Lunafest: Celebrating women

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Exploring Seattle’s Space Needle and Pike Place Market

In wisdom gathered over time, I have found that every experience is a form of exploration.
– Ansel Adams, American photographer and environmentalist

From Austin, I was supposed to head to Los Angeles and then Seattle on my five-city business trip, but I didn’t end up going to the last two destinations because of rescheduling issues. Still, since David and the kids were slated to join me this past weekend, we decided to stick with our original travel plans, and we flew just for the weekend to visit with good friends of ours, John and Kris. John and David have been friends since nursery school, and John was one of the groomsmen at our wedding. It’s a testament to their enduring friendship, though we haven’t seen them in two years and it’s been several years since we have traveled to the Pacific Northwest to visit them.

I’ve been to Seattle seven times. When I was on assignment in Seattle and Portland to cover an article on venture capitalism (VC) in the Pacific Northwest many years ago, I was able to conduct research on my novel. My father, his cousins, and many of his fellow compatriots traveled by steamship from Manila and entered the United States at the Port of Seattle. If the Filipinos didn’t have relatives already in the States to pick them up, most of them stayed in hotels in the International District, home of the citySeattle’s Chinatown, only to be conned by foremen into signing away their lives to migrant farm work. After my VC interviews, I was lucky enough to be in that area of town and found a couple of the infamous hotels where the men were given room until they were carted off to various parts of the country to pick whatever fruit or vegetable that was currently in harvest.

My view of the Space Needle through a web of tree branches.

My view of the Space Needle through a web of tree branches.

Atop the Space Needle
In all the times I’ve been to Seattle, I’ve never been to the Space Needle (400 Broad Street, 206.905.2111). It’s something you do, though, when you have kids, and after the fact, I’m glad that we went. I knew that it was built for the 1962 World’s Fair and celebrated the young city’s vision for its and the country’s future in space exploration, but that’s pretty much the extent of my knowledge of the iconic symbol of Seattle.

Of course, once there, I learned more. The theme of the World’s Fair was Century 21. This was the time of the Cold War, and the U.S. was in a race with the Soviet Union to determine who would dominate the space program. President Kennedy was supposed to attend the closing ceremony on October 21, 1962, but canceled due to a “cold,” which later turned out to be a cover for his having to handle the Cuban Missile Crisis.

A view of downtown Seattle from the Space Needle.

A view of downtown Seattle from the Space Needle.

After several attempts at finding the right centerpiece that would define the city long after the event was over – in the same way the Eiffel Tower did for Paris after the 1889 World’s Fair – Edward Carlson, president of Western International Hotels and chairman of the fair, found inspiration in the Stuttgart Tower in Germany. Several architects and versions of drawings later, as a result of trying to make the model structurally sound, the Space Needle’s current form came to be. Finding a location and financing – at a cost of $4.5 million – became the next obstacles. Both were obtained, and the Space Needle was constructed in just 13 months – just in time for the opening of the World’s Fair.

Every day nearly 20,000 people took the elevator to the top of the Space Needle, for a total of 2.3 million visitors for the duration of the fair. The Space Needle paid for itself in short order, and continues to be Seattle’s number one attraction. It takes 41 seconds to reach the top via the elevator, and your stomach definitely drops during both the ascent and descent. The 360-degree view of the city is wonderful. While we didn’t go to any of the other venues in the area such as the Pacific Science Center and the Experience Music Project (though we did go to the Chihuly Garden, which I’ll highlight in Wednesday’s blog entry), you could easily spend a day in the area.

Wandering around Pike Place Market at night.

Wandering around Pike Place Market at night.

Wandering through Pike Place Market
After a late lunch, we headed over to Pike Place Market, which has always been a destination every time I’ve come to Seattle. I enjoy walking up and down the stalls, sampling the jellies and other goodies and admiring the various goods crafted by local artisans. We also returned in the morning after Sunday brunch and were entertained by two street musicians, Whitney Monge and Morrison Boomer, whom we really enjoyed. Monge has a soulful voice, and the band had a kick to their music.

Kicking it up a notch with street band Morrison Boomer.

Kicking it up a notch with street band Morrison Boomer.

We picked up a salve that is supposed to clear up eczema, which my daughter has, and skin irritation, which David has, so we’ll see if the product by the Fay Farm – “handcrafted natural body products” – works (913 Tomchuck Lane, Greenbak, WA 98253, 360.222.3036, soapmaker@thefayfarm.com). Claudia Rice Kelly (Claudia Kelly’s Collection, 1916 Pike Place #12-341, Studio 253.941.2665) made some beautiful scarves, bow ties, and velvet jackets made of silk and velvet. Micks Peppourri (P.O. Box 8324, Yakima, WA 98908, 800.204.5679) had an overwhelming number of tasty pepper jellies, namely lime, pomegranate, and the cabernet. David and the kids went crazy over the Woodring Northwest Specialties spicy pickles and pepper and specialty jellies.

Admiring the scarves while being chatted up by the scarf lady.

Admiring the scarves while being chatted up by the scarf lady.

As usual, the weekend was too short, but John and Kris let us know there is plenty more to Seattle we’ve yet to see, including the Boeing Museum. So that just means we have to come back, which is always a good reason to me.

Drawn to an Art Nouveau-style scarf that had different colors on either side.

Drawn to an Art Nouveau-style scarf that had different colors on either side.

One thing I’ve embraced is that wherever I go, especially if I’ve been there before, I want to find something new to see, appreciate, and learn about. Whether it’s a vintage shop or a historical landmark or a novel destination – a hidden gem – suggested by a local or a visitor, find something new. It makes the usual special again and our world ever more expansive.

Seafood does not get any fresher than this at Pike Place Market.

Seafood does not get any fresher than this at Pike Place Market.

In search of Sunday brunch at Pike Place Market.

In search of Sunday brunch at Pike Place Market.

Austin’s Sunday bluegrass brunch and the LBJ Library and Museum

It is the excitement of becoming – always becoming, trying, probing, falling, resting, and trying again – but always trying and always gaining . . .
– Lyndon Baines Johnson, 36th U.S. President, Inaugural Address, January 20, 1965

Threadgill's West Riverside Drive location did not have the Sunday gospel brunch today.

Threadgill’s West Riverside Drive location did not have the Sunday gospel brunch today.

An Austin bluegrass brunch to remember
Thanks to a recommendation from Irene Koch at BHIX, we set our sights on the Sunday gospel brunch at Threadgill’s (301 W. Riverside Drive, Austin, 512.472.9304). We arrived early, secured a corner booth, and enjoyed our Southern breakfast, but it turned out that the choir thought there wasn’t a performance today (perhaps because it was Super Bowl Sunday?) and wasn’t going to show up. Thinking quickly, we decided to hot-foot it to the other Threadgill’s location (6416 N. Lamar – Austin, 512.451.5440) and arrived a half-hour after the bluegrass performance began.

The Sunday bluegrass brunch was a go at the Threadgill's North Lamar location!

The Sunday bluegrass brunch was a go at Threadgill’s North Lamar location!

Though I would have loved to have waved and clapped my hands to a soul-stirring gospel performance, I am very glad we heard Out of the Blue, a trio comprising Jamie Stubblefield on guitar, Ginger Evans on bass, and Rob Lifford on mandolin. What a treat! We heard traditional bluegrass, as well as their renditions of Bob Dylan and the Beatles’ “My Life.” The best song was the lively one that, of course, I didn’t record. It’s called “The Hangman’s Reel,” and required a lot of flying fingers on the strings. I really love the sound of the mandolin, though I am fond of the guitar and the bass, as well. All three were terrific on their respective instruments. I was hoping to link to one of their songs, but the size of the files were too large. Definitely check out their site to hear their music.

Local bluegrass trio Out of the Blue making beautiful music.

Local bluegrass trio Out of the Blue making beautiful music.

Here’s an interesting piece of local history: Kenneth Threadgill, a country singer and tavern owner, opened his gas station at the Austin city limits in 1933 and sold gas, food, and beer – when the Prohibition law was repealed. In fact, he was the first one in the state to get a liquor license post-Prohibition. He transformed the gas station into a tavern that featured live entertainment. After the war, Threadgill and his Hootenanny Hoots played to packed houses, which included local college students who also performed on stage. One such University of Texas student was Janis Joplin, who became good friends with the Threadgills and sang at his venue. While some credit Threadgill’s for starting her career, the modest Threadgill said that she “started herself” at his place. Austin is known for its musical roots, and we were lucky to get a taste of local bluegrass.

The Living-large legacy of LBJ
After brunch, we went to the Lyndon Baines Johnson Library and Museum (2313 Red River Street, Austin, 512.721.0200, donation of $8 for adults), which is on the grounds of the University of Texas. The museum covers three expansive floors, and his archives alone house 45 million pages of documents, photographs, video, and audio files, which are the raw materials documenting his life and times.

The Lyndon Baines Johnson Library and Museum is an enormous building on the campus of the University of Texas at Austin.

The Lyndon Baines Johnson Library and Museum is an enormous building on the campus of the University of Texas at Austin.

While LBJ is known to many of my contemporaries as the President who was mired in the Vietnam War, it should be mandatory for all school children to visit this museum and see just how much LBJ transformed America and continues to influence all of us to this day as a result of his Great Society vision and legislation. It’s staggering to catalog the many groundbreaking pieces of legislation he pushed through Congress, but you know me, I have to give it a go.

Landmark legislation
I was familiar with the bigger pieces of legislation, namely the 1964 Civil Rights Act that ended segregation, the 1965 Voting Rights Act that eliminated poll taxes that African-Americans had to pay to vote and deliberately confusing literacy tests they were subjected to before they could vote, and finally the Civil Rights Act of 1968. I was also familiar with his Economic Opportunity Act, which was the centerpiece of LBJ’s War on Poverty and signed into law in 1964. The act created several social programs in the areas of education, healthcare, and the general welfare of those people in the lower-economic class. Head Start and Job Corps are two of the few remaining programs. I remember the now-defunct Volunteers in Service to America (VISTA) program when I was growing up, and much admired its work, along with Kennedy’s Peace Corps.

The LBJ Library and Museum face an expansive courtyard.

The LBJ Library and Museum faces an expansive courtyard.

In 1963, JBJ signed the Clean Air Act, which was established to combat air pollution and the first of many acts to protect the environment. LBJ was the first President to sign into law clean air and water quality legislation, and he went on to sign laws for pesticide control, water resource planning, solid waste disposal, highway beautification, air quality, and water and sanitation systems in rural areas, among other areas. The Water Quality Act combatted water pollution by seeking higher water quality standards, and the Wilderness Act formalized the process of designating wilderness areas for protection.

In 1965, he signed the Immigration and Nationality Act, which allowed immigrants of color – not just immigrants of European descent – to come into America. The Social Security Amendment in 1965 created Medicare and Medicaid. While the system needs an overhaul today, it remains, in my opinion, a critical safety net for older Americans, and indeed, for us all. I for one can say that without Medicare my sisters and I would have had to borrow money out of our homes to pay for the seven-plus total weeks that our mother was in the ICU and then an acute-care facility. Our mother was a hard worker, paid into her pension and Social Security, saved a lot of money, and even took out secondary health insurance, but there was no way she could have paid for those last weeks of her life.

LBJ also passed the Elementary and Secondary Education Act, and the Higher Education Act, which provided financial assistance for low-income families. The latter act provided Pell Grants, which my sisters and I received – and put to good use. The Heart Disease Care and Cancer and Stroke amendment to the Public Health Service Act and the Cigarette Labeling and Advertisement Act paved the way for research of diseases caused by tobacco use and awareness about the dangers of smoking.

The staircase from the 3rd floor to the 4th floor gives you a view of the impressive collection of LBJ's archives.

The staircase from the 3rd floor to the 4th floor gives you a view of the impressive collection of LBJ’s archives.

The Child Protection Act of 1966 ensured that manufacturers made safe toys. The National Traffic and Motor Vehicle Safety Act mandated safety belt use. (He also signed the Highway Safety Act the same year.) It reminded me of an older friend who used to give me rides to the evening choral rehearsals with the San Francisco State University choir. Whenever we would come to a stop sign, her right arm instinctively shot out, a reflex of the pre-safety belt days when it was common practice to put one’s arm out to protect the passenger. In that same year, LBJ signed the Freedom of Information Act, which allowed citizens to access formerly classified documents, and the Fair Packaging and Labeling Act, which was designed to provide more information to educate consumers.

In 1967, the Public Broadcast Act enabled the formation of the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, which in turn established the Public Broadcasting System and National Public Radio, which David and I enjoy, as do many of our friends. LBJ was responsible for creating the National Endowment for the Arts and the National Endowment for the Humanities under the National Foundation on the Arts and the Humanities Act. And in that year, he appointed Thurgood Marshall as a justice to the Supreme Court.

A photo-engraved magnesium mural of "A Generation of Presidents" includes LBJ in the Great Hall o the 4th floor.

A photo-engraved magnesium mural of “A Generation of Presidents” includes LBJ in the Great Hall of the 4th floor.

In 1968, he signed the Fire Control Act, Fire Research and Safety Act, and the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act. The Fair Housing Act guaranteed that people of color were not discriminated against when they tried to buy a home. By signing the National Trails System Act, LBJ created the 2,663-mile-long Pacific Crest Trail enjoyed by many a nature lover.

We spent three and a half hours at the museum, and that was only because the museum was closing. We hurried through the 10th floor, which had a smaller-scale version of LBJ’s Oval Office. I think another half-hour would have sufficed, but I learned so much about a man who had a vision about creating a better America and world through his Great Society but was tortured by an unwinnable war that he could not end. (A side note: The Fog of War, a 2003 documentary by Errol Morris about LBJ’s secretary of defense Robert McNamara, illustrates the complexities of the Vietnam War and LBJ’s dilemma. This documentary is highly recommended!) What is amazing is the legacy LBJ did leave, which I so anal retentively and chronologically cataloged.

Here are some amazing statistics that I took with me: When LBJ entered the presidency, the percent of Americans living in poverty in the U.S. was 22 percent. When he left, it was 13 percent. (Another source in the museum said that the reduction went from 20 percent to 12 percent.) No other president has been able to make such an impact on this scourge. He was instrumental in adding 36 sites – a total of 10 million acres – to the National Park System. And he was the founder of the U.S. space program, which fostered the belief that humans could achieve anything.

A statue of LBJ greets you at the entrance of his library and museum.

A statue of LBJ greets you at the entrance of his library and museum.

LBJ understood poverty after his freshman year in college when he took a teaching assignment in a small rural town in Texas called Cotulla, where his predominantly Mexican-American students were poor and often came to school on empty stomachs. Back then he understood that poverty is a symptom not a cause, and that in order to eradicate poverty, we would have to as a great society work together to ensure quality healthcare, education, housing, and job training, and address violence in our communities. The vision of the Great Society was not meant to be a handout but rather a hand up, to make individuals and their communities self-sustaining.

I doubt my kids – at ages 10 and 12.5 – would have had to patience to go through every display and exhibit as we did, but even if they could retain just a smidgeon of what I learned today, their knowledge of one of the most visionary presidents in modern times would have been enhanced greatly. There is truly not a day goes by that someone in our country is not impacted by legislation signed by LBJ. That’s quite a legacy. To quote LBJ: “The Great Society asks not how much, but how good; not only how to create wealth, but how to use it; not only how fast we are going, but where we are headed. It proposes as the first test for a nation: the quality of its people.”

A Meal to end an eventful day
How to end such a full day? After hitting up Feathers again, we decided to take on another suggestion by our friend at Uncommon Objects. We settled ourselves at Woodland (1716 S. Congress Avenue, 512.441.6800), which features appetizers such as spiced pork empanadas, southern corn fritters, and crispy fried Gulf oysters. We enjoyed the roast duck tostada as appetizer (slow-cooked pork seasoned with cumin, cayenne, and red chili in a masa crust with a tomatillo dipping sauce) and the porcini-dusted salmon on a blanket of leek risotta and drizzled with truffle oil. Both were worthy meals to close out my last full day as a tourist in this fun city.

Peasant Jewelry by Michael Hickey features deconstructed rosary pieces and a bone.

Peasant Jewelry by Michael Hickey features deconstructed rosary pieces and a bone.

Peasant Jewelry by Michael Hickey at Feathers. The religious medallion at the top opens up to an engraving inside.

Peasant Jewelry by Michael Hickey at Feathers. The religious medallion at the top opens up to an engraving inside.

The Sixth Floor Museum in Dallas: Reliving November 22, 1963

For of those to whom much is given, much is expected.
– John F. Kennedy, 35th President of the United States

My father was a huge Kennedy fan. We had one of those 1960s thick-padded, pleather ottomans in the family room closet that held my father’s Kennedy paraphernalia, which was mostly soft-cover, color books about the life and times – and assassination – of our 35th president. I don’t know whatever happened to those books, but I imagine my mother got rid of them, being the person who decluttered and constantly battled with my father’s Depression-era-induced hoarder mentality.

The corner 6th floor of the 7-floor Texas School Book Depository building is where Oswald shot JFK.

The corner 6th floor of the 7-floor Texas School Book Depository building is where Oswald shot JFK.

It was only fitting, then, that when I asked my sister, Heidi, what one thing I should see while in Dallas, she responded without hesitation – the Texas School Book Depository – now named the Sixth Floor Museum at Dealey Plaza (411 Elm Street, Dallas, 214.747.6660, $16 entrance fee for adults). This November marks the 50th anniversary of Kennedy’s assassination. I was only 21 months old at the time, but I remember the funeral processions of Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr., on television years later. My father, of course, remembered and talked of the great tragedy. He was a New Deal FDR guy and like many people in the early 1960s was enchanted by the youth, charm, and vigor brought to the White House by Jacqueline and John F. Kennedy and their young children.The museum takes its name from the floor of the book depository where Oswald had shot the President.

Everything is on the sixth floor, though the seventh floor – which is the only area where you are allowed to take photographs – has a few more artifacts and informational placards. What is amazing is that the sixth floor holds approximately 40,000 artifacts, chronicling the JFK’s life and legacy. Everyone gets a headset to guide you through the maze of information. You get a very detailed history of the era from a political, cultural, and global perspective. And, of course, you get a very detailed accounting of that fateful day, which was poignant and left me bereft.The infamous corner was recreated, a large diorama depicts the location of the motorcade at the time of the shooting, and the conspiracy theories and the Warren Commission findings were treated thoroughly. The short films put you right at the center of times. The oral histories of eyewitness accounts were especially moving. One display held photos that eyewitnesses had taken, along with their cameras. And, of course, Abraham Zapruder‘s film of the assassination was displayed frame by frame. I confess that as I moved along in the museum, prompted by the audio recording, a sense of impending dread and agitation crept in the closer I got to the actual moment in time. It speaks to how well conceived and developed the museum is.

Photomosaic portrait of Jacqueline Kennedy on the 7th floor.

Photomosaic portrait of Jacqueline Kennedy on the 7th floor.

Pixels of JFK's image comprised Jacqueline Kennedy's large-scale photomosaic.

Pixels of JFK’s image comprise Jacqueline Kennedy’s large-scale photomosaic.

I was struck by Jackie Kennedy‘s grace and composure. I had forgotten how stunning and naturally beautiful she was, especially in her youth. When I looked at the many photos of the First Family and couple, it was easy to see why the nation was transfixed by them and buoyed by their love and support of the arts, her simple yet elegant sense of style, and their youthful idealism that spurred the younger generation to make better the world. On the seventh floor, two large-scale portraits hang. These photomosaics by Alex Guofeng Cao feature pixels of pictures that comprise the overall portrait. JFK’s portrait comprises pixels of Jackie, and her portrait comprises pixels of her husband.

JFK's photomosaic on the 7th floor.

JFK’s photomosaic on the 7th floor.

Pixels of Jacqueline Kennedy's photo comprise JFK's large-scale photomosaic.

Pixels of Jacqueline Kennedy’s photo comprise JFK’s large-scale photomosaic.

Looking down on the 7th floor where the motorcade was traveling by. The grassy knoll is in the background.

Looking down on the 7th floor where the motorcade was traveling by. The grassy knoll is in the background.

As I looked out the sixth floor window, onto the street where the motorcade passed and the grassy knoll farther out, I couldn’t help but wonder where we as a nation would be had JFK not been stricken. As one news report noted, it wasn’t just JFK who was shot, it was the President. And therefore the nation. I wandered around outside in the bright sunshine for a few moments, trying to get my bearings. The museum carefully, painfully records a historic moment in our history, and indeed the world. You come out of the Sixth Floor Museum somber and thoughtful. But if you are inspired by the many famous lines spoken by JFK and on display throughout the museum, you begin to walk forward briskly, with the notion that JFK’s legacy lives on in the good deeds you and I can do to sustain and respect our environment, help those less fortunate than we, appreciate our family and friends even more, and set worthy examples for our children. As JFK once said, “One person can make a difference, and everyone should try.” Words to live by.

A close-up of the Dallas cityscape.

A close-up of the Dallas cityscape.

Post script: Other points of interest
From the seventh floor of the museum, you can see the Margaret Hunt Hill Bridge, which was designed by the world-famous Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava, connects downtown to West Dallas. Rising above the Trinity River, the steel bridge spans 1,870 feet long and 400 feet high at its tallest point. If you are familiar with Calatrava’s work (I had to write a brief summary of him for a SHPE Magazine feature article on famous Hispanic engineers several years ago), you will recognize his innovative point of view and how his creations are imbued with a sense of movement, rhythm, and freedom.

The Margaret Hunt Hill Bridge by Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava.

The Margaret Hunt Hill Bridge by Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava.

Top Chef aficionados know that past chefs Tiffany Derry, Tre Wilcox, and Casey Thompson hail from Dallas. Also, this season’s Dallas Top Chef contestants included John Tesar (Spoon Bar & Kitchen, 8220 Westchester Dr., Plaza at Preston Center, 214.368.8220), Joshua Valentine (pastry chef at FT33, 1617 Hi Line Drive, 214.741.2629), and Danyele McPherson (The Grape, 2808 Greenville Ave Dallas, 214.828.1981). Apparently, Wilcox resigned last week from his position of executive chef from the Village Marquee Grill & Bar (33 Highland Park Village, Dallas, 214.522.6035) to spend more time with his 11-year-old daughter. I didn’t get a chance to check out Derry’s restaurant, Private | Social (3232 McKinney Avenue, Dallas, 214.754.4744), which is a combination of soul food, Asian fusion, and global. Perhaps on the next visit!

My room with a view in Dallas.

My room with a view in Dallas.

The Winter wonderland that is Brooklyn

Quote

I once started out to walk around the world, but ended up in Brooklyn,
that Bridge was too much for me.

– Lawrence Ferlinghetti, American poet and painter, A Coney Island of the Mind

Beautiful brownstones in snow.

Beautiful brownstones in snow.

Greetings from Brooklyn! When I arrived Saturday morning, it was 18 degrees and snowing lightly. It had snowed the night before, and as I was driven from JFK to my sister’s and my new friend’s place in Brooklyn, I marveled at the pristine layer of snow that endowed the cityscape with a quietude and pureness. I was reminded of Peter’s world in Brooklyn from A Snowy Day.Last week, I had pulled out my 1988 army-surplus-store, army-issue Alaskan arctic parka (from my Jesuit Volunteer Corp. days in Alaska) to wear, fortified by long underwear. But when it came time to start packing, I realized it was too bulky to take and pack (as my business travels were to take me to Dallas and Austin, as well), and I needed a more functional and business-looking coat that would keep me warm and allow me to enter a business event and still feel presentable. I escaped having to attempt styling a chic look with my arctic parka and got a city parka. I needed it. The temps never rose past 21 degrees that day and the wind blew with such force, which made for quite the hike from our friend Mason’s apartment in the Cobble Hill district of Brooklyn to the Brooklyn Parkway Waterfront by way of the shoreline. I breathed through my mouth because my nose stung when I breathed normally. If only my boots were waterproof in the slushy snow, as my ski socks kept my feet warm so long as they were dry!

View of the City from Brooklyn.

View of the City from Brooklyn.

The Idiotarod shopping cart races
All that said, it was the perfect weekend to be in Brooklyn. On Saturday, the annual Idiotarod shopping cart race took off shortly after noon, near the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. Favorite entrants were the Cart full of Mitt Romney’s Binders Full of Women. The most expansive entrant was the multi-piece speakeasy, complete with piano, bar and gaming table attended by champagne-sipping, gangster-clad men and women. The Pac-Man crew made their outfits out of brightly colored nylon laundry bags and their cart was re-envisioned as the Pac-Man who demonstrated eating fellow crew members dressed as a banana and a cherry. Such an 80s thing. Arriving late but just in time were the Medieval knights in their very detailed chain-mail suits of armor and their just-as-elaborately-constructed catapult, and the Charlie Sheen characters, who dressed their shopping cart with Charlie Sheen movie posters, such as Wall Street, Major League, and Platoon. There were not as many entrants this year, but with the temps as they were, can you blame them? Once they took off, we escaped the outdoors at an equally quick clip.

Medieval shopping cart.

Medieval shopping cart.

Cart full of binders of women!

Cart full of binders of women!

Mason had introduced us to the Chocolate Room on Court Street when we were there in September, so it was only fitting that we retired to this mecca for chocoholics for something to warm our tummies and de-ice our extremities. This time, we tried their seasonal dark spicy hot chocolate (imagine Ancho chili, Chipotle chili, cloves, and cinnamon mixed with Belgian chocolate and Valhrona cocoa powder). You can order your own online, but if you’re in Brooklyn, it is a must-see.

The Brooklyn Museum: Mummies, European painters, feminist art abounds

Rodin and me at the Brooklyn Museum.

Rodin and me at the Brooklyn Museum.

Satiated, warm, and dry, my sister and I set out for the architecturally beautiful Brooklyn Museum. I’d heard about the museum’s world-renowned Egyptian collection, but that was the extent of my knowledge. I wish we had scheduled the entire day because we only saw half of the museum in a hurried three hours. We were greeted by Auguste Rodin sculpture when we entered the building. Surrounding the Beaux-Arts Court, which is equally architecturally stunning, were European works of art, including paintings by Pissarro, Monet, Manet, Kandinsky, and Goya. My two favorites were by Russian artist Vasily Vereshchagin, who painted these two enormous canvases, “A Resting Place of Prisoners” and “The Road of the War Prisoners” (both 1878-1879). The “battle painter,” who had participated in military campaigns as a decorated soldier, painted realistic scenes from many wars. The paintings at the Brooklyn Museum are from the Russo-Turkish War (1877-88). They were very haunting, and he captured both the indifference of the bitter cold and the horrors of death and war without employing a heavy hand.

The Beau-Arts Court, featuring European paintings.

The Beau-Arts Court, featuring European paintings.

The Egyptian collection comprises more than 1,200 artifacts, including sculpture, relief, paintings, pottery, and papyri, across seven galleries. The collection tells the story of Egyptian art from its earliest known origins (circa 3500 B.C.E.) until the Roman era when Egypt was folded into their empire (30 B.C.E.–395 C.E.). While everything was breathtaking and in need of more leisurely time to examine all the details, the most stunning gallery for me was the mummy chamber, which included four mummies, detailed exhibits on the process of mummification, and a very long scroll on the Book of the Dead. The layout of the galleries reminded me of the rooms upon rooms that archeologists found when they discovered the mummies. This collection alone is priceless as a destination point.

Detail of an Egyptian cartonnage, the material of which mummy cases are made.

Detail of an Egyptian cartonnage, the material of which mummy cases are made.

Heidi was familiar with The Dinner Party by Judy Chicago, which is a permanent exhibit at the museum. This installation artwork is by the feminist artist who collaborated with other artists to assemble her vision of a dinner party with 39 place settings, complete with personalized banner and dinner plate, for both mythical and historical women. There are quite a few plates that overtly depict the female vulva, which take issue with the phallic symbols that have been abundant in art history. She started the project in 1974, and it premiered at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art in 1979. It’s an amazing exhibit that all women and especially girls should see to appreciate her contribution to women and art, and to learn about the many important but often forgotten women in history.

Walking the Brooklyn Bridge on a crisp sunny Sunday morning.

Walking the Brooklyn Bridge on a crisp sunny Sunday morning.

Walking the Brooklyn Bridge under a full moon
The Brooklyn gods were smiling upon Heidi and me Sunday morning, as we were determined to walk that bridge. It was something I was advised to do when I was in New York in 2008, and I vowed to do it the next time I was in town. Tragically, last September, Heidi and I walked the Manhattan Bridge by accident, but it guaranteed that we had to return to Brooklyn again. And so we did, and so the wind and freezing temperatures of Saturday did not deter us.

It was 31 degrees, sunny with no wind – a perfect day to traipse across this beautiful bridge and enjoy the skyline. We spent the day at the Museum of Modern Art (more on that in the next blog entry) and then after returning to a few local haunts (In God We Trust and End of Century), we decided to walk the bridge back to Brooklyn at night. It was seven in the evening when we began our walk with the full moon and the city lights as accessories to this glorious old bridge. It was really invigorating.

New York under a full moon seen from the Brooklyn Bridge.

New York under a full moon seen from the Brooklyn Bridge.

Dinner at Talde
How to celebrate another wonderful day? Saturday evening, Heidi and I had the best pulled pork sandwich I’ve ever had, along with a well-paired Cabernet Sauvignon at Pork Slope, a roadhouse-inspired bar by Top Chef alum Dale Talde and his partners that takes its name from its neighborhood of Park Slope. Talde actually has three restaurants in Park Slope (Thistle Hill Tavern serves casual seasonal tavern fare and handcrafted cocktails). So we met Mason at Talde‘s namesake restaurant, a casual Asian-American restaurant and bar. Talde was previously a sous chef at Buddakan, where David and I dined and swooned over the food back in 2008 in the Chelsea district.

So forgive me my inclination to tell you all what we had for dinner. For appetizers, we had kale salad with hazelnut ponzu and persimmon, green mango salad with crushed peanuts and Thai chili, and Hawaiian bread buns with Filipino pork sausage (of course) and pickled shallots and garlic vinegar mayo. Our noodle selection was crispy oyster and bacon pad thai, and our side dish was roasted cauliflower. Our main entrees were smoked charred sui pork shoulder with peanuts and autumn pears and wok-charred Black Angus rib eye, to go along with our sangiovese. For dessert, we had chocolate bar cookies and, couldn’t resist, Talde’s version of Halo-Halo, a Filipino dessert that is made of shaved ice and the various versions have different ingredients such as creamed corn, shredded cantaloupe, and condensed sweetened milk. Talde’s version had Cap’n Crunch, which I was not all that keen on, but it goes with the tradition of making the dessert your own with different ingredients. It was an unbelievably satisfying meal. And one that I will definitely take David to, as he is a big Top Chef fan and a foodie. If you’re ever in Brooklyn, I highly recommend Talde.

We are now in Manhattan, and though I love Manhattan, there is nothing like Brooklyn. I remember telling friends when I returned home in September that I would move to Brooklyn in a heartbeat. Oh, they said, the humid summers and frigid winters will change your mind. Well, the frigid winters didn’t sway me. I guess I’ll have to come back in the summer to test the other half of their hypothesis. Game on!

Welcome back to Brooklyn at the foot of the Brooklyn Bridge!

Welcome back to Brooklyn at the foot of the Brooklyn Bridge!

Discovering the Contemporary Jewish Museum

I wanted to convey the joy of being a little boy alive on a certain kind of day.
– Ezra Jack Keating, American author and illustrator

We had planned to celebrate my daughter’s belated 10th birthday “party” this past Saturday with a requested family horseback riding excursion. Due to safety issues over the muddy trails, however, we had to come up with alternative. My daughter, who was inviting a good friend of hers to join us, decided on the Yerba Buena Park and the carousel in San Francisco. David suggested that we include going to the Contemporary Jewish Museum (736 Mission Street, San Francisco, CA 94103, 415.655.7800), since it’s located across the street from the Yerba Buena Center. My daughter was less enthused than my son. She announced in a much-too-early preteen tone of voice that she was “done” with museums – which is surprising coming from someone who loved museums and always brought a sketchbook to draw and take notes. We promptly added the Contemporary Jewish Museum to our itinerary.

The architecture of the Contemporary Jewish Museum is stunning (seen from the western end of the building).

The architecture of the Contemporary Jewish Museum is stunning (seen from the western end of the building).

The Contemporary Jewish Museum is a beautiful piece of architecture. There are only five exhibits in the spacious museum, but it’s the right number of exhibits and square footage to soak in the art and not get overwhelmed.

The Snowy Day
One of the current exhibits is “The Snowy Day and the Art of Ezra Jack Keats” (ongoing through February 24th), which we thought the kids would enjoy. Who doesn’t have a copy of the classic urban story about a young African American boy delighting in the beauty and wonder of snow? I read it as a child and read it to my kids when they were young. “I wanted to convey the joy of being a little boy alive on a certain kind of day,” Keats had written of the genesis of the book, which won the Caldecott Medal in 1963. We were treated to original sketches, storyboards, and final illustrations of his many books, which allowed us to see the individual materials that made up his collages, the printed paper he cut out, the thickness of his paint strokes, and the different techniques he employed, including dipping paper into a mix of paint and other liquids to produce a marbled effect.

Breaking up an all-denim foundation with earthy colors - a textured moto jacket and beloved Frye boots, and embellished with hoop earrings from Lava 9 (Berkeley, CA).

Breaking up an all-denim foundation with earthy colors – a textured moto jacket and beloved Frye boots, and embellished with hoop earrings from Lava 9 (Berkeley, CA).

Of The Snowy Day, and also his other written works, he wrote that he was more concerned with “capturing a mood” than in developing the plot of his stories. Given that he admired haikus, you can see the influence. Especially in The Snowy Day, readers understand Peter’s deepest feelings and his world beyond the snow in the spare but evocative words Keats chose to give us.

Displays of letters provide us with a snapshot of the era. The Snowy Day was published in 1962, during the Civil Rights Movement. Many people thought Keats was African-American, and he noted that African-Americans especially were disappointed that he was not. Keats responded to a racist review of his book, which was displayed along with letters of support. Most poignant is a series of letters between Keats and a Japanese mother whom he had met during a book trip to Japan and whose son cherished an autographed copy of one of his books. She wrote to let him know how much her son loved that book – it was his most prized possession and he showed it proudly to all his friends and acquaintances. Keats’s most recently published book was the last book her son read before he was fatally injured in a traffic accident the following day. Keats’ letter to her was achingly heartfelt. He never wrote the book that was to memorialize her son, but his letters paid tribute and the exhibit includes a black-and-white photograph of him offering his respects at the boy’s grave.

Styling an outfit around a necklace by Israeli jewelry designer Ayala Bar.

Styling an outfit around a necklace by Israeli jewelry designer Ayala Bar.

I had no idea that Keats was such a prolific writer and illustrator, with more than 80 books to his credit, and author of 22 of those books. I found his Good is in the Mountain, which was published in 1966 and comprises excerpts of texts from different religions, spiritually nourishing. I have a new and deep appreciation for Keats’ artistry and life – born as Jacob Ezra Keats to poor Eastern European Jewish immigrants in Brooklyn in 1916. Bay Area locals should see this exhibit and his wonderful paintings and illustrations before it closes on February 24th. One hopes this exhibit travels to other cities. Keats and his work deserve a wider audience.

The Radical Camera and Black Sabbath exhibits
The other exhibits appealed to both David and me and the kids, which is a rarity to find a museum that appeals to all family members across all exhibits. “The Black Sabbath: The Secret Musical History of Black-Jewish Relations is in a big open room – conducive to dancing, in which my daughter and her friend indulged – with an antique piano and four tables equipped with iPads and headphones. You had a choice of listening to three African-American musical genres from the 1930s to the 1960s, which were influenced by Jewish music, life, and culture. In the playlist “Heebie Jeebies,” for example, you can catch the integration of Yiddish and Black jive during the swing era by such artists as Cab Calloway.

Keeping it simple to showcase Ayala Bar's necklace - J. Crew hot pink velveteen blouse, Club Monaco gold pleated mini and sparkly clutch, Elizabeth and James platforms in a neutral color, Carmela Rose earrings, Sundance bracelet, and rings by Lava 9 (Berkeley, CA) and BCBG Max Azria.

Keeping it simple to showcase Ayala Bar’s necklace – J. Crew hot pink velveteen blouse, Club Monaco gold pleated mini and sparkly clutch, Elizabeth and James platforms in a neutral color, Carmela Rose earrings, Sundance bracelet, and rings by Lava 9 (Berkeley, CA) and BCBG Max Azria.

David, who shares an appreciation of black-and-white photography with me, loved “The Radical Camera: New York’s Photo League, 1936-1951.” The exhibit comprises the work of more than 50 Photo League members, who embraced an aesthetic that honored realism and the documentary, and married social activism and art. The photographs capture the harshness of the Depression, World War II, Jim Crow, and the Red Scare periods of our history. This exhibit celebrates historical documentation through the beauty of black-and-white photography.

StoryCorps
Finally, I’m glad we ventured down one short wing of the museum on the first floor. At the end of a well-curated exhibit by contemporary Jewish architect Stanley Saitowitz is the StoryCorps StoryBooth. Amazingly and lucky for us locals, the Contemporary Jewish Museum is the first museum to host one of its recording booths. If you have listened to some of the recordings on National Public Radio (NPR), you are familiar with the largest oral history project in the country, capturing ordinary people’s lives and histories in their own words. A TV monitor played a loop of recordings that were translated into animated shorts. David and I wanted to keep watching, too, after shedding a few tears over some of the stories – particularly the one of the older couple from Brooklyn whose love remained strong throughout their many decades of marriage, even after his untimely death by cancer; the letters he wrote to her every day of their time together was replaced with the thousands of letters she received from NPR listeners when they heard about his passing, which she reads one a day. But we had to pull the kids away in order to see the rest of the museum. I brought home a postcard with information to reserve an interview time. Hopefully, the booth will still be there in the summer when my sister visits from San Antonio and we can record and preserve our parents’ immigrant lives.

We will certainly return to the Contemporary Jewish Museum. For locals, if you’ve never been, I highly recommend it. If you’re planning a visit to San Francisco, this should be on your list of destinations.

Ayala Bar's three-in-one necklace comprising glass beads, Swarovski crystals, mineral stones, fabric, and metal. It has a boho feel to it.

Ayala Bar’s three-in-one necklace comprising glass beads, Swarovski crystals, mineral stones, fabric, and metal. It has a boho feel to it.