stopped to see if they wanted to join
the art group or be part of the show. They directed me to 'the master'
downstream and there was Don. I had no idea who he was. He was doing this
wonderful little painting. He's very kind and said 'I don't really do that' when
I asked him about our group and show, but he did invite me to his studio. That
was more than 15 years ago.”</div>
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Links: </div>
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www.donstone.com</div>
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www.stanmoeller.com</div>
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http://bwjonesart.com</div>
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http://artofthesea.net/DonStone</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Editor's note">
About the author: Laura Pope is a career newspaper and
magazine journalist specializing in the arts, travel and history. She has
traveled to Monhegan Island on several occasions to visit resident artists in
their studios and to take in the exhibits at the Monhegan Museum. </div>
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Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-20985290445734268002013-02-11T06:43:00.002-08:002013-02-14T05:53:06.033-08:00Dody Kolb ~ A Remembrance of Grace & Friendship<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Art Advocate,
Mentor, Gallery Queen, Collector</span></i><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span></i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixdjCkIhBK_SfQrlrT3dtait61he3kTsADzkLdluACXJCTkzFBU9bm3I6-HLhZ03eOIwp1stPDI1YU_xtKvyH_JRdvvm8RNUu6LdVvgjyz9706EXL9zPsBbpLRPVwi779jJA2dfqoAxIYa/s1600/Dodie+Kolb.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixdjCkIhBK_SfQrlrT3dtait61he3kTsADzkLdluACXJCTkzFBU9bm3I6-HLhZ03eOIwp1stPDI1YU_xtKvyH_JRdvvm8RNUu6LdVvgjyz9706EXL9zPsBbpLRPVwi779jJA2dfqoAxIYa/s320/Dodie+Kolb.png" width="320" /></a> <span style="font-size: xx-small;">Dody Kolb at Coolidge Art. Courtesy Photo.</span></div>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">The
light has dimmed since the passing of Doreen ‘Dody’ Kolb last month. Family and
friends, artists and art lovers, especially, will miss her wise ways and extraordinary
friendship.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">She had
many connections in an impressive web of arts organizations and institutions,
including the UNH Art Gallery, the Currier Gallery, Gallery on State Street and
the Coolidge Gallery, where she presided for many years. Patrons of the (now
defunct) Rye Home Center were privy to her hand selected arrays of art, showcases
of color, light and artistry that became the hallmark of her displays.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Many
will recall her outstanding collection of Asian art (I still have the many
notes she sent me on stationery featuring artworks from her Kolb Collection)
and the many incredible shows at the Coolidge Center. Beyond the art itself,
Kolb’s unfailing spirit and sensitivity, her kinship with artists and others
whose eyes linger on the work of artists, will certainly be missed and pushed
forward by the many she touched with advice, encouragement and gusto for
living. Here are a few remembrances from her circle of friends:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Jane Kaufmann, Printmaker,
Ceramic Artist: <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“If you
ever saw her greet people in bathing suits – tourists – coming into the
gallery. She was so gracious, so gracious to everyone.”</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="color: black;">
</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">“As soon as I heard Dody died I went up
to my studio and made a little Dody Kolb angel with straight gray hair, a black
dress and a Susan-Pratt Smith pin right under her chin. Like everyone else, I want
her for my Guardian Angel.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">“I remember when we had the celebration
for Dody at the Rye Art Club and Wendy Turner said Dody kept her alive for one
whole year by buying her paintings. There was a lot that Dody did that no one
ever knew about.”</span></span><br />
<br /></span><br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Lisa Noonis, Painter:</span><script charset="utf-8" defer="" type="text/javascript"><font color="#eeeeee">
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</font></script></span></b><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <br />
<br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Dody
was very dear to me. She was always honest and thoughtful. I remember the first
time I went to see her at The Coolidge Center for the Arts. I had a handful of
paintings with me. She looked at each piece and talked to me about what she
saw. She told me that she had great hopes for me. She said ‘yes’ to me. That is
how our relationship began. I loved being part of the shows at the Coolidge
Center. Dody poured her heart and soul into all of those exhibitions. I believe
that is why they were so incredibly successful. They were always well attended.
She knew all of her artists so well. What a blessing. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Dody
= love.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Frank Corso, Copley Master
painter:<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">“It was with great sadness that I learned
of Dody’s passing. She was an inspiration and a true friend to me for many
years. She discovered my work in the first days of the Home Center in Rye NH
and took me on as an artist there immediately. She began to give me pointers
and direction and focus in my work and also tips on framing and presentation.
Paintings began selling very well and she continued to push me in different
direction. She lined up demos for me and art appreciation nights and got me
mingling with clients. We continued long discussions about art and she taught
me about prints and introduced me to her extensive collection. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“As the years went by we remained
close and she continued to sell my work. She suggested Florida to me as a
market and I then came to Florida 14 years ago on a seasonal basis buying a
house here and did 15 consecutive one man shows with my Gallery. I introduced
Dody to the Gallery and Dody began working there part time and still continued
a high success rate of selling my work. She came to most every show I had and
would call me the next day and critique what she saw. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I give Dody much credit for the success I have enjoyed in
the art business as anyone I have ever met along the way. Her wonderful smile, advice
and friendship will always be terribly missed.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Don Stone, Painter: <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“My
connection with Dody was primarily through the Coolidge Gallery at the mansion.
Dody was always very helpful with her knowledge of art and her willingness to
accommodate our spending the summer on <span class="yshortcuts">Monhegan Island</span>
in Maine. She would store my paintings until the show opened and sometimes even
come to our house to pick them up in the spring. She was a wonderful person and
friend and a valuable part of Portmouth’s art community.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Chuck Hayes, Proprietor of The Artist’s
Eye in North Hampton:<o:p></o:p></span></span></b><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">“My memories of Dody are all very
sweet. She had the ability to make everyone she met feel immediately like you
were special to her, which because you found her to be so nice, intelligent and
perceptive was important to you. She was a good judge of character, which is
probably how she surrounded herself with a lot of good and dedicated people. If
she endeared herself to you and you to her, she became your advocate forever.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I once was complaining to her that
there was no place on the Seacoast that my wife and I could legally enjoy a
bottle of wine by the Ocean. She told me to try the lawn at the Wentworth
Coolidge house, and if anyone had a problem with it I was to say Dody gave me
permission. So we did. What a sweet woman, seems like you can only say it so
many times, but it fits.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Stan Moeller, Painter:<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">“Dody called me before the (I
believe) second season at the Coolidge Center (2002) to see if I would like to
show my work at the Coolidge Center for the Arts, by the Wentworth Coolidge
Mansion, in Portsmouth, the next season. We became close friends almost
immediately and we were friends from then on. I think she first saw my work at
The Artist Eye, in North Hampton, NH, run by our mutual friend, Chuck Hayes. I
have been with Chuck longer than any other gallery.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Dody and I were kindred spirits in
our love of the visual arts; we talked for hours about favorite painters and
how the whole art world seem to work (or not work)...We both LOVED, “The Painted
Word” (1973) by Tom Wolfe, and passed many (art) books and titles back and
forth.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">"She was an amazing help to me, not
only showing my work, but also her ability to connect artist with collector. S</span></span><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">he would call me up in my studio
to tell how much she liked a painting of mine she had just seen, or saw in a
magazine. I could ask her questions about career moves and her advice was
always spot on. Whenever I would discuss the idea about going out on a limb
with an artistic idea or traveling to France or Italy to paint, she would
encourage me (us)...saying, do it now, while you are young enough to enjoy it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">“When I started showing my work in a
prestigious gallery in Naples Florida, she invited Tammy and I to come and stay
with her and her husband, Frank (of 61 years), on Marco Island (near Naples).
We enjoyed their company became even closer as friends. She had a lust for life
and and such optimistic view that was contagious.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Tammy Moeller, Friend and Fan:<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Dody was a role model to me to
continue to stay interested in meeting new people and to stay invested in life
as I grow older. She taught me that friendship knows no age. She was always
upbeat and looking forward to bringing people together; she had a genuine
interest in not only connecting artists with collectors, but nurturing bonds of
lasting relationships between them. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">“Another cool thing about Dody: she
showed both the Augustas, (father/son) both of the Stones (father/son), Sean
Beavers and his wife, Sydney Bella Sparrow, and other generations of artists. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">Dody was also a dynamo: a doer, a
mentor, a pack leader. She was gentle, elegant and fun. An incredible mentor
and supportive friend to many of the Seacoast’s finest artists. We will miss
her so much.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Dustan Knight, Artist:<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I knew
Dody for many years and will always consider her a model of graciousness. I
shall continue to aspire to her warmth, gentleness and genuine essence.
Throughout our friendship I was always touched by her positive response to my
creative efforts and her real interest in my life. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">“She
always asked about my children and remembered their names and ages and seemed
to share a particular sense of humor and wit with my husband. That’s kind of
rare, she really liked him and he isn’t the art scene sort. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Because
of her, I try to meet the spouses and families of my students and learn a bit
about their interests. I think, as artists, our nurturing support network is
vital and it is richer when it includes folks outside our field. I will miss
her and so will my husband.”</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p><span style="color: black;">
</span></o:p></span></span><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Jinny Eshoo, Associate at
Coolidge Center of Art:</span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“Dody was Director at
the Coolidge Center for Art and I was her associate there for seven years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Dody knew her
audience--the artists, the buyers, and the art lovers. Her respect for the
artists ran deep. Plans for the next summer season were firm early in the new
year. Artists were invited, exhibition titles and scope were set, dates in
line. The artists were prepared.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“The mission of the
Wentworth-Coolidge, which included art education, was paramount </span></span><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">to
Dody. She presented a broad spectrum of works, not just for the sophisticated
museum-goer, but also for a steady faithful following who often claimed, ‘We
never miss a show.’ Dody offered visitors opportunities to discuss works,
artists, and life experiences.</span> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">We
never had an artist or buyer complain, and that’s saying something. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“Highly respected for
her breadth of knowledge, her unquestioned integrity, and her </span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">disarming charm, Dody
was as unassuming as she was a committed advocate. One in a million.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span></span><br />Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-66199453471798518342013-01-29T10:05:00.000-08:002013-02-14T06:03:36.250-08:00<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Alpine Gourmet, On and Off the
Mountain<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">By Laura Pope<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A gifted cadre of chefs working in the alpine reaches of Maine,
New Hampshire and Vermont ski resorts offer winter warriors savory options well
beyond ubiquitous pub fare, from Upscale Rustic and European Comfort Food to
Contemporary American cuisine. This selection of fine dining establishments, on
and off the mountain, features a remarkable mix of masters in the kitchen,
including a self-taught chef, two owner/chefs (one is CIA-trained) and three ski
resort chefs, all alumni of the prestigious Chef Apprentice Program at The
Balsams who have gone on to helm dining operations at major ski resort restaurants.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Vermont, On the
Mountain<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Chef Josh Berry,
Solstice at Stowe Mountain Lodge, Stowe, Vermont<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><a href="http://www.stowemountainlodge.com/"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">www.stowemountainlodge.com</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Broadcasting a menu that is rustic, seasonal, contemporary
and American, Solstice at Stowe Mountain Lodge has long been “the big place on
the hill, a family resort where everyone chooses an entrée and lots of side
dishes to pass around, family style,” describes Joshua Berry, executive chef at
the premier dining and inn destination, as well as Hourglass, a lounge setting
offering lighter, gastro-pub cuisine. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The casual, comfortable ambiance at the 110-seat Solstice
presents a signature Neo-Lodge aesthetic that is both traditional and
contemporary and pairs seamlessly <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>with
an imaginative, interactive a la carte menu that allows Chef Berry to not only
lower price points, but “fully engage diners who are wowed by all the options
and flavor possibilities.”</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The “build-it-yourself” menu style generates instant buzz
with patrons who come to Stowe Mountain Lodge,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>full of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>high expectations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A generous offering of starters, soups and
salads starts the menu (the Vermont Goat Cheese Croquets, served with Stewed
Apricots, Kalamata Olives, Watercress and Fennel Seed merit serious
consideration), followed by an impressive Charcuterie of assorted meats,
sausages and terrines, available in a small or large portion, continues with a
staggering nine selections of local Vermont cheeses, served with local raw
honey, stone fruit chutney, toasted walnuts and fresh bread, all sourced from
Vermont farms, creameries and cheese makers.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“We’re one of forty Destination Hotels located all over the
United States, and I’m proud to say that here at Solstice, we have the largest
cheese selection,” boasts Chef Berry, another graduate of The Balsam’s Chef
Apprentice Program who went on to serve as executive chef there for three
years.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Diners at Solstice custom design entrees by first deciding
whether they want one that is braised and sautéed (such as their signature
Truffled Beef Pot Roast) or stone oven roasted (local cod, duck breast, baked
stuffed mountain trout or scallops) or grilled (prime cuts of beef and Shetland
salmon). Once that decision is made, they have the option of adding a flavor enhancements
such as truffle, lobster, foie gras, crab, shrimp or blue cheese and equally
important, and choosing from a wide selection of side dishes, that includes Truffled
Mac and Vermont cheese, baked or Whipped Potatoes to Braised Red Cabbage,
Confit of Wild Mushrooms and Caramelized Root Vegetables.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A Chef’s Signature item, a winter-hearty dish of Spiced Local
Venison Medallions; a Friday-through- Saturday Queen- or King-cut of Slow Roast
Prime Rib of Beef; specials such as a Braised Lamb Shank served with Creamy
Polenta, Gremolata and Braising Jus; Vegan and Pasta items round out the winter
wonderful menu.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“The heart of my culinary style is seasonal and local so
that diners may experience a taste of northern Vermont and New England. I use a
lot of regional ingredients and prepare them with a twist, such as the New
England staple, pot roast, an old recipe I transform when I add the truffles
from Italy.”</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Vermont, Off the
Mountain<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Michael Kloeti,
Michael’s on the Hill, Waterbury, Vermont<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">www. </span></b><a href="http://www.michaelsonthehill.com/"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">michaelsonthehill.com</span></span></b></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~In Waterbury Center, at the rim of snow-blessed Stowe,
Vermont, Chef Michael Kloeti and his wife, Laura, preside over Michael's on the
Hill Restaurant, a hill top restaurant with views of the Green Mountains,
purchased ten years ago, now an acclaimed bastion of European comfort food.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Like the Oxford House Inn and Sugar Hill Inn, the pair’s
1820 farmhouse with barn 85-seat restaurant, and newly renovated lounge</span><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif";">,</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> is often recommended by other
top chefs and lauded by exacting food bloggers. It’s also sanctioned many times
by other more conventional bestowers of greatness: <span class="yshortcuts">Vermont</span>
Restaurateurs, Vermont's First Chef of the Year award, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sante Magazine</i> Restaurant Award, Wine Spectator Award of
Excellence, First Certified Green Restaurant in the <span class="yshortcuts">Green
Mountain State.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span class="yshortcuts"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For Michael, MOTH represents a
coalescence of his Swiss heritage, landscape and culinary roots, follows a top
notch career at several dream destinations – the four star Lespinasse in New
York City, the Lodge at Koele in Lanaii, Hawaii and the St. Regis Hotel in
Manhattan – and ultimately, offered an escape hatch from the corporate bottom
line ethos that dominates many urban food empires.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span class="yshortcuts"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“To me, winter is all about eating more
and comfort foods and nothing is more comforting than food you can serve in a
bowl. I make a lamb stew, served with locally-made Nitty Gritty polenta that
has a vein of red wine in it, like beef bourguignon. Winter food is not
necessarily heavy, it can be very refreshing. I can still remember the venison
stew my mother made with red wine braised cabbage and spaetzle.” says the chef,
who recently completed another guest stint aboard Holland America Cruise lines
on an Asian/Pacific journey.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span class="yshortcuts"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Diners camp out for a savored experience in
one of the four dining rooms: The Porch with its wall of windows, the Barn with
its exposed frames and wood prints from Switzerland, the Bar or the Trout Room.
I would describe it as casual, but then the tables wear nice table cloths.”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span class="yshortcuts"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY9Qy4ScAGnG1OtMtAPc4WwGGrKuNYrOaeZH5KB3aVQZpMQT1qNixNxnjtyRr5L_3NxayBv82rAgjMhjmyu5oBQrgn1G1it6K_rhDCTbbbg1O6U7tqNJK8zPMU8xR20uR6kexWzOVfxNaG/s1600/Chef+Michael+Kloeti+plating+1183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY9Qy4ScAGnG1OtMtAPc4WwGGrKuNYrOaeZH5KB3aVQZpMQT1qNixNxnjtyRr5L_3NxayBv82rAgjMhjmyu5oBQrgn1G1it6K_rhDCTbbbg1O6U7tqNJK8zPMU8xR20uR6kexWzOVfxNaG/s320/Chef+Michael+Kloeti+plating+1183.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span class="yshortcuts"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span class="yshortcuts"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Growing up on a farm, Michael
absorbed a local, fresh, sustainable and seasonal way of gathering and
preparing food he still abides. “It’s hard for me and the trout farmer to know
just how many fish he has so it will come off the menu as the supply dwindles.”
Venison was recently replaced with a Lamb Navarin dish on the entrée menu which
also includes a skillet chicken, beef tenderloin, Maplewood smoked pork loin,
an herb butter poached Maine lobster, a gnocchi dish and roast Atlantic char.
Menus may change more than once in a season. “I run this place by our own rules
and policies, so I choose to pay more for local provisions. It has more to do
with high chef and customer satisfaction than the numbers.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Maine, On the
Mountain <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Featuring:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Executive Chef Chad Davidowicz, Sunday River
Ski Area & Resort, Newry, Maine <span style="color: #f3f3f3;">www.sundayriver.com<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As executive chef of several eateries serving skiers a
variety of cuisine during their time on the eight peaks at Sunday River Ski
Area & Resort in Newry, Chad Davidowicz, with his delegation of managers
and assistants, operate three daytime cafeterias, five restaurants at two slope
side grand resort hotels, (the Grand Summit and Jordan Grand) plus a popular
nightspot called The Foggy Goggle at Southridge. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The offerings vary, from family friendly cuisine at Grand
Summit’s Legends Restaurant and Moonstruck Café and the upscale pub food at
Jordan Grand’s Sliders to the on-the-go, lunchtime cafeteria buffets for skiers
eager to refuel. For those seeking fine dining, Chef Davidowicz recommends the
100-seat restaurant, Dining at the Peak, “a place on top of the mountain, on
top of the world.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Normally reserved for winter-time Saturday evenings
beginning in mid-December to coincide with Winter Fest, Dining at the Peak patrons
“take the gondola ride up to the summit of North Peak where they’re greeted
with a blanket and met at the door with a glass of champagne, followed by a
four-course, sit-down dinner. During the day, Peak is a bustling skiers’
cafeteria, but on special days we transform it into a restaurant so that
someone who had chowder or chili for lunch may return at night for finer
dining.” </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Last winter, the Peak’s four-courses included a soup course
of Truffled Cream of Mushroom Soup with Duck Confit garnish as well as Lobster
Bisque; artfully composed Baby Spinach and Gathered Greens salads; varied
entrees such as Veal Chop Oscar, Seared Free Range Chicken Breast, Tenderloin,
Seared Diver Scallops, and Honey Poached Gnocchi and sweet finishes of a
classic Crème Brulee with sugared berries and a Chambourd Ganache
Cheesecake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I tend to lean toward the French influence in the dishes I
create or cook, but I’m also a huge fan of Italian and South West cuisines,”
shares Davidowicz, who oversees other wildly popular culinary happenings --
Moonlight Dinners in summer, staged during full moon cycles, featuring live
music and buffet style service. “At the Peak, we try to create an atmosphere
that tells patrons ‘everything was made just for you.’”</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This winter, Peak dinners are scheduled for special times, such
as Winter Fest, New Year’s, and at on other occasions, with overarching themes
such as Wine Dinners or a dinner featuring French cuisine.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“We’re always looking to satisfy our customer base, and to
that end we alter and add things, such as adding a tasting menu at the Jordan
Grand,” says the Balsam’s Chef Apprentice Program graduate who<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>stayed on at the famed resort destination as
sous chef before taking a position at Sunday River, first as executive sous
chef and four years ago, as executive chef. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Maine, Off the
Mountain<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Chef Jonathan
Spak, Oxford House Inn, Fryeburg, Maine<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><a href="http://www.oxfordhouseinn.com/"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">www.oxfordhouseinn.com</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Since 2007, Chef Jonathan Spak and his wife, Natalie, have
welcomed guests at The Oxford House Inn in Fryeburg, Maine, right next door to
North Conway, NH and the ski-centric Mt. Washington Valley, as innkeepers of
their four guestroom inn and 70-seat restaurant, both highly praised by the
likes of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Downeast</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yankee</i> magazines. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A Connecticut native, Jonathan trained at the Culinary
Institute flagship campus at Hyde Park, NY, and more than a decade later left a
perfectly fine job at a conference center in West Cornwall, Conn., after a
vacation in North Conway, to preside over the Oxford House Inn, a Mission Style
house built in 1913 by famed architect John Calvin Stevens. </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Describing his culinary sweet spot as Contemporary American,
the one-time apprentice with CIA-trained French chef, Gerard Coyac at Le
Marmiton (Little Kitchen Boy) in the northern reaches of the Constitution
State, explains: “I draw on traditional flavors and make them my own by
breaking them down or reinventing the components.” Diners will find a hybrid
menu melding the Inn’s pub and dining room offerings, from smaller bistro
dishes to the more robust fine dining entrees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Four separate dining rooms set the alpine tone– a fireplace
and a large bay window dominate the Front Parlor; the Middle Room features a
more formal atmosphere; three walls of windows on the Back Porch let in
sweeping views of the eastern edge of the White Mountains (Kearsarge, Black
Cap, Bald Face and the Twins) and lastly, Jonathan’s Pub beckons with an
entirely distinct atmosphere all its own. </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Patrons flock to sample Jonathan’s Bangs Island mussel dish
and local brews on Thursday evenings in the darker months. “It’s called Pint
and a Pound: <span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">You get a
pint of beer, currently Geary's Pale Ale or Moat Mountain Brown, crafted in
North Conway, on tap, or a glass of wine or bottled beer with a pound of
mussels or clams in one of five different preparations. Currently we offer
yellow curry with potatoes, apples, raisins and coconut milk; pesto, roasted
tomato, pine nut & chardonnay; chorizo, sweet potato, roasted corn and
Corona; smoked bacon, English pea, cream and sage and our traditional with
garlic, c</span>hardonnay, pepper flakes and butter. <span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This weekly special has taken a life of its own.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A sampling of the winter menu (entrees include braised lamb
shank, a cider-brined pork tenderloin, cornmeal crusted rainbow trout and a
grilled filet mignon) and specials (a braised beef short rib and potato tart
with roast root vegetables and rosemary gratin) reveal an inventive
orchestration of cooking technique and seasonal provisions. </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Never forgetting the importance of a sweet finish, Spak
touts the caramel cheese cake with Grand Marnier citrus salad. “We use at least
six different citruses, no lemon or lime, in the salad and a slightly
thickened, uncooked Grand Marnier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~</span></div>
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">New Hampshire, On the
Mountain<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Chef Matthew
Holland, Seasons Restaurant, Mountain Club on Loon Resort & Spa, Lincoln,
NH <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<a href="http://www.mtnclub.com/"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">www.mtnclub.com</span></span></b></a></div>
<br />
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On the heels of a $9 million renovation at the Mountain Club
on Loon Mountain Resort & Spa in Lincoln, Chef Matthew Holland launches
Seasons Restaurant, formerly Rachel’s Restaurant, at Christmas for fine dining dinner
service, featuring the very best New England or “indigenous” cuisine tapping
local/sustainable food sources.</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“When I think of winter fare, I think of root vegetables,
onions, seafood such as lobster and scallops which are at their very best this
time of year, braised items, pork and heartier cuts of beef,” says the chef
from Twin Mountain who worked at his family’s restaurant before signing on, at
16, at the Mt. Washington Hotel to work with Chef Val Fortin (now the executive
chef at the Sugar Hill Inn) where he attained the position of executive sous
chef. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He later completed a chef apprenticeship
at the Balsam’s Grand Resort’s prestigious program, where he worked as the
executive pastry chef and also worked as executive chef at Bonta, in Hampton,
NH. </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At Seasons, Chef Matthew’s proffers a refined dining
experience, “to give our patrons more options. We’ll have linens on the tables,
but we won’t be fussy or pretentious. We also have the flexibility of creating
cuisine for two dining venues. Black Diamond Bar & Grille at the Mountain
Club features more casual surroundings and fare, and with a fantastic group of
culinarians in the kitchen, we strive to serve great, consistent food at a
great value, from casual to more upscale.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Seasons at the Mountain Club on Loon features regional New
England cuisine “focusing on the finest of seasonal, local and sustainable
ingredients found in our fantastic soups, stews, breads, braised items, grains
and produce so prominent in our fall and early winter harvests. Our focus at
Seasons allows diners a more formal dining option with respect to the menu
items and top-notch service, but executed in a casual, relaxed atmosphere.”</span></div>
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">New Hampshire, Off
the Mountain<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Chef Val Fortin,
Sugar Hill Inn, Sugar Hill, NH<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><a href="http://www.sugarhillinn.com/"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">www.sugarhillinn.com</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></b></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~The comfortable, sophisticated guest rooms and cottages at
the Sugar Hill Inn, taken together with its Euro-upscale 25-seat dining room
have earned this oasis in New Hampshire’s White Mountains impressive accolades:
multiple DiRoNA<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Achievement of
Distinction in Dining awards; a Distinguished Inn of North America recognition
from Select Registry and a Wine Spectator<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Award of Excellence.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Executive Chef and New Hampshire native, Val Fortin, joined
owner Steve Allen’s team in 2006 when Allen purchased the inn minutes away from
Cannon Mountain, Bretton Woods and Attitash, and began restorations. <span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
self-taught chef worked his way up from dishwasher to chef, including a long
stint at the Mount Washington Hotel and as chef in private hotels and clubs in
Florida and Cape Cod.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fortin ’s passion
for Creative Cuisine, a fusion of international flavors (think herbed spaetzle,
Italian bread soup), as well as his “made from scratch” credo and adherence to
local and sustainable food philosophies, surfaces all over the four course prix
fixe winter menu.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“The food here
tends to be inventive, creative, passionate and comforting. For those diners
who are a little more adventurous you may even see a little molecular
gastronomy on the menu.” He forages for local food sources at the co-op in
Littleton and works with local farmers including the Walker Hill Farm in
Lisbon, where he gets all his heirloom tomatoes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Dinner guests may
decide on one of Val’s signature dishes, the horseradish crusted filet mignon
of beef tenderloin set atop a scallion and fresh herb potato cake served with a
parsley lemon butter and red wine braised shallots or the red wine slow braised
beef short ribs with smashed winter root vegetables and fingerling potatoes
served with a sauce from it’s own braising liquid. His trio of soups deliver of
winter’s essence: a winter squash medley, a broccoli and gruyere combo, almost
a fondue, and a heaven-scented potage of mushroom and truffle.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“The pan seared
quail breast, served medium rare, and the crispy leg, served with a house made
wild mushroom ravioli, crisp prosciutto and wild mushroom and truffle broth is
a great beginning to your dining experience. The wild mushroom and truffle
broth is served table side so as to get the full aroma of the broth. The
tasting of duck is an inn favorite with pan seared duck breast, confit of leg
and foie gras ravioli served with whipped gingered sweet potato, French
haricots verts, baby white turnips and a lingonberry gastrique.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trout, lamb and truffle béchamel mac and
cheese dishes round out the entrée offerings.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Desserts are
homemade, decadent, beautifully presented. If the homemade ice creams, mini
pistachio and pecan whoopie pie (with a orange and <span class="yshortcuts">Vermont</span>
goat cheese filling finished with a salted caramel sauce) or a petite German
chocolate cake scented with a touch of espresso (finished with a homemade
vanilla bean ice cream and a Tuckerman’s ale chocolate sauce) doesn’t quite fit
the bill, then perhaps Val’s handmade bittersweet chocolate and pomegranate
laced truffle will.~<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">On the Mountain Alpine Chefs
in this post were profiled in the December issue of Northeast Flavor Magazine;
profiles of Alpine Chefs Off the Mountain were written as a Web Extra for
Northeast Flavor Magazine. Both articles have been combined here by the writer.</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<br />
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-4413543798695341082012-11-16T08:01:00.000-08:002012-11-16T08:01:05.723-08:00Project Discovery
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Project Discovery a Great Adventure
in 1981</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Published
Monday, June 17, 2002 in The Public Garden; the Portsmouth Herald<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: white;">By
Laura Pope<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: white;">Twenty-one years ago Indiana Jones exploded into mainstream
consciousness in "Raiders of the Lost Ark." Swashbuckling, fearless
and undefeated in his quest to retrieve treasures, the whip-carrying,
hat-wearing Indy added the archaeologist to our growing pantheon of male heroes
that already included pirates, soldiers and statesmen. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: white;">This was the same summer - in 1981 - that I participated in
Project Discovery, an educational public excavation of an archaeological site
behind the Mary Rider-Wood House at Strawbery Banke Museum. More than 120
regular citizens, ranging from preteens to retirees, and divided almost equally
between the sexes, signed up for the summer-long course, led by me and
Harvard-trained archaeologist Gray Gratham.</span> </span></div>
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"></span> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: white;">The program, a brainchild of museum staffer Bruce Follansbee and
underwritten by state grants, offered everyday people a chance to participate
in a process-driven retrieval of artifacts right on museum grounds. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: white;">What attracted most of them to the program was the idea that one
didn’t need an academic degree to actually do the excavating, cataloguing,
photography, map-making or research. It was a project that empowered and
educated, at the same time adding to the already impressive archaeological
archive on display and in storage at the Jones House exhibit. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: white;">Funny how the name of the museum’s archaeology exhibit house
matched that of the movie-screen hero. Completely coincidental was the timing
of our dig and the visage of Indiana Jones, but this confluence made for
overflow crowds and national media coverage of this banner program in
Portsmouth’s 10-acre waterfront museum. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: white;">Another extensive dig, at the Follett site, located right next to
the Jones House, to examine Puddle Dock wharf remnants, also took place at the
museum over the course of that summer, though this one was undertaken by three
professionals - Faith Harrington, Elisa Jorgensen and Aileen Agnew. A third dig
also began that season - a salvage dig at the site on Deer Street where the
Sheraton now stands. This one turned out to be one of the most fruitful,
complete and intact historic archaeological sites in New England in terms of
ceramic and glass finds. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: white;">As we taught classes in excavating, identifying, cataloguing and
dating a wide variety of artifacts - from shards of ceramic dishes, cups, wine
bottles, pipe stems to bone refuse and the like - interest in the dig and its
mission took on a life of its own. Every major and minor television station
took turns interviewing students and leaders at both digs; The Associated Press
did a story that was picked up across the nation, as we found out from our
museum president when he returned from a conference on the West Coast; and
visits to the museum rocketed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: white;">Though we did not look anything like the movie hero, we were
dirt-covered, trowel-packing truthseekers, out to find evidence, a few
centimeters at a time, about the families that resided at the Rider-Wood House.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: white;">We did unearth a leather tanning vat out back, and the old outdoor
privy did much to verify diets and household wares of residents over time. We
glued pots together, made careful lists of our finds and learned to appreciate
history and how it is compiled. We did much to quell the snob factor of
academia by throwing open the door of the profession to the nontraditional
student, the amateur. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: white;">Teachers signed up, and so did many a father and son, daughter and
mother. Some signed on because they had the summer off and didn’t want to
travel. Others had always wanted to try archaeology; a few were earning
credits; many didn’t know what to expect. An analysis and interpretation
program followed the excavations in the spring of 1982, and for a few of the
students, archaeology became a second profession. </span></span></div>
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"></span> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: white;">When funds for these educational programs dried up - and they did
with amazing speed in 1982 - several of the amateurs we had trained took over
the laboratory duties. Most all the archaeologists at the museum, a record
number in fact, fled to other digs, positions or professions. Still, it was one
of those rare times when an innovative idea surfaced, found funding and
followed through with incredible results. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: white;">Post Script: Following excavations and lab work, the Mary Ryder
Wood House underwent extensive renovations, re-opening as an exhibit house at
Strawbery Banke Museum, including a select display of artifacts unearthed by
Project Discovery participants.</span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-68633597402221045692012-10-22T10:14:00.001-07:002012-10-22T10:14:33.065-07:00Behind the Lens<strong>Bradley John Huckins, Photographer</strong><br />
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World traveler who inherited his father's eye for photography.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmendLoDChA8hL98Nd9fPaFLtcmZH4Ppcg2MDRPVbnDIrs9G7WbY3cpSJh7CIY92lpjpbjkT7gwgmQfKsY7vaK3utqCPscsoSKvjU99Sm_YyWNdGpPfY1_ea4s6PfwHux76QaczuQLSLE3/s1600/khafra.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmendLoDChA8hL98Nd9fPaFLtcmZH4Ppcg2MDRPVbnDIrs9G7WbY3cpSJh7CIY92lpjpbjkT7gwgmQfKsY7vaK3utqCPscsoSKvjU99Sm_YyWNdGpPfY1_ea4s6PfwHux76QaczuQLSLE3/s320/khafra.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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A photo taken during one of his many visits to the Middle East, this of the middle pyramid at Giza, called Khafra (also known as Khafre or Chephren). Distinguished by its remaining cap, it is the second largest pyramid at Giza built by pharoah Khafra, who is also credited with building the Sphinx. Some say the face of the Sphinx is that of Khafra.<br />
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Bradley lived for a while at Plum Island, the barrier island off the coast of Newbury, Newburyport and Rowley. Winters could be savage and the island was often cut off from the mainland. Depicted here is one of the many boardwalks at the National Reserve, in full capture of falling snow.</div>
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You can almost see your breath in this photo, taken after a winter storm with waves at full crash mode. Plum Island severely erodes during major blizzards and hurricanes and of late, houses have been taken by the sea.</div>
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A timeless looking photograph of Plum Island in flood stage. This picture says it all.</div>
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This photograph of a rather agile Bradley was taken at Bow Lake by his father. </div>
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Assorted photos of Bradley John Huckins. Top is Sepia tone of DJ Bradley Jay at WBCN, The Rock of Boston; Bradley spins at River Rave; Bradley at House of Blues; Bradley, how radio talk show host at WBZ and Jay Talking.</div>
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To learn more about Brad, go to: <a href="http://unhmagazine.unh.edu/f12/bradley_huckins.html">http://unhmagazine.unh.edu/f12/bradley_huckins.html</a> to read an article I penned about his long career in music.</div>
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Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-29500852165107380682012-09-05T10:17:00.001-07:002012-09-05T11:29:04.020-07:00Remembering Iconoclast Jay Smith<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background1;">Originally published Monday, September 9, 2002
Public Garden column, Portsmouth, NH Herald<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-themecolor: background1;">Jay Smith: Bon Vivant & Cultural
Catalyst <o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background1;">I will never forget the sight. More than 100 people
dressed in formal evening attire milled around the bar and moved sluggishly on
the dance floor in the ballroom of the Islington Street design firm, now
closed. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background1;">Helium-filled balloons with long ribbon tails
caressed the ceiling. Tuxedoed bartenders served drinks. The swish of satin and
crinoline gowns filled the air. Ben Baldwin and his band were trying to coax
the swank crowd into steady dancing with up tempo tunes. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background1;">Despite all the fixings, the expansive guest list
(that also included a guest psychic) and the elegant atmosphere, this holiday
party lacked spirit. Most seemed uncomfortable in deluxe duds and too-tight
shoes with slippery soles. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background1;">And then in walks Jay Smith with an entourage. The
perennially dressed down Jay and his friends had come from a Button Factory art
exhibition, had gotten wind of this more fancy pants affair just down the road
and decided: Why Not? <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background1;">Ever the joyous gate crasher, Jay did not bat an
eyelash when it came to pursuing fun. Rather, he rallied the party at large and
soon, those swathed in cocktail attire were boogying next to those in flannel,
jeans and sneakers. Even the hostess recognized a party savior when she saw one
and instead of asking him how he got in, let him work his magic. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background1;">I, like many in the Seacoast, hold many memories
about Jay Smith. Most of mine involve Jay at an event of some sort, mixing it
up with the proletariat and the polished, the artist and the banker, the
musician and the mayor. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background1;">The first time I saw Jay was at one of the first
Market Square Days. It was raining (as usual), and Jay with a group of friends
dashed across Congress Street to stop in at the Kearsarge Hotel for a beverage.
He was laughing and talking, leading the uninitiated to an out-of-the-way nook.
<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid5VMhEpTr49I5dIEzA1KfiXH8r6hqnXcoY6acDKtbn0FehhUeE5Csvqxcsfs9kGcosUZoPa50ZgF5Jq8vs8-SKIRInsdhclzFDeiY8TjYGQamwyfz6m9UIXS17xV-1zjRAa_fZXzUcL6l/s1600/campaign3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid5VMhEpTr49I5dIEzA1KfiXH8r6hqnXcoY6acDKtbn0FehhUeE5Csvqxcsfs9kGcosUZoPa50ZgF5Jq8vs8-SKIRInsdhclzFDeiY8TjYGQamwyfz6m9UIXS17xV-1zjRAa_fZXzUcL6l/s320/campaign3.jpg" width="222" /></a><span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background1;">Most times, Jay could be found at the Press Room.
Tall, dimpled, with chiseled features and a keen mind, this bon vivant liked
nothing more than introducing people to one another. At the bar one wintry
afternoon, Jay sat between me and Katie Paine, ignited a rousing conversation
about the Pease Development Board and then made introductions all around. If
only that nude painting above the main bar could re-play some of the brilliant
discussions Jay generated! <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background1;">His most magnificent role – beyond his mostly
hidden penchant for institutional and personal generosity, was as cultural
catalyst. He was a mover and shaker in the truest sense – connecting all the
dots of people from different spheres of his own life into a woven work
comprised of an extended, stronger community. The Press Room was his salon,
where music, food and drink pulled in a soupcon of thinkers, drinkers, game
players, diners, gossips, music makers, music lovers and creative sorts of
every stripe. Conversations, arguments, business deals and ideas flowed freely.
<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background1;">As an arts reporter I discovered quite by accident
Jay’s philanthropic support of the Music Hall. Less accidental were first hand
reports about Jay helping people finance the purchase of homes. Or paying staff
out of his own pocket when times were lean. Selfless generosity was just
another element of a character profile that included those of an aesthete with
a unbridled passion for music. I ran into Jay at post-Telluride parties, at
Katie Paine’s grand fetes at the farm, on the street and at various house
parties all over the Seacoast. The last time I saw him at Katie’s, he was
driving a red, vintage sports car and accepting the attentions of several
females gathering in the Great Room. I managed to coerce him onto the dance
floor for a spin to the sounds of the Curt Bessette Band. Jay Smith left the
most vivid impression with me in February 2001 at the post-funeral gathering
upstairs at the Press Room for musician, Grieg Westley. I knew Jay was musical
and heard from Harvey Reid how he and Jay cut a track on his Circles CD, with
Jay on bodhran late one evening at the Daniel Street music room. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background1;">Still, that did not prepare me, or those gathered
in honor of Grieg, for Jay’s spontaneous burst of song on the stage. Singing
clearly, sweetly, boldly, and without accompaniment, Jay Smith sang his heart
out in an old ditty that brought Grieg’s spirit forcefully forward. There were
few dry eyes. I turned to Kent Allyn, who like me, was shaking his head in
wonder at the angel singing his song before us. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span>Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-71623660733707281462012-07-09T07:53:00.001-07:002012-07-09T07:53:53.949-07:00Good Medicine article<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2TaX93D3-i3EXJ1jSEAIXpzvP6F0w6PkG0S7Df_TcGbowmvf-FTanddtvLYXC54aqGPHm-IPef7W0RcUq6XU3uw5hNVTOgsTS1obUe7dUoA0rVEWdCc5AT8jdN6OhI-kanvp6yYP9-mVU/s1600/NEF_SOS+farm_Page_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2TaX93D3-i3EXJ1jSEAIXpzvP6F0w6PkG0S7Df_TcGbowmvf-FTanddtvLYXC54aqGPHm-IPef7W0RcUq6XU3uw5hNVTOgsTS1obUe7dUoA0rVEWdCc5AT8jdN6OhI-kanvp6yYP9-mVU/s320/NEF_SOS+farm_Page_1.jpg" width="246" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Appeared in Summer 2012 Northeast Flavor, New England's Food & Wine magazine<br />
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</h2>
<h2>
Good Medicine</h2>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Integrating the healing power of
organic farming at Serving Ourselves Farm with renewal of life skills at
Boston’s Long Island Homeless Shelter <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Laura Pope<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Working at
the farm, tending the gardens, is particularly suited to recovery. It’s a place
to quiet the mind, meditate and focus on the tasks at hand. Growing food is a
very clear activity; it’s not complex in the way a lot of the world is. The sea
breeze makes it a perfect environment to work outdoors.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So says
Erica La Fountain, farm manager at the four-acre, certified organic<s> </s>Serving
Ourselves Farm at Long Island Shelter in Boston Harbor, about the very real
positives of aligning the organic farm ethic with social change. The farm provides
food to the homeless, trains homeless individuals in a wide variety of skills,
attracts volunteers, offers a sanctuary to troubled youth while also serving
the community at large. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Each growing
season, the farm yields 25,000 pounds of fresh organic food—vegetables, fruits
and herbs, eggs and honey – that helps to provide 2,000 meals each day for 800 homeless
persons at the Long Island and Woods-Mullen shelters. Some of that bounty also
lands in local restaurants – including the swank Hamersley’s Bistro, Ashmont
Grill, Tavolo and Barbara Lynch Gruppo, while 20 percent goes on display for
sale at farmers’ markets in Boston.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The brainchild
of Boston Mayor Tom Menino, Serving Ourselves Farm was founded as a vocational
training program in 1996, as part of the Boston Public Heath Commission’s
Homeless Services Bureau. The farm also partners with the </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">City’s
Office of Jobs and Community Services, which funds Youth Options Unlimited,
YOU, a training and employment program for court-involved youth. For seven
weeks each summer, a large group of youth from YOU arrives at the farm to lend
helping hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“There are
so many different aspects of work and training here,” explains La Fountain, who
brings a background in social service, organic and community farming to SOF.
“There’s the seeding, tending and harvesting, then the Culinary Arts Program in
the shelter kitchen where trainees learn to prepare meals, as well as methods
to preserve harvest foods such as pickling and drying herbs,” she adds. “We
also maintain an apiary for the honey and to help pollinate the plants, and
tend our free range laying hens. Our adult trainees become mentors to our youth
participants.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The farm is one
component </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">of the Serving Ourselves Program (SOS), an integrated,
holistic program which focuses on developing basic work and life skills, while
providing services to homeless individuals. Each season, the farm employs as
many as six client workers, who receive shelter, meals, case management,
education services, health services, and counseling while in the program. After
graduation from the program, each client worker is helped with finding work and
housing. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqL2cQvnREHtS95oCnCG1umcBe8xPjazdeJ6icT9kv789o1wg5Yb2ah5p6Qwer1AbZaGE5xDuiKmZptiprtz1NRC3WgP775s1jRn8mzdDj1Ns0PUHtGjkYJNv__BMygJzUx3LJoJkK-FOZ/s1600/NEF_SOS+farm_Page_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqL2cQvnREHtS95oCnCG1umcBe8xPjazdeJ6icT9kv789o1wg5Yb2ah5p6Qwer1AbZaGE5xDuiKmZptiprtz1NRC3WgP775s1jRn8mzdDj1Ns0PUHtGjkYJNv__BMygJzUx3LJoJkK-FOZ/s320/NEF_SOS+farm_Page_3.jpg" width="246" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In addition to the training programs, </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">the SOF utilizes the Community
Supported Agriculture, or CSA model. T</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">hose who purchase
farm shares in CSA are given a reusable bag of fresh produce every week
throughout the growing season, a delectable stash gathered by trainees and
volunteers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“We
emphasize kitchen staples in our plantings – potatoes, tomatoes, greens,
onions, carrots and summer squash,” says La Fountain. “Then we plant 30 other
vegetables in smaller quantities for our culinary arts program, farmers’
markets and the CSA, such as garlic, radishes, leeks, beans, broccoli, turnip,
kale, beets, scallions, cherry tomatoes and eggplant.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Like any truly sustainable and successful program, collaboration
and inclusion are key factors. “The Boston Public Health Commission has a
unique public/private partnership with the Friends of Boston’s Homeless, a non-profit charged with raising funds for our program. They recently hosted our first Celebrity Harvest Dinner. Each celebrity chef prepared a course for more than 100 diners, raising $25,000.<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ultimately, results are what make
the Farm such a remarkable tool in transforming lives.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Our
trainees interface with all the visitors and volunteers at the farm. They share
knowledge with others about their tasks, they answer questions, they teach.
We’ve had trainees go on to jobs directly tied to farm skills – in the florist
business or in landscaping. A lot of them lose weight and cook better meals as
a consequence of working here. In the end, our great success rate in job
placement comes from transferable skills learned here: accountability,
responsibility, respect. Serving Ourselves Farm is all about a great physical
and mental recovery.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-56293043484500831032012-06-28T11:37:00.000-07:002012-07-01T13:45:09.175-07:00<br />
<h4>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">The Bridge
that Opened Downtown<o:p></o:p></span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Written in
August 2002 for The Public Garden, my bi-weekly column in the Portsmouth Herald<o:p></o:p></span></h4>
<span style="color: black;"><strong>
</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">It’s hard to equate in modern terms the excitement
generated in Portsmouth and Kittery on Aug. 17, 1923. Though newspaper
clippings at the time greatly detailed the big event - the opening of the
Memorial Bridge - not even the most optimistic politician or city planner could
have imagined the positive impact the new bridge would have on the economy and
growth of the city. <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Former Portsmouth Mayor Eileen Foley - who at age 5
was selected to cut the silk ribbon, at the middle of the new bridge, signaling
its opening - sums it up this way: "The opening of the bridge was really
the opening of downtown Portsmouth." <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">The new $2 million drawbridge connected Portsmouth
and Kittery, Maine, at a crucial downtown crossing point, eliminating the need
for Portsmouth-side shipyard workers to catch the ferry to the PNSY at the coal
company (now the salt pile) on upper Market Street. <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">A dilapidated toll bridge maintained by the Boston
& Maine Railroad - crossing near where the Sarah M. Long Bridge, or Middle
Bridge, now stands - became obsolete. Pedestrian sidewalks along the new bridge
made it possible to walk from Portsmouth to Kittery. <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Several businesses opened when the bridge did,
including The Rosa Restaurant on State Street and John’s Barber Shop on Daniel
Street. The surge in pedestrian and auto traffic demanded more services, and so
sprang a hybrid downtown community composed of businesses and residences. <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">The carefully engineered Memorial Bridge also
adapted to fierce river currents and tides. The middle of the span, powered by
two 100-horsepower motors, could be raised to a maximum 180 feet, allowing
lofty ships to do business upriver. <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">This feat was tested for the first time in February
1924, when the four-masted Helen B. Gring of Boston passed through with several
feet to spare. It was estimated that as many as 15,000 cars would cross the
bridge each day for the city’s tercentenary celebration a few weeks after the
bridge opened. <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">The idea to build the three-span cable drawbridge
began in 1917 by both New Hampshire and Maine legislators. The cost of building
this top-of-the-line span was shared in equal parts by the states of New
Hampshire and Maine and the U.S. government. At the time, there were only two
other bridges of its kind - in Portland, Ore., and Jacksonville, Fla. <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">In 1920, contractors in Boston were selected to
build the piers and abutments for the bridge. The piers were positioned in
bedrock, at some points going as deep as 82 feet below the high-water mark.
These necessary foundations required 14,000 barrels of cement, 6,000 tons of
sand and 12,000 tons of gravel. Several homes were torn down to make way for
approaches to the bridge. By December 1922, the last of the three metal spans -
each of which measured 300 feet - was floated into place by the American Bridge
Company. <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">In late August of the following year, opening
ceremonies attracted more than 5,000 people, gathered at either end of the
bridge. Several dignitaries, including Gov. Brown of New Hampshire and Gov.
Baxter of Maine, were in attendance. <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">An old clipping reads: "The governors met at
the boundary line of the middle span and shook hands. There was the tooting of
auto horns; boats in the river blew their whistles." Then little Helen
"Eileen" Dondero, later Foley, cut the pink silk ribbon, inaugurating
the bridge into service. <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">"I don’t really know why it was me cutting the
ribbon that day," said Foley from her Portsmouth home. "My father,
Charles Dondero, worked at the Internal Revenue and my mother was at home with
us girls. This was years and years before she became Portsmouth’s first female
mayor. I do remember wearing a crepe de chine dress with tatting and that a
woman fetched me from my mother at the Daniel Street side of the bridge and
brought me to where the ribbon was to be cut. I also remember that after
cutting the ribbon Governor Baxter held me in his arms." <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Later, the delegation would enjoy a lobster dinner
in celebration. <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Foley added that a collection of materials from
opening day, including the ribbon she cut and relevant newspaper articles, was
framed, which years later she gave to Sen. Tom McIntyre in Washington, D.C., to
bolster his research on ownership of the bridge. <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">"When he lost his election, his office was
cleaned out," she continued, "and that framed piece with all of the
bits about the bridge were lost." <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Another news clipping reporting the opening reads:
"Traffic was opened and immediately a pandemonium broke forth and an
avalanche of traffic moved in both directions. Boys on bikes (from both sides
of the bridge) rushed forward to see who would be the first to reach the
opposite shore." <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">
</span></strong><br />
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong>Portsmouth’s two other bridges would come much
later. The Sarah M. Long Bridge opened in November 1940, and the $50 million
six-lane Interstate 95 bridge opened in 1972. </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: background2;"><strong>Postscript: The Memorial Bridge was dismantled in the winter of 2011-12 and will be replaced with another, more modern bridge.</strong></span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFhyphenhyphenC767px4K98KZNad1Ois5hCopd0IHkT42n8zih8rLEIU5tm6YZg2zVLkh_X6ngkV-Qr6UldK7tl_4JhnzDppDGPs32LiZP3vI17MGvkDiRJTHrvxdRKpp-e1EDm7nWO2V2A8TzMGQM/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFhyphenhyphenC767px4K98KZNad1Ois5hCopd0IHkT42n8zih8rLEIU5tm6YZg2zVLkh_X6ngkV-Qr6UldK7tl_4JhnzDppDGPs32LiZP3vI17MGvkDiRJTHrvxdRKpp-e1EDm7nWO2V2A8TzMGQM/s320/015.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-27745052678079763342012-04-03T12:09:00.000-07:002012-04-03T12:09:00.653-07:00Front Door Decor<br />
<h1 style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><em><span style="font-size: large;">Portals of Past Elegance</span></em></span></h1>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Period
tools and techniques in hand, John Schnitzler tends a most visible
architectural legacy of Portsmouth, New Hampshire and the surrounding Seacoast,
through the renovation of colonial door surrounds more than two centuries old. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifrrTQm9gXmI3JSF6Hib8COwjcnVhdJ08J38ajPCZ5PEf4DYhFQZQCQ6eet7T10y6auUUiNjs-5VFzeTLFOm0VKq5rB9qtVBi2YmZfG0PM1s4UIOhlvzdp7-Ci_Uz6oiAWKIKBozXSZS2P/s1600/sherburne+scroll.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifrrTQm9gXmI3JSF6Hib8COwjcnVhdJ08J38ajPCZ5PEf4DYhFQZQCQ6eet7T10y6auUUiNjs-5VFzeTLFOm0VKq5rB9qtVBi2YmZfG0PM1s4UIOhlvzdp7-Ci_Uz6oiAWKIKBozXSZS2P/s320/sherburne+scroll.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Some
surrounds call for simple, small repairs,” explains the Maine-based carpenter
who learned his trade under the tutelage of the legendary master carpenter,
Norm Clark, at Portsmouth’s 10-acre maritime neighborhood museum, Strawbery
Banke. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Other
door surrounds require major surgery when they have to be taken apart piece by
piece, to be repaired, duplicated or replaced.” Schnitzler has salvaged at
least two dozen door surrounds in Seacoast New Hampshire and southern Maine
over the course of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>two decades.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Once
a booming, urban seaport, Portsmouth and her legendary echelon of merchants,
shipbuilders, lawyers and government figures – and before the American
Revolution, her Royal Governors – required impressive dwellings to mirror their
social standings in an unrivaled, exhilarating heyday of prosperity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">In
the 18<sup>th</sup> century, Georgian and Federal embellishments, entirely the
creation of English architects tapping Roman and Greek antiquities, appeared in
all manner of interior and exterior architecture as well as furniture and
decorative elements in the colonies, most prominently in door surrounds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“The
doorway of a house proclaimed to all the status and wealth of its occupants,
who could afford the skills of superlative carvers and joiners working in
tandem to accomplish the grandest entrance possible,” continues the
bespectacled artisan with his trademark pencil perched between cap and ear. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">With
restoration, these artifacts endure as a testament to the outstanding caliber
of trade dynasties working in Portsmouth almost two decades before the
Revolutionary War.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Several
trade families – the Dearings, the Whiddens and the Harts, to name just a few –
sprang into action to fulfill the architectural appetites of the upper class.
They also left their telltale marks inside – from interior columns and detailed
trim and moldings to carved mantels and corner cupboards.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The
Chase House, a refined Georgian (named for England’s King George III) era home,
built in 1762, features two contrasting door surrounds; one fancy, one a little
less so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ebenezer Dearing, 1730 - 1791,
lived for a time in the two-story residence and is credited with carving the
finely executed Corinthian capitals and dense, ornate detailing in the front
door surround as well as another of his calling cards, an elaborately carved
mantel, festooned with a delicate, French-inspired rococo pattern of flowers,
fruits and ribbons, adorning the formal parlor fireplace. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">His
son, William, 1759 - 1813, continued the family business, carving columns and
other ornamental features all around the city. Together, their collective style
survives in the capitals at Sherburne, Wentworth-Gardner, Governor Langdon and
Moffatt-Ladd Houses, St. John’s Church, on several mantels and the oval
carvings on the facade of the Portsmouth Athenaeum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The
signature on Dearing capital carvings is distinct, says Schnitzler: “A zig-zag
dart or lightning bolt carved into the tops of capitals.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Wallingford
Hall, a merchant’s manse in Kennebunk, Maine, dated to 1807 and now a public
marketplace, displays the quintessential Federal door surround and floor plan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“The
house stands in amazingly large scale,” he says, “and the rooms inside are
huge, so the door surround must match that scale.” The entryway opens extra
wide, with newfangled features – transom sidelights and an elliptical skylight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Built
in brick in 1818, on Pleasant Street, one of Portsmouth’s most opulent
thoroughfares, the Treadwell-Jenness House is only one of several city
residences commissioned by and named for the well-to-do merchant family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The
front door, which Schnitzler freed from a small hall addition and returned to
its original position, represents a classic door surround with a half-circle,
arched transom featuring a leaf or flute pattern drawn in glass with lead
tracery. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">These
elements display a change in door surround styles ushering in the Federal
period, a style christened in honor of the new federation of states that
included new fluting, reeding and beading woodworking techniques as well as
curved walls and curved staircases inside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The
new approach took hold in New England in 1785 and held sway through the 1820s,
brought to the fore by next generation builders such as James Nutter, Jonathan
Folsom and journeyman joiner, Shepard Frost, like the Dearings, Harts and
Whiddens before them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">To
restoration carpenters such as John Schnitzler, these enduring woodworks are
prize relics, worthy of salvation and admiration. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD5A5x031AvGQNnciL_hVa4ECtxTQ3sj-NF_TdTjWVQRpGhJP03IuLI7dMn7vzbbsBM3sIl_A7xB4tqwFv7dgaHYOH5Q2QCbrsXFyTmJEXdGKXpGMpnjg4OVzjlGgd8WOEiqqiRjank_ns/s1600/sherburne+door.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD5A5x031AvGQNnciL_hVa4ECtxTQ3sj-NF_TdTjWVQRpGhJP03IuLI7dMn7vzbbsBM3sIl_A7xB4tqwFv7dgaHYOH5Q2QCbrsXFyTmJEXdGKXpGMpnjg4OVzjlGgd8WOEiqqiRjank_ns/s320/sherburne+door.JPG" width="180" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-1873590251134012152012-03-10T09:08:00.000-08:002012-03-25T16:20:56.102-07:00Bringing the Mills Back to Life<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #f79646; mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Artists At Salmon Falls Mills
Usher in a Collective Cultural Economy</span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #cccccc;">It’s often impossible to trace
just how the momentum for a movement started, but in the case of the Salmon
Falls Mills in Rollinsford, New Hampshire – just across the river from South
Berwick, Maine – the spark for what would become a central arts hub began with
a simple request.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #cccccc;">“ We never started the renovations
with the intention of renting to artists,” remembers Leanne Cutter Pellerin,
general manager of Cutter Family Properties that bought the nearly deserted
pair of brick mill buildings in 2000. “We had no idea there was such a local
demand for studio space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We actually had
an artist approach us with the request that we create an artist studio for
her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once we started and word got
around, the Upper Mill quickly filled with various artisans.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Calibri;">The Mills at Salmon Falls, </span><a href="http://www.millartists.com/"><span style="mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Calibri;">www.millartists.com</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #cccccc;">, these many years later remain a hive
of cultural activity, with more than 100 artists and artisans, both full-time
and hobbyist, established and emerging, working out of 110 studios. A dizzying
array of artists that includes painters, performers, jewelers, furniture
makers, photographers, fabric artists, woodworkers and craftsmen of every
stripe populate the Upper Mill, as do two martial arts studios, a troupe of
African drummers and a gregarious group of belly dancers. The Lower Mill houses
commercial and light industrial tenants as well as artists, plus the Elysium
Arts Folk Club, a café, dance studio and Rollinsford Public Library.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #cccccc;">In early May and again in
November, Mills artists fling open their doors for Open House events that
attract throngs of visitors out to shop, watch a performance, observe a
demonstration or talk to a variety of artists. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On just one floor, visitors may watch a glass
artist create a one-of-a-kind window pane, admire a wall of paintings created by
two artists sharing the studio, marvel at futuristic comic book illustrations
peppering a wall in the lobby, take in a photography exhibit or gawk over
hand-made clothes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #cccccc;">“For us, the Open House provides
positive exposure that allows us to educate the public,” says Ron Tuveson, a
gilder (who specializes in a 3,000-year-old technique called water gilding),
frame-maker and restorer from Kittery who works out of the Lower Mill with his
son, Jared.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #cccccc;">At one time, Tuveson operated four
separate studios on the fourth floor of the Upper Mill. “The artists were
calling me Ronald Trump because of that but what it really meant was that I was
walking six to eight miles a day between studio spaces.” A recent move to a
spacious, 2,000-square-foot studio in the Lower Mill has meant “more working
and less walking” and continued involvement in “a wonderful, creative
atmosphere that allows us to get input from other artists.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Calibri;">Noted painter and teacher, Stan
Moeller, of York, (</span><a href="http://www.stanmoeller.com/"><span style="mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Calibri;">www.stanmoeller.com</span></span></a><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Calibri;">) sings the
praises of the Mills; with the natural light pouring into the studio spaces and
the mellifluous sound of the river lead the list. “The whole place has a buzz
of creative energy,” he states emphatically, detailing his work routine:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“</span></span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #cccccc; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-themecolor: accent6;">I love my 600-square-foot studio where I can paint large, stretch
canvases, frame my paintings, store my frames and paintings. I have my large
art book collection at my disposal. I can get in there in the morning, put on
some coffee, turn on my music, an iPod full with 3,000 songs hooked up to my
stereo, and paint for hours and hours and just get lost in the process.”</span><span style="mso-themecolor: accent6;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-themecolor: accent6;">On occasion, he hires the Tuvesons
to build custom frames for his paintings, and like them, embraces the
experience of being surrounded by other hard-working artists. </span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-themecolor: accent6;">“I have made good friends with other
creative folks. Brad Auger and Dale Vigent at Vigent Custom Finishes make the
panels I paint on and Allan Breed made my heirloom quality paint box I use when
I paint on location. All have become friends, especially Allan, and his son,
Sam.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Calibri;">The
name Allan Breed (</span><a href="http://www.allanbreed.com/"><span style="mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Calibri;">www.allanbreed.com</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #cccccc;">) is synonymous with the
finest in reproduction period furniture and cabinet making – anywhere. This
South Berwick resident, restoration prodigy and famed Furniture Master operates
studios and The Breed School at the Mills where students learn the particulars
of making American 18<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> century furniture <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>by hand using traditional tools and
techniques. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #cccccc;">Like
most at the Mills, longtime fabric artist Wen Redmond, communicates her regard
for the Mills fervently: “There are a variety of people that use the Mills for
studios, business and even storage. For me, it can be a gallery, a place to
hold workshops, to make art in an atmosphere of a creative community.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Calibri;">Adds
Pellerin: “</span></span><span style="mso-themecolor: accent6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #cccccc;">I think
bringing the mills back to life positively impacts the surrounding communities
in many ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course it brings
revenue to this area just from having all the extra people eating lunch and
whatnot, but I also think it adds character to this area.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Mills at Salmon Falls are owned by
Cutter Family Properties (603-749-8879), located on the 4<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> floor in
the Lower Mill. To find out more about the mills or to make an inquiry about
renting, contact leannecutter@comcast.net or (603) 749-8879.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b></div>Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-9743189439641769882012-02-07T10:42:00.000-08:002012-02-07T10:42:48.361-08:00Restored Treasure<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">It’s
hard to imagine what 18<sup>th</sup> century builders, carvers, joiners and
other craftsmen would say about the restoration of one of their most
magnificent Portsmouth mansions in New Hampshire – the Henry Sherburne House. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Rather
than renovating back to one point in time, ambitious restoration plan
homeowner, Fred Lowell, enacted – with the assistance of Portsmouth builder,
Carl Aichele, and architect, Steven McHenry – a custom approach, honoring not
one or two distinct architectural eras, but three. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">An
historic decorative arts dealer from Hopkinton, New Hampshire, Lowell bought
the regal home in the fall of 2002 and began comprehensive restorations the
following summer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">He
immediately recalls his first and lasting impression of the home: “I liked the
architecture of the house; it’s as fine as any house in Portsmouth. We took
almost a year to figure out how to do exactly the restoration we wanted.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Split
down the middle, figuratively, from roof to basement, one side reverted back to
the mid-1700s, the Georgian period, while the other half<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>was restored to 1840s Greek Revival era, a
period which followed the Georgian and Federal styles. Entirely modern living
quarters were installed at the rear of the house in a two-story ell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The
vision behind the extensive plans forged work and living quarters while paying
homage to the home’s important history spanning more than two centuries.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The
well-documented structure is listed on the National Register as a 1725
construction financed by Portsmouth merchant Henry Sherburne, though most
architectural historians and preservationists today believe the home was built
later in the 1760s as the residence of cabinetmaker, Richard Shortridge. Later,
the lofty structure became home to merchant brothers, Samuel and Thomas Rice.
Despite disagreement over the exact date of its manufacture, experts agree the
home sparkles as a prime example of high-style Georgian architecture.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Lowell’s
restoration of the elegant house comes as yet another lucky break for the
building. It was saved from the wrecking ball of federal urban development in
the late 1960s and carefully removed from a dense swath of tattered, doomed
period homes in the North End along the Piscataqua River, to a ‘no demolition
zone’ across the street dubbed The Hill. At this juncture, a new basement was
added, some remodeling done and the once-palatial residence served as a senior
citizen center for many years. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Touring
the home in the midst of restoration, Lowell details his thinking behind how
each decision was made with respect to dating rooms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“We
tried to capture the way the house evolved – not go to the way it looked when
it was built. We went back to the last time the house had something to say,
back to the 1840s when the homeowners left some of the rooms to its original,
Georgian state and updated others to the latest, Greek Revival style.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">At
one point in time, the house was split into a duplex to shelter two families, a
fairly common practice in Portsmouth homes, even those with sterling pedigrees.
At Sherburne House, Georgian features were left alone on one side and the newer
update of Greek Revival elements were added to the other side. This footprint
is the template Lowell followed in the main house. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">To
illustrate his point further, Lowell reveals a section of the foyer wall
exposed to reveal three distinct building styles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Taking apart the house means mending the
facts and discovering things. We took off paneling in the foyer and we can see
18<sup>th</sup> century lathe and plaster and over that, Greek Revival lathe
and plaster and over that, wallboard from the 1970s when the house was
remodeled after its move.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Completely
revived, the Sherburne House encloses living quarters, a workshop, ample
storage space and three galleries full of Queen Anne, Chippendale and Federal
furnishings and accessories. “The house now boasts two historic periods, but
with modern settings,” enthuses Lowell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The
lovingly restored front door surround, with its delicately carved Corinthian
capitals, broken scroll or swan’s neck pediment centered with a finial-topped
pedestal, announces to all the home’s early Georgian roots. The portal
embellishment was removed, and painstakingly restored by Portsmouth master
restoration carpenter, John Schnitzler, who took more than 200 hours to pull
apart, repair or re-create the numerous pieces. The carved rosettes positioned
prominently on the pediment, lost over time, were reproduced – hand-carved – by
McHenry.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Past
this splendid gateway, a fully resplendent front hall, dated to the Georgian
era, opens to a central staircase. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">A
doorway on each side of the room testifies to both Georgian and Greek Revival
aesthetics undertaken over time under one roof. “These two doorways are of
different heights; the one on the right has a taller Greek Revival door, the
other a shorter Georgian one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">To
the left, beyond the shorter door, a formal living room displays typical
Georgian embellishments including pilaster with carved capital window and door
treatments, mantel and crown moldings, all original to the house.<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b>The room behind it, perhaps another
bedroom in the original era, later a kitchen when the house was split in two,
is now restored to a Georgian age library. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">A
central staircase leading to a second floor continues the split of Georgian and
Greek Revival floor plans. Above the formal living room, the Georgian style
persists in a master bedroom featuring the original floor and fireplace with
crown molding. An adjacent room will become a display room for late 18<sup>th</sup>
and early 19<sup>th</sup> century glass and porcelain. “This was probably a
second bedroom,” says Lowell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The
formal dining room, off the first floor entry foyer and to the right past the
taller doorway, bears all the markers of a Greek Revival room. “Here we tried
to create the modern 1840 room where the walls moved in and the windows were
made deeper.” Above, on the second floor, a Greek Revival sitting room and
bedroom matches rooms below in meticulous detail.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The
two-story ell at the rear of the house was built in three sections, explains
Lowell. “It began as a lean-to with roof, then changed to a shed with a roof
and eventually was enlarged into a two-story addition.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Here,
the floor plan includes a kitchen and sun room on the first floor and a suite
of bedrooms with vaulted ceilings on the second floor. An elevator was built in
this part of the house to accommodate an elderly member of the household and
the efficient movement of Lowell’s antiques.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The
biggest surprise during renovations surfaced on the third floor, in attic
space.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Here,
on the ‘Georgian side’ of the house, a small finished room with original floor
boards featured a small fireplace and was made into a servant’s quarters. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Other
remodeling for this uppermost wing converted a room behind the servant’s
quarters into a modern bathroom with woodwork matching the servant’s room, and
at the rear of the house, a modern bedroom and bathroom. Precise in every
detail and fit for its early occupants, the newly minted Sherburne House wears
a cap of fresh, wooden shingles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-19266537326808027092011-12-30T07:42:00.000-08:002011-12-30T07:42:34.387-08:00Art DiMambro, Further Afield<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Standing in his spacious home studio in Durham, flooded with afternoon sunlight, Art DiMambro describes an oil painting in progress, a vista with a prominent grove of olive trees. This rather large canvas, and several smaller ones, chronicle the artist’s blissful five weeks of plein air painting last summer in and around Ascoli Picena, in north central Italy. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The journey, taken with an entourage of students and instructors from UNH as part of an art and language exchange program, took on the sheen of a long overdue homecoming for DiMambro, who was raised in Dover but was born in St. Elia, near Cassino, less than two hours south of Rome. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I painted a couple of paintings each day,” remarks the bespectacled painter and sculptor, who retired from practice as an orthopedic surgeon in 1991. “They had to be small ones though, because I had to bring them back.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The verdant surroundings were irresistible: “You can walk out of town to find more views and we rented a car to get further afield. Olive trees and little villages were everywhere.” </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A larger painting captures a broad view of Cassino, a beacon of glimmering white atop a hill, ringed by a necklace of smaller villages, including his birthplace. Plein air painting suits the artist well: “It’s a more intense experience than studio painting. The light changes. A lot depends on that first impression. There’s a sense of urgency that certainly lights a fire.”</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IEXkA6r05zA/Tv3bHhFfRmI/AAAAAAAAALA/G9LDlEjiOys/s1600/cassino+atop+hill.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="143" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IEXkA6r05zA/Tv3bHhFfRmI/AAAAAAAAALA/G9LDlEjiOys/s320/cassino+atop+hill.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Discussing a memory or sharing a description about each of his many paintings adorning the walls of every room in his home, DiMambro says he always painted throughout his career as a surgeon, but took classes in sculpture, drawing and painting at UNH post retirement. As a resident doctor in Philadelphia (he earned a pre-med undergrad degree at UNH and his medical degree at UV, Burlington, after a stint in the Army) he was introduced to art shows by a friend who would soon take him to painting classes on Friday nights. “We went to a retrospective of Winslow Homer in New York, and that was it for me, that was the beginning.” DiMambro’s painting style is reminiscent to that of American modernist, Marsden Hartley, 1877 - 1943.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Equally adept at capturing the still life, landscape, his singular still life and landscape hybrid, figurative painting and sculpture, interpreted forcefully in both vibrant and cool color palettes, the artist notes his affinity for sculpture as a by-product of his profession. “Being a surgeon is quite helpful in rendering 3D sculptures as you’re always thinking and moving in three dimensions.” </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Several bronzes occupy corners of DiMambro’s living space, mostly nude studies and groups of figures, including bocci ball players and a series of Lake Winnipesaukee swimmers – in reality his four daughters and wife – resting on a sunning platform. Like most enduring artists, his personal collection of art impresses, with works by Arthur Balderacchi, John Laurent, Jane Kaufmann, Gary Haven Smith, Chris Cook and Grant Drumheller, his mentor.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He also has a gift for capturing the fluidity of moving water, no small feat. “As an old trout and salmon fisherman, I do like water,” he states with a generous smile. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ERoHQXDBpQ8/Tv3bbBDbj3I/AAAAAAAAALM/CKn3WhHlfKo/s1600/waterfall.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ERoHQXDBpQ8/Tv3bbBDbj3I/AAAAAAAAALM/CKn3WhHlfKo/s320/waterfall.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Describing a large painting called the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fruit Stand</i>, DiMambro tells of his father’s longtime employment as a rose grower at Elliott Greenhouses, situated in Dover and Madbury. “When that job ended, he had a farm and fruit stand, which I recall here.”</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Later, in an upstairs room featuring more paintings of Italian landscapes, the artist speaks to his ancestors and their wrenching decision to leave a slice of paradise: “There are no artists in my family. They were peasants from southern Italy. It’s hard to imagine them leaving such a beautiful place but there was no work. I asked people during my recent trip to Italy if they would leave today and of course they wouldn’t. After World War II the Fiat Factory came into the area and with that came work.” DiMambro plans on another painting trip to Italy later this year with his family.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The artist often paints with Portsmouth based painter Chris Cook; “a lot on Great Bay.” Cook was teaching art at UNH when DiMambro started his practice in 1960, but then left three years later to oversee and teach at the Addison Gallery in Andover, Massachusetts. The pair exhibited together more than once, including a two man show at the UNH Museum of Art in 2001. He has also exhibited at the NH Art Association Robert Lincoln Levy Gallery in Portsmouth; The Currier in Manchester; The George Marshall Store Gallery in York, Maine where he had a one man show and is going to be in a show the first week in June, and the G. Watson Gallery in Deer Isle, Maine. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hs801jWkL9s/Tv3bnNkSbII/AAAAAAAAALY/b2r1ElIvVYc/s1600/dimambro+fields.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hs801jWkL9s/Tv3bnNkSbII/AAAAAAAAALY/b2r1ElIvVYc/s320/dimambro+fields.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-19047061259028964042011-08-24T06:29:00.000-07:002011-08-24T11:56:09.675-07:00Fallow<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It took me decades to realize that staying still, being quiet , reflective, went against the grain of the now ubiquitous 24/7 ethos demanding constant motion, endless lists of things to do, a ramped up schedule without any free time to lay about. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I clearly remember hearing in middle school that technological advances would surely lead to more leisure time; that the forty hour work week would ebb to half that so we could wander off to sip freely from the cup of rest and recreation. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So much for that prediction, since every new device seems to only hypnotize us further into loops of constant contact of the digital kind that take us away from actual face time with one another. Cell phones, to me, are one of the biggest scams ever perpetrated on the human race. They often do not ring or work at all. They are easy to break, suffer battery burn out. The minutes restrictions make them beyond ridiculous. No one answers their fucking phone! Everyone has mobile devices but there is less direct communication. One of my least fave experiences is calling someone at a phone number only to hear a message that the caller should reach them at another number, and of course, they won't pick up their phone at this second point of contact either!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">All these products do is engender more rounds of messages. A land line always works, doesn’t break nearly as often and you pay a flat fee. But, OMG, if we can’t babble into a device while driving or shopping or walking, we might perish. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Likewise, Twitter is a form of mass hysteria. Like the Borg on Star Trek, we are plugged into a “living network,” in truth a massive mother board maintained by Big Brother, that all-seeing eye and scorekeeper our best writers characterized as a government bully. True, our messages and thoughts and shopping patterns are now in the public domain, but the government didn’t do this to us. We invited all the “convenience” of these instantaneous gratification devices into our lives without hesitation and now we are relentlessly bombarded with adverts. Every time I pull up my emails, there are ads for the shopping sites I visited three days earlier. That is definitely creepy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We chit chat like gaggles of hyper teenage girls. We hunch over computers, stab at minute keyboards, habitually connect.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My partner recently went to a remote cabin in nowhere Maine, with his friend and his friend’s son. These guests brought their devices, received several phone calls and twittered. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No bubble of solitude, the natural world muted as mere background noise. Even on vacation, we come armed with electronica.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All of this is to say, it’s harder to remove oneself to a less frenetic zone. To feel comfortable in one’s own skin, to stop moving and scheduling long enough to recharge. To lie fallow as a means to invite inspiration, rejuvenation, just as we let plots of garden lie fallow to give the soil a reprieve, to let it come back strong.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s quite hard to put down the devices, to turn off the set and the music long enough to simply think and return to some old-fashioned daydreaming, to read, to take a walk. To me, it’s a luxurious lifestyle to be less connected. It makes me take notice of my surroundings, my neighbors, engenders trips to the farmers markets, longer walks and even a few new ideas. Imagine that.</span></div>Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-37461312124660377212011-08-09T08:34:00.000-07:002011-08-09T08:34:53.938-07:00Midsummer DaysIn the extremes of weather, we always pine for the other side. In blizzard conditions, we yearn for hot sunshine; in heat waves, we crave Canadian cold fronts. <br />
That is why, for me, the transitional months of the year are best -- April and May, October and November. Temps between 60 and 80 sheer perfection.<br />
Drought has claimed huge swaths of lawn, much of our flower garden has toppled over. The veg garden has survived through regular watering, but in August not much looks fresh.<br />
The smooth, foot carressing lawn is now an uncomfortable stubble on the bare foot. The dragon's blood, a leafy burgundy bush topped with small yellow flowers, which once stood in a huge copse five feet tall, is now a broken bit of biomass dead center in our main garden. The lilles have all passed, leaving dry stalks behind. <br />
These are certainly dog days...which is an insult, really, to our fine canine friends. An insult to their innate loyal characters. Dog days refers to the Dog Star, which follows the constellation Orion through the night sky. In August, this Dog Star (there are really two dog stars following the legendary hunter, as it chases Taurus the Bull) are quite prevalent.<br />
I have mentally banished the dog stars and have set my mind forward to the cool winds of late September, the golden blush of leaves, the first frost. I am of Nordic blood, perhaps even part albino. I must remember to move to Canada!<br />
Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-14519220094083342642011-06-08T07:27:00.000-07:002011-06-08T07:33:45.185-07:00Natural SelectionDarwin posits that the dna of life on earth mutates, either to the detriment or progression of said life. Some changes usher in a full bloom of population while other mutations fizzle a species entirely out of existence.<br />
I just visited an amazing site: darwintunes.org whereby they apply a mutation formula to create future generations of music, specifically bars of musical notes. What a dazzling way to explain the subtle changes of a mutation, amplified over time, to create unimaginable songbooks.<br />
Here in our garden -- or anyone's garden really -- changes in each growing season provide ample lessons in the myriad factors of success or failure. Last summer, we were awash in strawberries, alledgedly finicky fennel and spiders. The year before yielded bumper crops of shallots, beans, cukes. And always, we grow the most enormous but still succulent butternut squash.<br />
So far, the early celebrities in our patches include the entire herb garden which has assumed a hybrid wild and manicured look the bees will visit well into fall. The lemon balm has hopscotched all over, as has the camomile, but still these greedy growers have left room for the oregano, tarragon, sage and equally bustling bee balm and low growing thymes.<br />
The strawberries are about to burst. Two rows of varying type, both perfect...waiting for more heat before they blush into morsels of intense sweetness.<br />
A white clematis has claimed one of the garden gates, as never before. And the Jane Garden has taken on a whole new look after five years....rife with color and texture only imagined during the darkness of January.<br />
There are always suprises. A lovely rose has moved in with the varigated hosta out front. The hosta holds out its broad leaves, like a welcome lap, under the canopy of the exuberant branch of thorn and bud.<br />
A volunteer narcissus bloomed among our hill of mint, outlasting the group of narcissus in the front spring garden where it really belonged, boldly defying its required light and space requirements. A rose bush my father gave me five years ago when we moved here was placed under the shade of a large maple along the fence and in one of the wettest areas on the property. All quite incorrect growing conditions for a rose. Yet it has tripled in size, throwing dozens of blooms in summer and fall, appearing impervious to any of the many molds, fungi, mites and other maladies.<br />
These stubborn plants bolster any flagging mood the gardener may have. Such as years of tending a perfectly sited shade area for myrtle which grows only marginally, year after year, even with reinforcements. Or the half dozen apple trees that died, introduced into a soil too wet to let them grow, but welcoming to plum and pear trees. All apple trees now go on the barn side of the house! Or the first tree we planted -- an Ohio Pioneer Elm, which did well but is now only leafed on the lower third and is becoming root strangled.<br />
A garden is such a visceral metaphor for the order and chaos, the lovely surprise and disappointment of life. The best bets are always the unexpected, vigorous renegades.Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-24956890957255453922011-05-27T09:02:00.000-07:002011-05-27T09:06:35.898-07:00The Full Symphonic NightSpring brings with it so many charms -- rampant green lawns, gardens, trees in full leaf. To me, one of the biggest changes in my behavior at this time of year, besides long, after dinner walks with the dogs around the creek, is the impulse to linger outside at night, especially before the onslaught of mosquitos.<br />
I've gone on enough camping trips and stirred early enough in my bed to hear the roar of birdsong as the sun rises. It's a cacophany that begs the question: How can anyone possibly sleep past 6 am with this racket going on?<br />
At night, there's certainly a full symphonic blast beaconing, but the songs are different. First, the earth smells different than it does during the day. After dusk, it's impossible not to inhale the growth of plants as they have plowed upward, spurred by hours of eating the light. This intoxicating scent is heightened with a tinge of dampness, a whiff of the bog. The color equivalent would be an emerald green doused with a dusting of chocolate brown.<br />
Standing there, looking into the inky depths of the meadow, an endless night sky freckled with stars, the sounds come. The peepers who began their serenades in March are still in full song, though their volume is now tamped down with hundreds of other sounds. <br />
I can hear the complaint of geese as they settle in amongst the hay of the back field. Little chirps of birds up past their bed times. The wind kicking up waves in the tops of the long grasses. A continuous murmur of birdsong, more like bird mumbles, peeps and calls...Perhaps the comforting salve of birds calming their nestlings? Sometimes, it sounds like a jungle...throaty declarations of toads, coos of doves, a myriad mash up of messages on waves of the lower frequency.<br />
It's an alluring concert. A call of the wild, a reminder of the endless spin of the planet into a new season, flush with growth and procreation. <br />
Like the fleeting blooms of forsythia, the bridal bush, tulips...these nights race by. Later on, the lightning bugs dance above the meadow, the bobolinks talk past sundown, the robins tend to their second broods. The dampness of the earth, drenched in spring showers, is replaced by the sodden summer air.Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-56549860013955792042011-04-25T12:20:00.000-07:002011-05-26T12:25:05.769-07:00Best Seats for ViewingIt's always a great sensation to be in the right place at the right time. Yesterday, I was standing outside when a kestrel perched on the bird cage -- an enormous tangle of branches piled high from all the wind storms of the last three years. The bird was small but still looked fierce with those piercing gimlet eyes. Black lines adorned his face that also had a trace of yellow near the breast and robin egg blue on its cap.<br />
As a perch, the bird cage affords a panaromic view, but inside, dozens of sparrows dwell. The bird cage (or beaver dam or wood reef) has expanded despite our vow to burn it, but it'll probably become a permanent feature since, from the start, it offered a wind break, a safe bubble away from the wild winds and storms sweeping in across the fields from the east.<br />
So the wee sparrows must have quivered in fear as the small predator, who likes nothing better than dining on small birds, sat atop their manmade haven. Soon he was gone.<br />
Later in the day I ventured to the Music Hall's new and quite expensively purchased and renovated music space in downtown Portsmouth, called The Loft to see and hear that most gifted Siren -- Patty Larkin. A much better name for the space would be The Coffin.<br />
I think the non-profit group paid several million dollars for the space, which was once a part of Stuart Shaines on Congress Street. When I entered the new venue I talked to a staffer and asked her what the room was like. Her reply: intimate.<br />
Like other patrons, I followed a long, narrow hallway which took a sharp left turn to a coat check and then turned again to a door. Was this a newfangled Spiral Design fit for burrowing mammals? A woman looked at my ticket and pointed across a small room with low ceilings, painted entirely in black. There was no other door, not a window in sight. In the front row, a line of small round tables almost touched. The seats were packed together sardine style. <br />
How could anyone enjoy a show here? Even The Rat in Boston, downstairs at The Grog in Newburyport and the cave that was the Muddy River bar were far less constricted than this. Was this what several million dollars buys in 2011?<br />
Feeling like I was walking into a fire trap, and wondering how any fire marshal would sign off on this awful and obviously dangerous design, I opted not to cross the room, and cram myself into an uncomfortable chair. I fled and while doing so, drew out pleasant memories of seeing Larkin at Prescott Park (with Bill Morrissey) and at an outdoor setting in Dover.<br />
Which got me to thinking today about some of the best seats I've ever had the fortune to occupy at music stages.<br />
Here are my top ten: <br />
1. At age 14, me and my pal, Jodie, and her sister, Kim, got in their mum's car for the ride from Claremont to Hanover. Jodie's mom had tickets to see Jesse Colin Young at the campus arena. When we arrived, the entire campus was on strike against the Vietnam Conflict (it was 1970) and so in a room that could hold thousands, there were, at tops, 300. We ended up sitting on one side of the stage. The coolest intro to concerts ever.<br />
2. When I was 16, my hippie dippie father drove us from our apartment on L Street at Hampton Beach to this spacious coffeehouse in Ipswich, Mass. I remember it was located near a river or tidal inlet, that it boasted a large tree in the dirt parking lot and that the place looked like a sprawling house. I can't remember the name of the place which bothers me. <br />
We had been there before. It had a loungey area and you could order food and the main room had a nice stage and a lots of tables and chairs. We had seen Mimi Farina (Joan Baez's sister) perform and she was quite impressive. So adept on guitar and a voice less soprano than Joan's.<br />
Anyhow on this occasion, we were going to the coffeehouse for a New Year's Eve bash featuring Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen, the creators of that hit, Hot Rod Lincoln. We arrived to find that all the tables and chairs had been pushed to the back of the room to make way for dancing. It had been snowing and yet the place was full. The band was two feet away from where I stationed myself. I met a boy my age who had tagged along with his older sister and we spent the night dancing and flirting, vowing to meet again the next month. When we returned at the appointed time, the coffee house was closed.<br />
3.) In high school, I ventured with a group of friends to my first Boston concert -- Delaney & Bonnie & Friends at the Hynes Auditorium. Never actually realized that those Friends included Eric Clapton and Dave Mason until I got there! Never heard a more powerful female voice than that of Bonnie Bramlett. This performance set the bar high for future concert experiences.<br />
4.) When I was 17, I ended up at Shamrock Park somewhere in Brooklyn (I think) with a boy I had been introduced to by another friend. The Park was huge, the seating was on the lawn and the most unusual thing about the space was that an elevated subway encircled the space behind the stage. So you'd be listening and looking and along would come the subway. Unreal. Headlining were The Allman Brothers. The opening act was Savoy Brown (yet another incarnation of the origianl group; didn't recognize any of the players) and as surprise guests, The Grateful Dead showed up. Unfortunately, I had taken a toke of a passing joint which had to be laced with something strange...I was so stoned for most of that concert. I think I fell asleep on that boy's lap. Never been to a setting like that since and have never taken a proffered hit on any drug since then.<br />
5.) Hitchhiked with a friend from Hampton Beach to Seabrook. A small bright blue hatchback stopped. We piled into the front seat. In the back seat there was a long rod holding up clothing on hangers and also a doberman pincher who was contently perched and more importantly, not growling.<br />
The driver was male. I noticed a rather ornate silver cuff bracelet on his dashboard and picked it up to look at it and asked: Are you a silversmith? To which he replied: No, I'm in the group Aerosmith. I had played trenches into the previous year's fave Christmas gift -- Toys in the Attic -- on the turntable. My friend and I gazed at the driver again. Then he said: We're playing at the TicToc in Salisbury this weekend.<br />
He drove us to where we were going. My friend and I had a great laugh at this brazen pretender.<br />
And then...as I entered the TicToc main listening room, I watched as the kindly driver fobbed across the stage singing in that unforgettable screech and growl. It was none other than Steven Tyler. They put on quite a show.<br />
6.) The Cameo in South Beach. My landlord was a part owner at The Cameo, which is a doppleganger to The Orpheum in Boston. Watched David Byrne and his huge contingent from South America perform their Rei Mo Mo album, and Talking Head hits, from the sound booth. Later, David Byrne bummed cigarettes off me while a small group of us were drinking and snacking at a nearby watering hole after the concert. David is shy and an observant guy. Before the show, he was taking photos of his wife and infant daughter outside the main doors.<br />
7.) Best seats ever at the Boston Garden to see David Bowie in his Thin White Duke tour with TVC15 (Fame)...also Jethro Tull, Rod Stewart, Alice Cooper, Jefferson Airplane, and others. Had tickets to see Led Zeppelin in 1970 at the Garden but then swine ticketbuyers trashed the place and Mayor Kevin White cancelled the show. I still have the tickets...they were $7 each. Biggest rock and roll bummer ever.<br />
8.) A last minute outdoor concert at Philips Exeter Academy featuring James Montgomery Blues Band. I think my junior year in high school. Splendid.<br />
9.) Seeing Crosby, Stills and Nash in a daytime concert at that outdoor place in North Conway was nice. This was before Crosby fell off the edge with that weapons bust and before his liver failed. He was pudgy and probably stoned but he was by far the most talented of the three that day. He sang his heart out.<br />
My pals decided on standing in front of the stage but I opted for the stadium seating on the far side. Here, quite amused, I watched as a lone police officer snatched bags of pot and mushrooms from attendees as he paced up and down the aisles. I mean folks of all ages were taking drugs in broad daylight. The arena itself resembled a giant bong as cloud sized plumes of smog lifted into the air, almost in time with the music.<br />
10.) Hearing Bo Diddley perform, with my beau Michael Kelly, at the Lone Star Cafe in NYC was thrilling. The place was not too crowded as it was a weeknight and some insane chick in the audience got right on stage with him and suggestively danced all around him during his set. She had this long scarf she used to carress herself and also Bo. It was part comedy, part sexy cabaret and pure swamp beat music. He was surprised and pleased and the entire crowd was completely engaged. He thanked the woman who returned to her seat to much applause. He wasn't at all upset at the interloper. A real pro.Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-63135975584246975722011-04-07T19:25:00.000-07:002011-04-07T19:25:26.624-07:00The Miracle of ParsnipsSo one day it's suddenly warm and the snow, so recent, has been soaked up by the already soggy earth or sipped by the brightening sky. Broken into paper thinness, the fallen leaves of last autumn appear, a throw blanket over patches of garden. From under this mulch of damp, mud and stone emerge those first hardy heralds: the tips of daffs and tulips, the incredibly delicate crocus, the shaggy leaves of poppies.<br />
Hidden below out in the big garden we dig, as if for treasure. Have the parsnips grown? Have the mice gotten to them over the winter? Have they rotted where they once stood upright?<br />
Carefully, we tug at their muddy tops, but not too hard or they will break like overwrought pencils at test time. Memories of shattered carrots come to mind.<br />
After some muttering -- pleading actually -- out pops a long and straight specimen. Pearly under the grime of a long winter. Matured under the fire of wicked frost. Damp and frozen and yet in the early spring, ready to reap.<br />
Into the sink they are piled for a quick shower, followed by a more rigorous massage with veg brush. They come clean and already emit a heady perfume; a tang of pine with creamy undertones.<br />
In the peeling, comes the first sensory bonanza: the sweet smell fills the kitchen. Then later, from the cook pot they invite a dash of orange juice, a spray of curry, butter. Whipped into a cloud of pale orange, festooned with a freckling of fresh parsley, they command the dinner plate. Their long journey from summer to fall and through the long winter is noted. Like the crocus, the parsnip announces rebirth, the victory of spring over winter and other welcome sights to come: chives, asparagus, the first deep green of the yards before the first cut, the arrival of the bobolinks, all the way from South America to this Maine hay field, so effusive in their song despite their long journey.Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-38229118608376664972011-03-24T16:49:00.000-07:002011-03-24T16:49:16.144-07:00Eliot Farmers UnionLike the Agway franchise, Farmers Unions popped up all over Maine, perhaps much of New England. There's still the Paris, Maine Farmers Union and for a time in the 1930s, the ell of our place was the site of the Eliot Farmers Union...a store to sell goods of all kinds from area farms, including the apples and wool from the Staples family who lived in the house and operated the EFU. <br />
It is not hard to imagine that the EFU did a brisk business as Route 236 back then was a railway and depot located on the other side of the field. We have receipts showing that EFU actually took delivery of goods for the railroad. Perhaps when the train sat at the depot, the engineer or conductor was met by one of the Staples with an order of hot food and goods.<br />
In honor of that time, we call this place Union Farm.<br />
The industrious and successful John and Rose Staples lived here, where they ran a huge dairy farm, a quite productive apple orchard, raised sheep and therefore sold wool and lamb. Four children were born in the upstairs bedroom we now occupy. The three Staples cousins who sold us the farm bequeathed many old photos of their family pile, including a fading sepia one of John Staples standing next to two gargantuan oxen he raised from birth. Another depicts a flock of sheep lazing under a copse of densely leafed apple trees. We even have a photo of the house and barn with the Staples family standing in the driveway -- John and Rose, two daughters and two sons (who would build their own houses across the street) -- with a sheep dog and horse. At the edge of the photo is the edge of a second barn, long gone.<br />
All of the doors in this house, with the exception of a formal, never used front door facing Depot Road, face the driveway. One of the Staples cousins remember this side of the house was called the Door Yard. All doors led to the barn and work. In the basement the vestige of a summer hearth crumbles, a testament to all day cooking, no matter the season, that kept the farm functioning.<br />
The attic is partially walled indicating a bunk house at one time, much needed to accommodate the apple harvesters. There are three staircases inside our home, and like the front door, the best staircase, rising from the foyer just off the formal front door, is in pristine condition. The Staples, even in their advanced years, preferred to use the much narrower staircases from the kitchen to master bedroom (better for Rose to pop down the steps at dawn to start breakfast for family and farm hands) and the one from the front parlor to a back bedroom. An ingenious Yankee blueprint emphasizing efficiency that also preserved the fancier bits at the front of the house.<br />
A front porch was added to the driveway side of the house in the 1940s. It's sagging, the screens need replacing but still no better place to perch and gaze over the fields in their various incarnations, from sodden bog, to the brightest, dandelion dotted green before the first cut, to a respendent hay field, then down to stubble before the snow falls.<br />
We recently learned from a neighbor's book about the town, that the original residents of this house -- Sylvester and Clementine Bartlett -- created a diversified portfolio of businesses from this address. It is they who began the orchards. With his brother, Sylvester also operated a meat business and enjoyed much success in shipping. The Bartlett clan owned property all over the area, stemming from the lands surrounding the original garrison atop Rosemary Hill. They were prosperous, they were cunning in reaping the wealth of the valley beneath the Hill.Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1976424083940747358.post-63008085058143579632011-03-19T08:26:00.000-07:002011-03-19T08:26:28.642-07:00Mud SeasonWalking the dogs around the entire farm, for the first time since December, inspired a sense of awe. The knee high drifts of snow and ice now departed. All was muddy, sodden, yet green. Daffodils already erupting. Buds on lilacs and trees. Grackels, robins, woodcock all here. <br />
The herb garden fared well and the sage looks ready to grow into the enormous bush it became last fall. Verdant blades of chives poking through a matt of straw. The stepping stones of slate all akimbo as frost departs. Winter mosses already on the crawl.<br />
The dogs inspected their usual haunts. Sadie sniffed the two still standing Brussel Sprouts stalks, which she regularly poaches in fall, while Sofie lingered at the fence where the green beans grow. These two canines are adept harvesters. Sadie even eats the berries off of the crab apple, digs out parsnips and nibbles on strawberris. Sofie loves the grape tomatoes. The only crop safe from their scavenging are the blueberry bushes.<br />
Bird song, mud, rain all herald the miraculous return of growth. Tree mosses hug elephant skinned maples. The smell of earth wafts freely, as enticing as the best perfumes of jasmine and sandalwood and ginger. The arbor promises a bouquet in two months time.Laura Popehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126907293696026907noreply@blogger.com2