Giving Tuesday: Our National and Global Day of Giving

Posted on December 1, 2014 by Patty

Give with love and receive with grace.
– Lolly Daskal, American leadership coach, speaker, consultant, and author

The promise of blooming Calla lilies in the rain.

Black Friday. Cyber Monday. Christmas advertisements and commercials before Thanksgiving Day. It’s easy to let the holiday messaging overwhelm us and dictate our lives at this time of year. As a counter to the consumerism that has overtaken the meaning of Christmas, 92nd Street Y, a culture and community center in New York City, in partnership with the United Nations Foundation, founded #GivingTuesday in 2012. 92nd Street Y has been a local community advocate for 140 years, harnessing “the power of arts and ideas to enrich, enlighten and change lives, and the power of community to change the world.” Calling itself a “catalyst,” 92nd Street Y is guided by its mission “to inspire action by bringing together today’s most exceptional thinkers and influential partners for social good.

The founding of #GivingTuesday was inspired by the core Jewish value of “tikkun olam,” which translates to “repairing the world.” Imagine if every one of us did something – no matter how big or small – to repair the world. Take a small step tomorrow. Once nourished, take another step and another yet. And keep going.

Donate, volunteer, and share your story. By giving, we celebrate generosity. By sharing our stories, we inspire one another and enlarge our hearts and our humanity.

Let’s reconvene on Friday and share what we did on Tuesday, December 2nd. Join me!

Calla lilies for #GivingTuesday.

On being thankful: flying kites, riding bikes, dancing, planting trees, and drawing

Posted on November 27, 2014 by Patty

Growing up in Cincinnati, Ohio, I drew and drew and drew and drew. Drawing was my way of making things exist which didn’t exist. And writing became a way to have my drawings interact.
– Jon J Muth, American children’s author and illustrator

The cover of Jon J Muth's book, The Three Questions.

The lovely cover of Jon J Muth’s book The Three Questions.

After my son, Jacob, had shown me one of his children’s book, The Three Questions, based on a story by Leo Tolstoy, this past weekend, as is usually the case when I am moved, I dropped what I was doing and went to the source of the book’s inspiration and went on a quest to learn more about the author, Jon J Muth. I’d forgotten, until I reread this book and Zen Shorts, another one of his books that we have, that I was dubbed the class artist throughout elementary school and had dreamed of becoming a children’s book author and illustrator when I grew up. To some extent, I still harbor those fantasies. Until then, I’ll live vicariously off of other children’s authors and illustrators whom I admire. What I learned about Muth came at a fortuitous time. Thanksgiving dinner preparation and stress aside, this is a time that, in my heart and mind, I give official thanks – as opposed to the spontaneous thanksgivings that occur often throughout the year.

I love learning about artists, whether they be visual, performing, or written word. Knowing their backstory creates a deeper appreciation and connection for me to them. Muth, who started out as an American comic book artist before becoming an award-winning children’s book writer and illustrator, was primarily raised by his great- grandmother, who was in her 70s when he was a child. His parents were pursuing their careers as teachers and he routinely woke up after they had already left the house. (His mother, an art teacher, took him to museums all over the country.) His great- grandmother walked him to school a mile away and walked him home afterwards. They walked the three miles to the grocery store together. He only had one hour in the evenings with his parents. These experiences shaped his imagination, which you can see in his work, especially when you hear him talk about his memories as a child. He found an outlet for those memories and childhood imagination – lucky for us. In one story, he thought if he could ride his tricycle as fast as he could around the cherry tree in his backyard, he could lift himself up and float around the top of the tree. In the second story, the one time that his great-grandmother couldn’t pick him up from school a leaf followed him home. These whimsical stories made me miss those years when my kids told equally magical stories to help them make sense of the world around them, to empower them in a world that is at once enormous, scary, enchanting, and full of possibilities. After all, that’s what stories do. That’s why storytellers exist.

Jon J Muth, 2011, photo by Stuart Ramson.

The Birth of the writer and artist
In an interview, Muth discussed his evolution from creating comic books to writing and illustrating children’s books, saying, “A sense of joy is what moved me from comic books to picture books. My work in children’s books grew out of a desire to explore what I was feeling as a new father.” Not unlike many of us, Muth said he was “poorly prepared to be a father” and “overwhelmed,” but that he underwent a “personal, spiritual experience.” He noted, “I felt completely responsible for this little being. As his custodian, I wanted to make the world a better place.” Muth acknowledged that this act is somewhat universal, but how he handled it as an artist was not.

“Growing up as an artist, it’s a selfish profession. Your job description is you, you, you. It’s the sense of how the world works and suddenly it’s not about me. It’s about someone else, and by extension it’s about everyone else. That was my experience of it,” he said. For 20 years, through his work in comic books, Muth explored the theme of young man and adult full of angst about the absurdities of life but without the sense of responsibility to address those absurdities. Then Muth read the Tolstoy story that Vietnamese monk Thich Nat Hanh retold in one of his books. “When I read it in his book, it just was like this little deep-laid dynamite charge going off, and I thought, I want to give this to my son. I want to give this to children. But they can’t have to wait to understand Czarist Russia to be able to work with it. That’s how that story [The Three Questions] started for me,” he said. “That was a kind of major turning point where I thought I’d be able to explore the things that are really important to me now in this medium and I’m really amazed and happy that the children’s book world has had room for me.”

A scene from Zen Shorts by Jon J Muth, which reminds me of his childhood story about rising above the cherry tree.

Wisdom at any age
Muth tackled his book’s weighty subject matter without reservation. “I think children are intuitively capable of grasping wisdom as readily as adults are,” he said. “There’s the kind of practical wisdom that we encounter every day that children need to know about. They need to know that …. if you put your hand on a hot stove you’re going to be burned. They need to figure out how the world works, so they look to us to know how that works. It’s very important for us to impart this practical wisdom. I also think that we have an opportunity to offer up what I call ‘prudential’ wisdom – it’s a sense of your relationship to those things that you can’t change, and sometimes it manifests as a spiritual wisdom or a spiritual teaching. Zen Shorts seemed like a perfect place to offer these stories.

“It’s very important to me not to offer something that’s going to inoculate them from their own experience,” Muth went on. “I want children to recognize that what they’re actually going through is valuable. Their experience of something is important to the way they’re going to look at the world. It would not work if the stories were more didactic. They need to be offered in such a way that kids can take them or leave them, and perhaps if they don’t understand something, return to it.”

I feel that returning to the story again and again is something quite important for children. So does Muth. “I’ve actually had that happen a bunch where kids will maybe come to the story first of all just because it’s a giant panda, but then return to it because it’s created a kind of itch in their mind and they can’t quite understand it or it actually, it flies in the face of what they think,” Muth related. “By returning to it and considering it and mulling it over, they have a chance to come to a new understanding of how things are.”

Muth’s prayer
One of the loveliest things you will find on a webpage about him is a link to a prayer. Muth’s watercolor shows two children – a blond-haired girl and a dark-skinned boy – sitting against a backdrop of an ethereal world of oceans and wispy clouds. They are cutting out a string of connected paper dolls from one end of the canvas to the other. And scattered about the canvas is this prayer:
i am the son of a mother who’s lighting a candle beneath a photograph of a new york city firehouse
i am the daughter of a man who hijacked a plane in the name of allah
i am the palestinian boy whose father was killed by israeli gunfire.
i am the soldier who shot him.
i am the jewish girl whose brother was killed by a palestinaian while eating pizza in a mall.
i am the father in America who must protect this great country and this great way of life.
i am the daughter who jumped from the burning world trade center holding my friend’s hand.
i am the orphaned afghani boy who lives in a refugee camp.
i am the woman who led the preschoolers away from fire and falling buildings.
i am the firefighter who saved your wife.
these are the ten thousand reasons to kiss your parents each day, to kiss your children, to hold dear the one you are with.
you are the ocean and each of its waves.
when i reach out to touch your face i touch my own.

To fully appreciate this wonderful prayer and watercolor, please go to the link on this blog. This condensed version is just to whet your appetite and seek it out.

What it means to be alive
In variations on a theme, he has listed in various interviews through the years his favorite things to do – flying kites, riding bikes, dancing, and planting trees with his wife and four children. In his biography, he offers: “He is astonished at his good fortune.” It’s a stunningly humble assertion. He obviously worked hard all those years and works very hard now at what he does. He’s grateful to be able to do what he loves for a living, for the better part of his day. It’s not really good fortune, although he does point to coming into situations that have opened up windows and doors for him, but what’s wonderful is the sense of feeling lucky and the acknowledgement of astonishment. To be astonished is to be vibrantly alive.Therefore, one can happily be thankful for being able to do all those wonderful things with one’s family and to be continually astonished. As an artist, Muth says, “When I am painting in the right state of mind, my hand disappears, the brush disappears, the paint stops being paint, and all that exists is the thing that’s becoming. I am all of those things at one time.” This is living fully in the moment and being awash in awe.

And the other wonderful thing about Muth? He planted a tree, had a child, and wrote a book. My spiritual connection. Many thanks on this day of thanks.

Tolstoy’s three questions: a timeless parable

Posted on November 25, 2014 by Patty

The hero of my tale, whom I love with all the power of my soul, whom I have tried to portray in all his beauty, who has been, is, and will be beautiful, is Truth.
– Leo Tolstoy, from Sevastopol in May, 1855

Leo Tolstoy, photograph by Sergey Prokudin-Gorsky, 1908.

Leo Tolstoy, a wonderful and rare color photograph by Sergey Prokudin-Gorsky, 1908.

One of the chores my kids have to finish before David’s family descends upon our home for Thanksgiving is to clean their rooms, particularly clearing off their floors so that their cousins have a place to set up their air beds. While cleaning his room over the weekend, my son, Jacob, brought to me a children’s book that we used to read when the kids were much younger: “Remember this book, Mom?” he said with a smile. My face lit up! We read this picture book every evening during one magical stretch of time. We three loved it – for its beautiful watercolor illustrations and its big-hearted message, which was intuitively grasped by my kids, evidenced by the wonder in their eyes and their requests to have it read again and again.

The Three Questions, based on a story by Leo Tolstoy, was written and illustrated by Jon J Muth and published in 2002. The children’s book took its cue from a short story Tolstoy published in 1885 as part of his collection What Men Live By, and other tales. Tolstoy’s parable involves a king who believed that if he knew the answers to three questions he would be successful at anything he attempted. His questions were: When is the right time to do the right thing, or when is the best time to do each thing? Who are the people I most need, and to whom, therefore, should I pay more attention to than the rest, or who are the most important people to work with? What affairs are the most important and need my attention first, or what is the most important thing to do at all times?

Tolstoy’s king announces a reward to anyone who can come up with the right answers, but he is besieged by myriad responses from learned men across his kingdom. Confused and dissatisfied, the king seeks out a hermit who is known for his wisdom. Because the hermit only sees common folk and never leaves the woods, the king dresses as a peasant and leaves his bodyguard and horse at a certain point in the woods on his journey to the hermit’s dwelling. He finds the frail hermit digging in his yard. The king poses his questions, but the hermit keeps digging. Finally, the king realizes that the hermit is exhausted from digging and offers to dig for the hermit. The king digs two beds and again poses the questions to the hermit. The hermit merely responds by telling the king to take a break. The king refuses and keeps digging until the sun begins to set. Irritated, the king sets down the spade and declares that if the hermit is not going to respond the king will return home.

At that moment, the hermit spies a man running toward them who is bleeding heavily from a stomach wound. The king tends to the man, stanching the flow of blood, until his situation stabilizes after several hours. Exhausted and with night descending, the king falls asleep in the hermit’s home. In the morning, the wounded man admits to the king that he knows the king’s identity and in fact was on a mission to assassinate him, laying in wait for his return to the woods, because the king had his brother executed and his property confiscated. After impatiently waiting and no sign of the king, the man had come out from hiding, only to be attacked by the king’s bodyguard. The man was able to run away, but was bleeding to death. Now with his life having been saved, the man swears his and his sons’ allegiance to the king.

Painting of Leo Tolstoy by Ilya Repin, 1891.

Shocked, the king is nevertheless relieved to have made a friend out of an enemy and pledges to have his physician look after the man. He then seeks out the hermit, who is sowing seeds in the plowed beds, and again poses his questions, requesting answers for the last time. The hermit replies that the king’s questions have already been answered: If the king hadn’t helped the hermit dig the soil, he would have gone back into the woods and been killed by his assassin. “So the most important time was when you were digging the beds; and I was the most important man; and to do me good was your most important business,” the hermit responds.

“Afterwards when that man ran to us, the most important time was when you were attending to him, for if you had not bound up his wounds he would have died without having made peace with you. So he was the most important man, and what you did for him was your most important business,” the hermit goes on.

“Remember then: there is only one time that is important – Now! It is the most important time because it is the only time when we have any power. The most necessary man is he with whom you are, for no man knows whether he will ever have dealings with any one else: and the most important affair is, to do him good, because for that purpose alone was man sent into this life,” the hermit concludes.

Close-up of painting of Leo Tolstoy by Ilya Repin, 1901.

Jon Muth’s beautifully illustrated tale posed these questions: When is the best time to do things? Who is the most important one? What is the right thing to do? The protagonist, the king, is recast as a boy named Nikolai, who hangs out with three friends, all of whom have distinct personalities – a heron named Sonya, a dog named Pushkin, and a monkey named Gogol, who was a memorable character for Jacob because he was playful and carefree. The three friends try to help Nikolai come up with answers, answers that matched their animal personalities. Nikolai decides to seek counsel from Leo, the wise old turtle who lives in the mountains. Instead of an assassin, as in Tolstoy’s tale, Nikolai attends to a momma panda whose leg is injured when a fierce storm fells nearby trees, and later rescues her baby, who was lost in the forest.

Muth once said, “I think children are intuitively capable of grasping wisdom as readily as adults are.” So true. He effortlessly combined his studies of Zen with his ode to Tolstoy to bring to children the importance of compassion and living in the moment. Leo the old turtle tells Nikolai: “Remember then that there is only one important time, and that time is now. The most important one is always the one you are with. And the most important thing is to do good for the one who is standing at your side. For these, my dear boy, are the answers to what is most important in this world. This is why we are here.”

After Jacob let me borrow his book, I researched the Tolstoy story and reread Muth’s book. The wonder returned. The deeper story resonated deep within me, just as it did for me and Jacob and Isabella: That’s why we are here.

The Gratitude Challenge: 7 days of thoughtful gratitude

Posted on September 30, 2014 by Patty

Piglet noticed that even though he had a Very Small Heart, it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude.
– A.A. Milne, English author and poet, from Winnie the Pooh

I got on Facebook to help promote my writing, but I soon discovered that it connected me with friends both near and far-flung, friends from my deep past to recent acquaintances. I rarely participate in the chain-letter-type activities that make the rounds on Facebook. I read about the Gratitude Challenge being taken on by a number of friends and was soon nominated by my good friend Laurel Kallenbach. With my participation now concluded, I share my seven days of gratitude here on my blog.

Day 1 – baseball is life, life is baseball
Thank you, Laurel Kallenbach, for nominating me for the Gratitude Challenge. I was nominated to list 3 things I’m grateful for every day for a week and nominate 3 people each day to do the same. Today, September 21st, is my first day (baseball gratitude theme) and I nominate Jack Beaudoin, Kara De La Paz, and Cecie Uytingco Mendoza.

1. I am grateful for David, who told me to go ahead and go to the baseball game today and he would do the tons of laundry and cleaning today and watch Isabella and her friend Kelly.

2. I am grateful for Jacob, who said, “Mom, I want to go to the game with you.” (Because David and Isabella didn’t want to.) I’m grateful that he still wants to spend time with me, even though he’s a teenager, and that we have more meaningful conversations and discussions.

3. I am grateful that my last regular-season Oakland A’s game that I attended this year ended with a win, which allowed us to celebrate with the crazy right-field bleacher loyal fans. “Never Quit” and “Keep Fighting”

Spontaneous partners in crime: our friends Robert and his son, Sasha, join us in cheering the 10th-inning walk-off home run win.

Spontaneous partners in crime: our friends Robert and his son, Sasha, join us in the right-field bleachers. At the moment all seems glum, but soon we will be cheering the 10th-inning walk-off home run by Josh Donaldson, aka The Bringer of Rain (Photo credit: Mike DeMay – thanks, Mike!).

Day 2 – labor day
I was nominated to list 3 things I’m grateful for every day for a week and nominate 3 people each day to do the same. Today, September 22nd, is Day 2 (Work gratitude theme, appropriately for a Monday) and I nominate Gordon Hunt, Eric Wicklund, and Diana Manos for the Gratitude Challenge.

1. I’m grateful to have great, hardworking colleagues around me to get the job done. Even though I work remotely, I am part of a great team who appreciates and supports what I do.

2. I’m grateful to work at home and be there for my kids – like the time both had pneumonia two winters ago, separate times, of course, and both were out of school for two weeks each. Did not have to eat up vacation days. Working at home also allows me to walk Isabella to school every morning.

3. I’m especially grateful for my geriatric companion, Rex, who keeps me company in the nearby library. While he’s not a great personal assistant, at least he sleeps most of the day and lets me get my work done. I can’t imagine my work day without him.

Rex ready for a Monday morning.

Day 3 – supporting our public schools
I was nominated to list 3 things I’m grateful for every day for a week and nominate 3 people each day to do the same. Today, September 23rd, is Day 3 (school gratitude) and I nominate Juliet Jamsheed, Daniel Philippe, and Denise Portello Evans.

1. I attended my first Investing in Academic Excellence meeting at El Cerrito High School last night, and I’m really excited to help this important organization raise funds for various school initiatives. I am grateful for the ECHS families who are working really hard for the school – the new families I’m meeting and the good friends whom I’ve known for years and whose end of journey together is less than four years away. I’m grateful that Jacob is off to a great start as a freshman there and has some inspirational teachers and a solid principal.

2. I am grateful for the two years we concluded at Portola Middle School (Korematsu now). We had two really wonderful teachers who have made a lasting impression on Jacob and a hardworking principal. Looking forward to returning there next year, in the new campus.

3. We are finishing up 10 years at Harding Elementary School this year. While I’m excited about finally leaving elementary school, I am forever grateful for the inspirational teachers and the many wonderful families and friends I’ve met and worked with on behalf of the school. I’ve made life-long friends and I’ve watched some pretty special kids grow up with my kids.

A Harding tradition: getting families together for a potluck after the last day of school. Here with friends Tana and Lori after our kids finished up fifth grade, celebrating at Arlington Park.

A Harding Elementary School tradition: getting families together for a potluck after the last day of school. Here with friends Tana and Lori, watching our kids, who finished fifth grade, play at Arlington Park this past June.

Day 4 – or purpose in life: giving back
I was nominated to list 3 things I’m grateful for every day for a week and nominate 3 people each day to do the same. I just read an article on Melinda Gates and her work with the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation and was inspired by her desire to make the world better. Today, September 24th, is Day 4 (giving and helping others theme) and I nominate Anja Hakoshima, Kimi Ynigues, and Kathy Brackett.

1. I am grateful for the work that my friend Jane Fischberg and her colleagues do at Rubicon Programs, whose mission is to “prepare low-income people to achieve financial independence and to partner with people with mental illness on their journey of recovery.” Especially in this current political climate, supporting both groups is not very popular, making their work even more challenging. But my friend Jane has a big heart and strong resolve. In an interview with me, she said, “I really do believe in giving back and I feel like a life of not giving back is not fulfilling. I’ve always felt the reason for living is to be of service, so that informed what I’ve always done.”

2. I am grateful for the work that my friend Alissa Hauser and her colleagues do at The Pollination Project, whose mission is to “expand compassion to the planet, people, and animals.” The Pollination Project’s mission aligns with Alissa’s philosophy: “What I’m most committed to is creating more kindness and compassion in the world,” she said. “There are so many ways to do it; there are so many ways I have done it. But at the end of the day, I just want to be a person who inspires other people to be nice to one another, no matter who they are or what they’ve done.”

3. I am grateful for my daughter, Isabella, who also has a big heart. She and her friends have baked cookies and made lemonade to sell at various parks to raise money for the Milo Foundation. She talks about wanting to save endangered animals, rescuing dogs from being put down, saving the earth from the harm that we do to it, and more. I want to continue nurturing in her that desire of giving and helping others.

Isabella and her friends have been selling cookies and lemonade for the Milo Foundation.

Day 5 – our Indian summer fall
I was nominated to list 3 things I’m grateful for every day for a week and nominate 3 people each day to do the same. Today, September 25th, is Day 5 (Nature theme) and I nominate Rose Cee, David Bruce-Casares, and Claire Richardson.

1. I am grateful for the rain that woke me up early this morning. While we have a long way to go to erase California’s drought, it’s a start, an early one at that.

2. I am grateful for the maple leaves changing color, announcing autumn’s return. The display is definitely not as spectacular as the leaves changing in the Northeast or other parts of the country, but all I need is a golden ginkgo and a flaming red and orange maple tree and I’m ready to celebrate one of my favorite seasons.

3. I am grateful for the small resurgence of my garden, which was stricken with powdery mildew in late July and pretty much petered out and left me with charred buds and dried-out sticks. However, with our Indian summer in full force, the carnations, fuschia, scabiosas, and poppies are bursting from their pots – a final send-off and blast of cream, purple, pink, red and white ripples.

Indian summer autumn bouquet.

Day 6 – TGIF
I was nominated to list 3 things I’m grateful for every day for a week and nominate 3 people each day to do the same. Today, September 26th, is Day 6 (TGIF theme) and I nominate John Buettner, Julie Redlin, and Maria Francesca.

1. I am grateful for my pumpkin-spiced chai latte that gets me through the mornings. My day starts on East coast time, so by the time I sit down to eat my breakfast and begin work again, I have already gone through my work e-mail and immediate, deadline-oriented work tasks, done my exercises and ridden my bike, walked Rex, and dropped off Isabella at school. The moment I settle into my office chair and sip my chai latte, I literally catch my second wind.

2. I am grateful for the mellow glass of red wine that will help me unwind in the evening. It’s something I look forward to when Friday evening hits and the work week is behind me.

3. I am grateful for a quiet Friday evening, watching the A’s win and now enjoying the rest of the fall evening with David and Isabella.

Even Rex is chillin’ on an autumn Friday evening.

Day 7 – a writer’s heart-felt thank you
I was nominated to list 3 things I’m grateful for every day for a week and nominate 3 people each day to do the same. Today, September 27th, is my last day, Day 7 (writer’s gratitude), and I nominate Yoko Morita, Alex Davis, and Nancy Donovan.

1. I am grateful for discovering and embracing the written word and the many gifts it brings – the sentence that dances, the character who enrages you, the places you can taste and touch, the moment created that brings you to a moment of truth in your past, the page that keeps you turning it, the book that leaves you bereft because the magic has ended.

2. I am grateful for the community of writers I have met throughout my life and call my friends, mentors, fellow writers, and careful readers – you know who you are, but a special shout out to Jack Beaudoin, Laurel Kallenbach, John Farrell, and Sands Hall.

3. I am grateful for my non-writer friends and family who have nurtured me in so many different ways – as careful readers, muses, emotional supporters, and more – you know who you are, too, but a special shout out to Kathy Brackett and David, always.

John, me, and Jack with our “author poses” at the Orange Grove, Syracuse University, 1990.

This exercise made me realize how many things, events, and people I am grateful for every day but oftentimes in the rush of the day I don’t reflect fully or give appropriate props. I’ll remember this challenge and remind myself every evening, during a quiet moment before I retire for the night, to look back on my day and give gratitude. Thanks again, Laurel, for the nomination!

In praise of a good story – both reading one and writing one (door sign given to me by my college and good friend Susie Merrill many, many moons ago, which still holds a prominent place in my office).

Philly museums: Rodin, fine art, and Dr. Albert Barnes

Posted on September 1, 2014 by Patty

Living with and studying good paintings offers greater interest, variety, and satisfaction than any other pleasure known to man.
– Albert C. Barnes, physician, chemist, businessman, art collector, writer, educator, and founder of the Barnes Foundation

A trip to any city is not complete without exploring its fine art museums. Philadelphia is blessed with many, and we were fortunate to view and admire the many famous paintings, sculptures, and other objets d’art housed within the city’s museums.

Looking at the front of the Barnes Museum from the side.

The Barnes Foundation
We weren’t allowed to take pictures inside the Barnes Foundation, which was established in 1922 to “promote the appreciation of the fine arts.” Founder Dr. Albert C. Barnes (1872-1951) grew up poor in working-class Philadelphia. He eventually earned his medical degree in at the University of Pennsylvania and made his money partnering to set up a pharmaceutical manufacturer. In 1908, he bought out his partner and launched the A.C. Barnes Company. His company produced Argyrol, an antiseptic silver compound that was used to treat gonorrhea and served as a preventative of gonorrheal blindness in newborns. Argyrol preceded the advent of antibiotics. The pharmaceutical company made him rich, and he sold his company months before the crash of 1929 to focus on his art collection and educational activities.

David catches us reflecting before entering the Barnes Foundation.

He began seriously buying art in 1912, relying on former schoolmate, painter William J. Glackens, to advise him and purchase artwork in Paris on his behalf. Barnes educated his factory workers, setting up reading and discussion programs on topics that included aesthetics and art criticism. With encouragement from his friend John Dewey at Columbia University, he established his foundation. He collected one of the world’s most important holdings of post-impressionist and early modern paintings, including works by Cezanne, Matisse, Picasso, and Renoir, and snagged major works by van Gogh, Rousseau, and Modigliani. He also purchased African sculpture, Pennsylvania German furniture, Native American ceramics, jewelry, and textiles, American paintings, Mediterranean and Asian antiquities, and wrought iron objects from Europe and the United States. He presented his collection as ensembles, carefully and purposefully arranged across several galleries.

Trees scattered around the Barnes Foundation.

Rows of trees bordering the Barnes Foundation.

The original site of the Barnes Foundation was at the Merion campus, where in 1922 Barnes commissioned Paul Philippe Cret to design the gallery, administration building, and residence amid a 12-acre arboretum. The current museum is at 2025 Benjamin Franklin Parkway (215.278.7100). Barnes’s collection was incredible, and I’m thankful that my local Philly friends recommended that I put it on our itinerary. The building itself is beautiful and it’s on the way to the Rodin Museum and the Philadelphia Museum of Art. My sister Heidi recommended the documentary, The Art of the Steal (2009), which chronicles the battle for the control of Barnes’s $25 billion collection. After his death, despite his will stipulating that his art not be divided and sold off, the Philadelphia Museum of Art took control of part of his collection.

The entrance to the Rodin Museum.

The Thinker at the museum’s front gate.

Another outdoor sculpture gracing the garden.

The Gates of Hell sculpture at the entrance of the museum. Many of Rodin’s standalone sculptures are modeled after the figures in these gates.

The Rodin Museum
Hailed as “the greatest collection of sculpture by August Rodin (1840-1917) outside of Paris,” the Rodin Museum (2154 Benjamin Franklin Parkway, Philadelphia, PA 19130, 215.763.8100), designed by French architect Paul Cret (1876-1945), opened in 1929. The “intimately scaled” museum, which has been newly restored, boasts Beaux-Arts architecture and is surrounded by French landscape designer Jacques Greber’s (1882-1962) formal French garden. Philadelphia native Jules E. Mastbaum, who was an entrepreneur and philanthropist, gifted his Rodin collection and founded the museum. The City responded, with more than 390,000 visitors its first year, enjoying Rodin’s sculptures both inside the museum and in the gardens. This is a beautiful museum all the way around – manageable and not overwhelming, with Rodin’s work nicely displayed.

The main gallery shows off the museum’s Beaux-Arts architecture.

Assemblage of Heads of "The Burghers of Calais," plaster 1926.

Assemblage of Heads of “The Burghers of Calais,” in plaster, 1926.

Andromeda, in marble, 1886.

Philadelphia Museum of Art
The Philadelphia Museum of Art is among the largest museums in the country, with more than 2,000 years of more than 227,000 paintings, sculptures, works on paper, photography, decorative arts, textiles, and architectural settings from Asia, Europe, Latin America, and the U.S. Rocky Balboa, from the movie Rocky made the steps leading up to the museum famous with his spirited sprint to the top and fist-waving before the view of the City. The museum is massive and we tried to see as many galleries as we could.

Outside the Greek Revival-style Philadelphia Museum of Art.

Detail from the Washington Monument at Eakins Oval, in front of the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

A special exhibit on Frank Gehry's vision for the museum.

The kids check out the special exhibit on Frank Gehry’s vision for the museum.

Today, actually, is the last day of special exhibit “Making a Classic Modern: Frank Gehry’s Master Plan for the Philadelphia Museum of Art,” which highlights internationally celebrated architect Frank Gehry’s vision for the renewal and expansion of the museum. Gehry is known for his “expressive sculptural forms of buildings,” including the Guggenheim Museum in Balboa, Spain. The exhibit includes a video of Gehry talking about his vision and large-scale models showing cross sections of the reimagined museum, which he and his team have been working on since 2006. The museum is currently raising funds to build it, which could take years.

Prestidigitator (Conjuring Trick), 1927, oil and watercolor on fabric, Paul Klee (Swiss, 1879-1940).

The Kiss (1916, limestone) by Constantin Brancusi (French, born Romania, 1876-1957).

The Kiss, 1916, limestone, by Constantin Brancusi (French, born in Romania, 1876-1957).

Portrait (Dulcinea), 1911, oil on canvas, Marcel Duchamp (American, born France, 1887-1968).

Portrait (Dulcinea), 1911, oil on canvas, Marcel Duchamp (American, born in France, 1887-1968).

The view from the top of the stairs of the museum, looking at City Hall from one end of Benjamin Franklin Parkway to the other.

Philly architecture

Posted on August 27, 2014 by Patty

Among the most noted public institutions… is [the] Public Buildings [City Hall], we have told but little of the gigantic marble pile itself bearing this designation. It is, in truth, Philadelphia’s modern architectural moment – the largest edifice for municipal purposes in the world. Its tower, when completed, will rank as the third highest edifice in the world, the Washington Monument and the Eiffel Tower at Paris being the other and taller structures. Certainly no city in the United States has anything to show in comparison with it.
– regarding the first stone of the foundation of City Hall, laid on August 12, 1872, from Illustrated Philadelphia, Its Wealth and Industries, 2nd ed. (1889), pp. 96-97

Cloud, sky, and National Mechanics building on S. Third Street, Old City District.

The first settlers arrived in the Philadelphia area in the 17th century and lived in log dwellings. By the 18th century, bricks replaced logs as building materials. Georgian architecture – boxy, 1-2 stories, symmetrical, paneled front door in the center of the building, multi-paned rectangular windows, and decorative moldings – became the norm. But it shared the cityscape with Federal style, which is characterized by plain, smooth, and flat surfaces and rarely used pilasters.

The front of the National Mechanics Building.

Thomas Jefferson introduced Greek Revival to the U.S., and its influence was seen in buildings built in the beginning of the 19th century. As its name implies, Greek Revival imitated Greek designs and ornamented details. Majestic facades, porticoes, and heavy pilasters graced buildings of this time period. In the latter half of the 19th century, Victorian architecture prevailed.

Column detail.

David and I enjoy taking note of the different types of architecture that we see when we visit other cities and other parts of the country. We both like to photograph them as we wander around the city. I found the city’s architecture charming and I loved turning a corner in the Old City District and seeing a historic building or a row of older homes. Here’s a little sample of favorite architectural photos.