Flamenco for building strong, confident girls and women – ole!

Posted on April 22, 2013 by Patty

To dance is to be out of yourself. Larger, more beautiful, more powerful . . . . This is power, it is glory on earth and it is yours for the taking.
– Agnes De Mille, American dancer and choreographer

: My friend Tana (on the left in turquoise and black) performing her group’s flamenco dance (photo credit: Kim Schartz).

My daughter has been taking flamenco classes for the last five years – since she was in kindergarten – through our school’s after-school enrichment program, thanks to our good friend Tana Hakanson, who brought her flamenco teacher to the program. I have always admired this dance form because of its energy, rhythm, complexity, and – to paraphrase Tana’s reason for her love of flamenco – its ability to convey such strength and confidence, which is really important for girls to gain at a young age. She and her fellow classmates, and the rest of her instructor’s troupe, performed at the International House on Cal Day at UC Berkeley this past Saturday. Many other groups danced, but flamenco brought the house down. In fact, every time I’ve attended their performances as part of a multi-cultural dance program in other venues, flamenco gets the audiences clapping and smiling. It is, after all, a dance that invites and thrives on the audience’s participation. And you can’t help but admire the difficulty of the footwork and foot speed, and the guitar, which can also be frenetic, and the soulful, passionate singing – cante flamenco – which is, in fact, the heart and soul of genre.

Flamenco is both graceful and strong (photo credit: Kim Schartz).

David and I spent our honeymoon in Spain, a destination decided upon when one of our colleagues from our Madrid office – many years and jobs ago for me – offered his congratulations and his second home on the Costa del Sol for our honeymoon upon learning of our engagement. We met up with our gracious host and his wife in Madrid and got our fill of the wonderful museums, including, of course, the Prado. We drove to the Costa del Sol, enjoyed the sun in the afternoons. We relaxed in Granada, admiring the Palacio de Generalife and the Alhambra. In Barcelona, we marveled at Gaudi‘s architectural wonders, particularly the Sagrada Familia.

Plaza Espana in Parque Maria Luisa, Sevilla, Spain, September 1998.

And yet, my favorite city in Spain was and still is Sevilla. There is something other-worldly about its lush palm trees, river life, thick heat, and Moorish history and architecture. We stayed in a quaint hotel with the rooms overlooking the tiled courtyard. We got tickets to see a flamenco show and were treated to a marathon performance so intense, we could see the sweat flying off of the male dancer’s long hair. I remembered being so overwhelmed by their energy and their ability to move their feet so quickly and expertly while their faces were serene and yet passionate and in command.

On the fashion front, I love the full, swishy skirts, the bold and colorful flowers in the slicked-back and swept-up hairstyles, the long-fringed and equally colorful, floral shawls – worn with the corners pinned in front or wrapped around so that the designs are shown in front – the seductive fans, the dangling statement earrings, the castanets, and, of course, the simple but strong-silhouetted flamenco shoes. I love how the dresses and skirts can be so unique and yet together the outfits complement one another. You don’t have to be a flamenco dancer to try components of this style (just not all at once or else it comes off costumey)!

If I were going to Sevilla in the spring, I’d wear this comfortable outfit. Straw hat, colorful top, and bold sandals are required elements.

I greatly admire Tana’s commitment to flamenco, and I enjoy watching her dance and helping the girls with their form. The girls are very lucky to have such a unique dance class available to them at their age. And while I would love to take it up in the copious spare time I don’t have, I strongly recommend flamenco to women who want to be strong for themselves and for moms who wish to instill those traits in their daughters. Ole!

Bright fiesta colors are complemented by gold jewelry – earrings from Lava 9 in Berkeley and dragonfly necklace by Alkemie of Los Angeles. A golden smile, though, is always the strongest accessory.

Dallas Museum of Art: Art Matters

Posted on April 19, 2013 by Patty

Art is really about how someone else makes sense of the world and their place in it…the viewer connects with the artist in such a way that the two agree to share their humanity, their hopes, their fears.
– Robert Hoffman, art philanthropist

My Omni Hotel room with a view of downtown Dallas.

I flew into Dallas yesterday late afternoon for a morning executive roundtable event to cover and will be hopping on a plane to go back home in the afternoon – a very short business trip. It was fortuitous that I flew out on a Thursday because the Dallas Museum of Art (1717 North Harwood Street, 214.922.1200) is open until 9pm on this day of the week. It was a short walk from the Omni Hotel to the museum district, and a much-needed one after a bumpy descent and landing.

Cindy Sherman: Self-portrait of women
in society
DMA offers free general admission, which is really a gift. Admission to the two exhibits currently on display, Cindy Sherman (through June 9) and Chagall: Beyond Color (the only U.S. venue, through May 26), were $16, which is a bargain in the museum world. I will admit that I didn’t know who Cindy Sherman is, though she is “widely recognized as one of the most important contemporary artists of the last 40 years, and is arguably the most influential artist working exclusively with photography.” Throughout her career, Sherman has taken self-portraits that are a commentary on women in society. She is known for a series of black-and-white self-portraits called “Untitled Film Stills,” in which she portrays herself as various B-grade film characters – the vamp, the housewife, the actress, and so on. The exhibition included a series of recreations of her in famous paintings, as well as a series of beyond-life-size portrayals of the one-percent women in their wealthy splendor. It reminded me a little of Diane Arbus, who is famous for having taken photographs of “marginal” people in our society, because I came away from this exhibit feeling spooked and discomforted, which I’m sure Sherman would feel is a compliment to her art.

Dallas Museum of Art.

Marc Chagall: Way beyond color
I’m familiar with Marc Chagall, but seeing his paintings in person has given me a greater appreciation for his sense of color. Indeed, Picasso once said in the 1950s that when Matisse died, Chagall would be the only painter who understood what color really is. Chagall’s intense reds and blues have a life of their own. I sheepishly admit that I didn’t know Chagall did costume and set decorations for plays and ballets, both in his native Russia after the turn of the century and in New York City during WWII. I also didn’t know that he turned to pottery and collage later in his long career as another way to express himself. One quote of his was particularly moving to me: “Every artist has a homeland, a native town, and though other environments and spheres will exert their influence on him, he will remain forever marked by an essential trait: The scent of his homeland will always live in his work.” I was particularly drawn to his “Nude over Vitebsk.”

Quin Matthews and Sharon Benge share stories of their interviews at the DMA.

Art really does matter
I had the good luck to be in town on this particular Thursday. Locals Quin Matthews and Sharon Benge presented a 45-minute montage of interviews they had conducted with actors, writers, painters, sculptors, musicians, conductors, architects, dancers, and so on for their Art Matters radio show, a local show aired on WRR Classical 101, which debuted in October 1988. They are donating their more than 25,000 interviews and 100 hours of film spanning 25 years of covering the arts to DMA. One of DMA’s executives noted that it’s the single largest media gift, and DMA intends to make these available and searchable on the web so that these historic treasures are accessible to everyone. Stay tuned. (Attendees were given free CDs of interviews with various artists, which I look forward to hearing!)

Glass sculptures at the DMA.

I’ll share a few inspiring quotes that I got out of the snippets of interviews that were included in the montage. First of all, Quin Matthews is a filmmaker who devotes his life to telling stories. What I noticed right away in the interviews was that he is a good editor. He knew what to keep and what to leave on the cutting floor. It truly is an art to edit – what you leave out is just as important as what you show. How lucky for Matthews and Benge to have spent a quarter century learning about all of these artists and recording the artists’ own words for prosperity. And how lucky for their listeners through the years and now for everyone. Since college, I’ve harbored a secret desire to be a filmmaker, documentary and otherwise, as another medium for storytelling. For now, though, I’ll admire those who have really made filmmaking and storytelling an art.

Matthews and Benge didn’t just focus on local artists. They went to the ends of the world – The Czech Republic, Bolivia, China, Russia, and many other countries – to bring art to their listeners in North Texas. When I listened to the chamber choir, I was reminded of my time in choir in high school. I had forgotten how moved I could be, how my whole body responded and rejoiced when we sang Gregorian chants, Bach, even show tunes from the 1940s. I got the same shot of adrenalin and exuberance listening to classical music performed by the Dallas orchestra and other musical groups.

Happily, I was introduced to artists such as Rusty Scruby, who talked exuberantly about how math and the landscape that numbers make excited him. If you take a look at his art, you will understand how math and numbers are a part of his art. Vernon Fisher talked about how art is a way of understanding the world, how man makes maps, counts things, tries to make sense of the world, as a way to avoid death. Jean Lacey talked about how she wants people to look at art and respond. Dorothea Kelley, a musician who championed chamber music in Dallas, talked about how music can help your life by giving you joy, helping you out at times, and feeding you spiritually.

I came away from DMA nourished on a spiritual and creative level. Not a bad deal for a 36-hour business trip!

Spring break: Rejuvenating my muse

Posted on April 10, 2013 by Patty

There is no place for grief in the house which serves the Muse.
– Sappho, Greek lyric poet

A portrait of Kathy's daughter Fiona, surrounded by her mask (in frame) and vintage collection of vessels.

A portrait of Kathy’s daughter Fiona, surrounded by one of her handmade mask (in frame) and vintage collection of vessels on the desk.

On my last visit with my friend Kathy five years ago, we had talked about writing a renga together – an ancient Japanese form of poetry comprising a series of short verses linked into one long poem and composed in a collaborative fashion. When I returned to the Bay Area, she sent me detailed instructions on how to write a renga, along with a beautiful blank book. The idea was for me to start the first verse, consisting of three lines, and then send the book to her, and after she wrote her lines, she would send it back to me, and we’d start the process all over again.

The book sits on my shelf, blank. Even the band around it has never been removed. The rules of the renga seemed too complicated for me at the time, and then I was overwhelmed by my work and constant, snowballing deadlines and family obligations. When I reminded Kathy about the collaborative project, she didn’t remember. Despite the failed attempt to creatively collaborate and inspire one another, with the blame rightfully on me, this time we parted with another poetic project to dive into, though it was purely an act of spontaneity (more on this in a later blog entry). My stay with Kathy was meant partly to lift my flagging spirits and find my muse again. Little did I know that Kathy would be my muse this past weekend.

Kathy’s mural in the living room.

New music to listen to
I listen to the same limited playlist of artists – okay, mostly nostalgic bands from the 1970s and 1980s – on Pandora when I hop on my wind trainer-equipped bike in the early mornings. As the rain came down outside in Mount Vernon, we listened to what Kathy categorized as indie folk music. She introduced me to a handful of her and her son Patrick’s favorite artists via YouTube: John Butler Trio, The Decemberists, Mumford & Sons, and Zoe Keating. We were treated to John Butler’s Ocean on YouTube, and later on Skype Patrick, who had spent months learning the song, played it for us. It’s an amazing piece of music and quite the workout for the fingers.

Taking a peek inside Kathy’s homemade sketchbook.

New books to read
Kathy is a voracious reader, and through the years she has recommended books to me. She has a penchant for fantasy, and I remember some of her favorites in high school and college were The Hobbit and Richard Adams’ Watership Down. This time around, Kathy recommended poemcrazy by Susan Goldsmith Woodridge and Buffalo Yoga by Charles Wright. I was most interested, however, in Indiespensable, a membership program she belongs to through Powell’s Books. Every six weeks, she receives a newly published book, with a nod to independent publishers. The book is signed by the author, slipcovered, and accompanied by a unique surprise. One book had some connection to honey, and the book was packaged with a jar of honey. Another surprise was a box of chocolates. What a great program and a way for an indie bookstore to differentiate itself from the likes of Barnes & Noble and be just as mighty.

Steampunk-inspired wall art in Kathy’s living room.

Kathy’s latest sketchbook, which she bound by hand.

When we were at Village Books (1200 11th Street, Bellingham, 360.671.2626) a few days earlier, I relished leisurely walking through the store – something I haven’t done in years. I picked up the latest novel by Ruth Ozeki, Tale for the Time Being. It was signed and the clerk told me Ozeki had just given a reading at the store the weekend before! One of my recent favorite novels is her All Over Creation, which dealt with genetically modified organisms, among other themes. I made a vow to Kathy that I would dedicate time for reading, which means I have to schedule it, put it on my to-do list so it doesn’t get pushed aside by other pressing tasks.

Detail of the mural Kathy did for 1st Street Cabaret and Speakeasy, Mount Vernon, Washington.

The cover of Kathy’s hand-bound present to Peter.

Binding books by loving hands
Lastly, I was inspired by Kathy’s artwork, which is displayed all over her home – paper mache masks, murals, a wall hanging constructed of fiber and other mixed materials, an easel holding the early stages of a portrait of her 22-year-old daughter Fiona. She has painted murals for various community organizations and her most recent one is on display inside the 1st Street Cabaret & Speakeasy (612 S. 1st Street, Mount Vernon, 98273, 360.336.3012). Kathy took a class in book binding, and now binds her own sketchbooks. She recently finished her sixth book, which features a picture of her mother in a frame cast out of clay from another frame. She has covered other sketchbooks with thrift-shop finds – leather from old jackets and knits from sweaters, complete with the label tag on the cover. My favorite is a hollowed-out “book” she made for her husband Peter. Titled Peter’s Midnight Musings, the book features a working light, a notebook nestled in a box, and chains and gears, giving it a steampunk vibe.

The inside of the book Kathy made for her husband Peter.

I’m in awe of her talents and creative energy. My restful time in Mount Vernon seems long past, now that I’m in the middle of deadlines, soccer and baseball practices, an orthodontist appointment, tae kwondo lessons, tax season, and trying to squeeze in time for a blog. As Kathy and I hugged goodbye at the airport, my muse took a long drink from the well before diving back into my being. Refreshed, I meet those obligations head-on, muse on my shoulder.

Saying goodbye at the airport, while my muse leaps from Kathy back to me.

With sad eyes and flattened ears, Jeely, the family dog, says goodbye.

Meanwhile, back at the house in Mount Vernon, Jeely, the family dog, says goodbye with sad eyes and flattened ears.

When it rains in Bellingham, antique shops beckon

Posted on April 5, 2013 by Patty

The best mirror is an old friend.
– George Herbert, Welsh-born English poet, orator, and Anglican priest

Kathy and me, Village Book Café, Bellingham, Wash., April 2013.

The last time I saw one of my best friends from high school, Kathy, was five years ago, when my kids were seven and five years old and we spent their spring break visiting with Kathy’s family in Mount Vernon, Washington. My kids are on their spring break now, but while they are back home with David, I am on a much-needed girlfriend trip to uplift my ragged spirits. It’s been five years, but really good friends pick up the conversation as if no time or distance has separated them at all. Such is the case with Kathy and me.

The heart of Old Fairhaven in Bellingham.

We have always shared a love for books and reading, writing poetry and fiction, art, the lost art of letter writing by hand, and thoughtful conversation. That has certainly not changed. But through the years, we – Kathy earlier than I – have developed a love for vintage and antique objects. She shared with me a beautiful Art Nouveau cast-iron inkwell, which was an earthy green color, with women with flowing long hair on either side of the inkwell, and the trademark sensuous curves and lines. There were other treasures, too, including pieces of a chatelaine for housekeepers, which date back to the 1700s – a miniature notebook with an Art Nouveau stamped silver cover on a chain and a silver needle holder that both attach to a brooch or belt – and vintage books.

Fairhaven Antique Mall in Old Fairhaven, Bellingham, Washington.

We drove to Bellingham to have a nice meal with her youngest, Patrick, who is a freshman at Western Washington University and who was in eighth grade when I last saw him. We had planned a nice long scenic walk along the waterfront, but during our meal at the Village Books café the light drizzle turned to rain and then a downpour. That determined the remains of the day – seeking shelter in some of the historic buildings whose shops showcase local artists. And then Kathy took me to the Fairhaven Antique Mall (1201 11th Street, Bellingham, WA 98225, 360.922.7165), which is run by owner and buyer Lisa Distler and features more than 20 dealers. A lot of antique malls can be overwhelming, but Fairhaven Antique Mall was fairly well curated. (You can check out its Facebook page here.)

Art Nouveau hand-tooled handbag.

Distler has been in the antique business for more than 15 years and knows her stuff, having researched brands the old-fashioned way through books. I love hanging out in an antique store when the people who work there talk knowledgeably and lovingly about the treasures you fall in love with – because they love them, too. And in true antique spirit, Distler said her family hasn’t had a TV in the house since the 1980s, doesn’t have a computer, and writes out receipts on one of those thick and heavy steel boxes with a window and a slot to pull the receipt out of. For one fantastical moment, I considered this four-foot-plus trophy with a golden woman standing atop an open sphere with a base of long, blade-like mirrors and also a pink alarm clock with double-bells on top made in West Germany.

The etched cover of an antiqued compact purse.

The etched cover of an antique compact purse.

If you recall the hand-tooled purse from Feathers in Austin, you will understand my immediate attraction to a similar purse, which Distler explained was from the Edwardian era (1901-1910), though the Feathers purse was supposedly from the 1930s or 1940s. You can definitely see the Art Nouveau decorations on the front. It is missing its matching mirror, which the Feathers purse has, but this beauty was in excellent condition, from lining to latch to whipstitch. There were other beautiful purses, as well, a 1940s beaded purse with a hard frame and floral needlepoint, a flapper-era beaded purse shaped like a drawstring bag, although the opening was a metal cap that when lifted allowed the steel accordion frame to fan out and allow you to access the contents, and a sweet, small, beaded ivory purse with a kiss-lock metal frame that sported a ring, which women wore while whirling around on the dance floor. Another beauty was an antique compact purse, with slots for nickels and dimes, powder, and calling cards, and a mirror. I began imagining removing the chain and replacing it with another chain.

The inside of the antique compact purse.

Whiting and Davis gold mesh purse.

It was raining even harder when we left. We returned to Mount Vernon by way of the Red Door Antique Mall (111 Freeway Drive, 360.419.0811), where Kathy got her inkwell. There were a lot of interesting and beautiful items in this mall, including an old-fashioned percolator that I imagined could have a second life as the base of a lamp, a 1950s mint-condition Samsonite luggage, a pleather (though now it would be described as vegan) very shiny bright burnt yellow rain coat with wide lapels from the 1970s for only $19. I tried this coat on a few times but eventually put it back, unsure if I could pull off cool rather than kitsch. Buyer beware, as in one dealer’s display cabinet one silver metal trinket box had a Ross-like store tag on the bottom that listed it as $6.99, but this was priced at $42. Hmmm. But you can always trust well-known markings, such as this gold Whiting and Davis mesh purse and a brand that I now know – Crown Lewis purses, which were made in the 1930s and 1940s.

Crown Lewis fabric handbag.

Vintage glass perfume bottle.

The antique malls in the area have incredibly reasonable prices for both vintage and antique. Kathy knows, having gone through antique shops in Los Angeles, and I know having compared prices from antique and vintage goods from the Bay Area with those in the Central Valley. While you’ll find a lot of similar and therefore uninspiring items no matter where you are in the country, it’s especially sweet to stumble upon really unusual pieces such as the antique compact purse. At the end of the evening, Kathy and I looked at one another, smiling and content: Today was a really fun day poking around in antique shops with not only a dear friend, but a partner in crime. The trip thus far is definitely uplifting my spirits. And yes, I’m still thinking about that super bad rain slicker – so bad that it’s rad.

1970s, wide-lapelled, gold-buttoned, shiny rain slicker: So bad it’s cool. Or not? Cast your vote!

Lunafest: Celebrating women

Posted on March 4, 2013 by Patty

When we get up from our seats and we walk away, we’re changed a little bit and hopefully for the better.
– Kit Crawford, CEO and co-founder of CLIF Bar and Company

In the past several weeks, I have been thinking a lot about violence against women in our communities, in various societies and countries, and everywhere, really. Of course, this has been going on forever, but my despair over the recent cases in New Delhi and South Africa seemed to demand a response from me, for which I had none. What else could I do as a person, a woman, and a mother beyond raising my son to respect women and raising my daughter to be empowered and have healthy self-esteem so that no person would ever take advantage of her and no situation would be beyond overcoming?

A few weekends ago, as I was walking my dog Rex, I came across a poster on a local storefront and read about Lunafest. I recalled receiving annual e-mails from the mom of my daughter’s classmate. Being overwhelmed and stressed during my busy work seasons, I never opened the e-mails, I’m embarrassed to say. What’s done is done, but I thought to myself, I would definitely go this year. In fact, in a serendipitous moment, I declared that this was my first response to my question to myself of how to respond to violence against women: Celebrate women and their creativity and achievements.

A mid-weight Zelda coat from Personal Pizazz (Berkeley, CA), comfortable walking boots, and Monserat De Lucca crossbody bag from Sundance is a perfect outfit for a film festival in early March.

Lunafest: short films by, for and about women was established in 2000 by LUNA, makers of the nutrition bar for women, to connect women, their stories, and their causes through film. The traveling film festival also serves as a fundraiser for the many communities that host it across the country. Lunafest’s main beneficiary is the Breast Cancer Fund, whose goal is to eliminate the environmental causes of cancer. The selected beneficiaries of El Cerrito’s Lunafest showing were the El Cerrito High School’s Information Technology Academy (ITA) and World Neighbors, an international development organization established to eliminate hunger, poverty, and disease in Africa, Asia, and Latin America. ITA, a small learning community within El Cerrito High School, prepares students for post-secondary education and careers in networking, database management, digital art, and web design.

Reception before the show
The East Bay Lunafast Organizing Committee held a VIP reception prior to the film screening at one of the committee members’ homes, which was just around the corner from the high school auditorium, where the films were going to be shown. I had the pleasure of meeting the evening’s emcee, Karen Grassle, whom many of my contemporaries will recognize as Caroline Ingalls, the mother on the television series Little House on the Prairie (1974-1982). I also met two of the featured film directors, who were slated to participate in a panel discussion with Grassle after the screenings. It energized me to hear them talk about their passion for their art.

Sharon Arteaga, Karen Grassle, and Jisoo Kim at Lunafest 2013.

Jisoo Kim, who studied animation in her native South Korea, is a graduate of the California Institute of the Arts MFA program and currently works as an artist for Disney Interactive. Her animated short, The Bathhouse, is a beautiful and lush audiovisual experience in which the bathhouse is the transformative venue for women of all shapes and sizes to achieve this uninhibited state of serenity. I appreciated her ability to move us all in our theater seats from feelings of exhaustion and stress to calmness and then vigor. I also appreciated the cultural reference for this transformation. It’s the same transformation I undergo when I lie down on my acupuncturist’s table, falling asleep while listening to soothing music in a warm room with a lavender pillow over my eyes and then waking up refreshed and ready to tackle the world again.

Sharon Arteaga hails from Austin, where she earned her bachelors in film at the University of Texas. Her short film, When I Grow Up, chronicles a morning in the life of a Latina mother and daughter who sell tacos on a route that takes them through refineries in Corpus Christie and ends at the girl’s school. In the panel discussion, Arteaga revealed that the film was an homage to her mother. As a daughter of immigrants, I very much appreciated how she depicted the conflicting views of the two generations without judgment or bias but with quiet generosity, and her understanding of how the immigrants’ dream enables their children’s dreams to be much grander and yet attainable.

Karen Grassle with my friend, Lisa, and her starstruck daughter Savanna, both of whom are fans of Little House on the Prairie.

Honoring nine films
The nine screened films, which were chosen from more than 900 entries around the world, were as diverse as they were impressive. You can see the trailer and more information on the films here. I enjoyed all of the films, but the one that was close to my heart was Canadian filmmaker Andrea Dorfman’s Flawed, which told in drawings the story of a woman who has a big nose and feels conflicted when she falls in love with a plastic surgeon. It reminded me of my own perceived flaws and the teasing I endured as a child for having a flat nose and full lips, which are typical Filipino traits. I recalled the times when one of the boys in elementary school taunted me by saying, “I’m going to hit you and give you a big nose. Oh wait, you already have a big nose,” or “I’m going to trip you and give you a fat lip. Oh wait, you already have a fat lip.” Never mind that he had pretty full lips, too. I contemplated, as the protagonist did, having a nose job as an adult. It also made me think of the time when I found my sister in the bathroom rubbing lemon juice and pulp into her face to lighten her skin, which she had learned from watching Jan Brady in the television show The Brady Bunch, who was trying to lighten her freckles. I was horrified because even as a child I understood that she was trying to erase who she was. In the same way the film’s protagonist learned to accept her big nose, I came to embrace my dark skin, my big nose, and my full lips as part of who I am, as part of my heritage.

I also enjoyed Amanda Zackem’s short film about Georgena Terry, who triumphed over childhood polio (I wanted to know more about this) and whose curiosity and tenacity led her to build bicycles that are custom-fit for women. Rebecca Dreyfus’s short film, Self-Portrait with Cows Going Home and Other Works, peeked into the life of Sylvia Plachy, a well-respected contemporary photographer whose Academy Award-winning son Adrien Brody wrote the original music for the film. Plachy has an amazing eye, and thus, an amazing portfolio of black-and-white photographs. New Zealander Louise Leitch’s Whakatiki – A Spirit Rising chronicled the rebirth of a silenced and disenfranchised wife after she takes a plunge into the waters of her youth. I was moved by the woman’s transformation toward emancipation. As she emerged, water dripping from the thick folds of her skin, she shed more than her clothes and regained a lightness of being in exchange.

The other films included Sarah Berkovich’s Blank Canvas, Sasha Collington’s Lunch Date (Great Britain), and Martina Amati’s Chalk (Italy). Blank Canvas celebrates a uterine cancer survivor’s decision to have her bald head beautifully decorated with henna. The humorous Lunch Date pairs an unlikely couple – a young woman who gets dumped by her boyfriend, who uses his 14-year-old brother Wilbur as the messenger – for an unexpected picnic in the park. Chalk chronicles the rites of passage of a young gymnast.

I came away feeling a rebirth of sorts myself. I was definitely invigorated. How can you not stand up and be excited to determine one’s next steps in addressing women’s issues after being empowered by the beauty conceived by nine amazing women filmmakers? All women, go forth and create beautiful things, and let us all celebrate all of our achievements. Only then can we all be uplifted.

P.S. If there is a Lunafest event in your community, get a bunch of girlfriends together and make it a fun, celebratory evening.

Dark-rinse jean leggings get a boost with a lot of texture: paisley and brocade, Carmela Rose reclaimed vintage chandelier earrings, my own vintage pin (1980s gift from my college roommate!), butter-soft chocolate leather, and gold-studded accents on a crossbody bag.

Seattle’s Chihuly Garden and Glass

Posted on February 13, 2013 by Patty

I love to find the beauty in everyday objects.
– Dale Chihuly, American glass sculptor

A boat filled with glass globes against a black backdrop.

Last Saturday, when we were purchasing our tickets for the Space Needle, a package deal was also offered for the Space Needle and the Chihuly Garden & Glass (305 Harrison Street, Seattle, 206.753.4940). Without thinking, we went ahead and got tickets for both venues, which are next door to each other. When I asked our friend John who Chihuly was, he stopped in his tracks and said, in an incredulous tone of voice, “You’ve never heard of Chihuly?” Um, no, but I’m always up for learning about people I’ve never heard of. I was all ears.

An Education on Dale Chihuly
Dale Chihuly was born in Tacoma in 1941 and graduated in 1965 from the University of Washington with a degree in interior design. While at school, he had to take a weaving class as a requirement and decided to weave bits of glass into a tapestry, which spawned his interest in glass and led him to build a studio in south Seattle. One night he melted glass between bricks in an oven and blew it into a bubble, and from that moment on, Chihuly said he wanted to be a glass blower.

Suspended sea sculpture.

He went on to the University of Wisconsin, enrolling in the country’s first glass program, and afterwards went to the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD). In 1968, on a Fulbright Scholarship, he worked in a glass factory in Venice and then returned to found a glass program at RISD. “I like to work on a team and that’s how they work in Venice,” he said in an interview, which I found on YouTube. “I saw how important teamwork was to glass blowing, and that’s the way I taught glass blowing at Rhode Island.”

Close-up of the sea sculpture.

He elevated glass as a fine art after he and a couple of his friends cofounded the Pilchuck Glass School at Washington State in 1971. Whereas at the time Seattle had few glass blowers, now the city boasts more glass artists and glassblowers than any place in the world, according to Chihuly. In 1980, when sales from his galleries exceeded his income as a professor at RISD, he quit teaching and returned to Seattle, where he said he’s been ever since. Chihuly rarely blows glass himself, which is a result of having gone blind in his left eye from an automobile accident in England in 1976. Having lost peripheral vision and depth perception, he relied on team members to blow the glass. By not being the head glass blower and not having to focus on finishing the piece at hand, he’s been able to enjoy watching his team and participating in the entire experience. Some teams numbered as high as 18, though he had more than 100 artists and craftsmen working to produce his visions.

Filaments and drops of glass and light.

Chihuly has many well-known works of art, but at a certain point he began to expand into doing large architectural installations and commissions for residences, hotels, and casinos around the world, including Venice, Dubai, London, and Jerusalem. His garden series has been exhibited in London, New York, and Chicago., among other cities He has done about 15 to 20 different series of works in the span of 40 years. His glass baskets series, for example, was inspired by his collection of Native American woven baskets, but his series of seashells began as a result of a piece that unintentionally turned out looking like a seashell.

Glass rods and what looks like eggplant bubble up from the earth.

Chihuly is no longer actively blowing glass. Instead, he has devoted his time to painting. The Chihuly Garden & Glass includes his paintings, as well. “I want to have a good time,” he said, of painting. “And then I want to work. Hopefully, if I work for two or three hours, I might come up with something I haven’t drawn before. A lot of it is just working. If you’re doing it, things just happen. It should feel good while you’re doing it. If it starts to feel like work, then I’ll stop.”

Standing beside a glass yucca tree in the garden.

Amazing exhibition hall, glasshouse, and garden
I didn’t have any expectations going into the Exhibition Hall, which is the best state to be in when you’re going to view an exhibit or see a movie or attend a concert. His work is pretty astonishing, and they are expertly lit and properly displayed against lacquered black walls and floors. The colors are deep and rich, and the patterns intricate. The shapes are the result of amazing control. He could not have achieved these works without a big and talented team. I recommend this exhibit, especially the Glasshouse, a 40-foot-tall, 4,500-square-foot structure made of glass and steel, which houses Chihuly’s 100-foot-long suspended sculpture resembling flowers in reds, yellows, oranges, and amber. The Glasshouse is where I’d want to have a grand party. The Garden exhibit is equally enjoyable, with glass plants and flowers mingling with live flora.

The suspended 100-foot-long glass structure hangs inside the Glasshouse. The Space Needle is to the left.

Afterwards, we ate a late lunch at the Collections Café, which is part of the exhibition hall. The menu offers fresh and local ingredients and food that is inspired by Chihuly’s travels. The restaurant is a long rectangular shape, with 36 of his large drawings backlit on the wall facing the wall of windows. I got a kick out of the shadow box tables that displayed Chihuly’s collections of vintage and antique wares, including cameras, radios, wind-up tin toys, mercury glass, Christmas ornaments, and shaving brushes, among other old items. Tall shelves house carnival chalkware, and suspended above the ceiling were more than 80 accordions. What a great concept and way to display and share his collections. This vintage lover certainly appreciated it.

From the Chihuly Bookstore, a 1914 globe pocket watch with optical lens and skeleton key (Corter, handmade in New England).

Café tables display Chihuly’s vintage and antique collections.

Accordions are suspended from the Collections Café ceiling.

The Space Needle, seemingly intertwined with the glass structure, viewed from inside the warm Glasshouse.

The Dress at 50

Live the creative, meaningful, and full life

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