Scottish Independence, Barcelona, Phyllis Lynch, Sonoma County Jazz, Niagara Surprise, Graton Ranchera, 23 and me, Memorial Hospital, Hardly Strictly Bluegrass

It is as if I have dropped off the face of the earth, yet again.  This post is likely to be scattered and maybe even excuse ridden, but will give some insight into the scattershot approach that I have to my life.  My blog about the Borne neighborhood of Barcelona is still in my mind, and I have not forgotten. In fact just yesterday the Scottish Independence movement lost the referendum to become independent.  I have heard that Catalonia will do the same thing in October.  Let's hope that it will not begin another civil war in Spain.

One project inevitable leaks into another.  I have been stuck on doing my enormous web page for my aunt and uncle. At this point I am almost finished, but since I am honoring my Aunt Phyllis at the moment, I am looking for representative pieces of her pottery. We own a few and I may just photograph them. Yet I know that she took several hundred slides of her pieces and I fear that I may have tossed them. In light of my hoarding tendencies, it would indeed be unusual.

I am bumping elbows in the jazz world again, and my friend Peter is talking about starting a combo. We have gotten together with mixed results. We met today and half the band did not show up- but for good reasons- a funeral. Still I met a woman singer, who calls herself a professional. I will take one step at a time.

I had a major regression into my college years. Giselle published a number of photos from my college years.  Among the photos was one with me and a gorgeous young lady, who at the time was in love with me. Also at the time I was not ready.  She is now my Facebook friend- well, they both are my Facebook friends.

In October a big Indian Casino opened up in our area, ten minutes away. I love to gamble. Now you know one more personal thing about me. Not only do the rest of my family share this vice, but my ancestors worked with horses for hundreds of years.  I am by nature conservative in my gambling.  Since October 2013 I have been on winning and losing streaks.  Now I have been on a winning streak for about 2 months.  Although I try not to wager too much ($100 to $300 any time I go), I am about $2000 in the positive. It scares me a little.

Speaking of ancestors 23 and me has interested me in my genealogy again.  I started when I lived in Washington, D.C. and had my mornings free. Now there are enormous resources available on line. I found out that my great great great grandfather Charles Lafferty was born in County Tyrone, now Northern Ireland, just on the boarder with Donegal.

A dear friend of mine is in the hospital. He is ten years younger that I am, a vibrant, happy, involved firefighter, who just retired. He is very seriously ill. When I went to see him, it really shook me up. I saw how a person could go from being vivacious to one step away from death- very sobering.

And painting- I have started the largest pieces of my life. One is about 4 feet square, the other about 5 feel by 6. I am please with the beginning but I still have a long way to do.

Last weekend was the Denevan family reunion- at our house. I really loved it. I married into a great family...

I look forward to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass on the first weekend of October.

I must have a photo that will illustrate one of these topics!

The Beat Poets

In my research about the Six Gallery the beat poets are central figures.  The beat poets are a loose configuration of poets originally out of New York City, many of whom came to San Francisco in the 1950s. Most went back to New York, but a few stayed.  Also San Francisco itself developed its own "beat" culture and had its "beat" poets.

When researching the community of beat poets 68 names came up, many of whom could in no fashion be considered beat. I am not really here to argue who or who is not a "beat".  The story of the Six Gallery is amply documented on the Internet.  I am looking for communities of artists and poets to clarify the social groupings in the sixties. My first attempt is to take the 68 names and cull out those who really do belong to a "beat" subculture.

Here are the first 30(in alphabetical order. I have noted with an asterisk those whom I would consider beat. Also the places mentioned are not necessary the places where they were born. Generally I chose the places where they lived a significant part of their working lives. (I hope that my columns survive.)

Beat Poets                 Born           Died                Place 1 Place 2      Place 3

1. Amiri Baraka     ( Oct 7, 1934 –  Jan 9, 2014                              NYC              (Everett LeRoi Jones)
2. Sinclair Beiles 1930 –              2000                    Johannesburg, SA     Paris
3. Carol Bergé 1928 –              2006                    NYC
4. Jane Bowles Feb 22, 1917 – May 4, 1973                            NYC     Morocco
5. Paul Bowles Dec 30, 1910 – Nov18, 1999                    NYC Sri Lanka (Ceylon)
6. John Brandi Nov 5, 1943                                    Los Angeles Sierra Nevada
7. Richard Brautigan Jan 30, 1935 – Sept 16, 1984                     Eugene, OR San Franciso, CA
8. Ray Bremser Feb 22, 1934 – Nov 3, 1998 NYC    Mexico
9. Chandler Brossard July 18, 1922-Aug 29, 1993                    Idaho Falls, ID NYC
10. James Broughton* Nov 10, 1913 – May 17, 1999                     San Francisco
11. Slim Brundage  Nov 29, 1903 –    Oct 18, 1990                       Chicago
12. Baird Bryant      Dec12, 1927 - , Nov 13, 2008                        Columbus, IN             Hemet, California
13. William S. Burroughs  Feb 5, 1914 – Aug 2, 1997                      St. Louis, MO            NYC                     Lawrence, KS
14. Carolyn Cassady*   April 28, 1923 – Sept 20, 2013                   Nashville, TN             NYC
15. Neal Cassady*   Feb 8, 1926 – Feb 4, 1968                              Denver, CO                San Francisco, CA
16. Neeli Cherkovski    Born 1945                                                 Santa Monica, CA      San Francisco, CA
17. Gregory Corso*      March 26, 1930 – Jan 17, 2001                   NYC                          San Francisco, CA
18. Elise Cowen          July 31, 1933 – Feb 27, 1962                      NYC
19. Diane di Prima*      August 6, 1934                                         NYC                          Oakland, CA (SF)
20. Kirby Doyle*          Nov 27, 1932 – April 5, 2003                      San Francisco, CA
21. William Everson  Sept 10, 1912 – June 3, 1994                       San Francisco; Oakland; Santa Cruz
22. Harry Fainlight* (British) 1935–1982                                       London, England
23. Lawrence Ferlinghetti*   born March 24, 1919                         NYC                          San Francisco, CA        
24. Michael John Fles           born Nov 11, 1936                            London, Eng               Los Angeles, CA
25. Jack Gelber (playwright)  April 12, 1932 – May 9, 2003            NYC
26. Brion Gysin*   Jan 19, 1916 – July 13, 1986                              London, Eng               Morocco                 Paris
27. Anselm Hollo   April 12, 1934 – Jan 29, 2013                           Helsinki, Finland         Boulder, CO  
28. John Clellon Holmes  March 12, 1926,  – March 30, 1988          Hartford, CN
29. Václav Hrabě  June 13, 1940- March 5, 1965                            Prague, CZ
30. Herbert Huncke*   Jan 9, 1915 – August 8, 1996                       NYC
31. Ted Joans        July 4, 1928 – April 25, 2003                            NYC         Seattle, WA/ Vancouver, BC

King Ubu Gallery and The Six Gallery

The six at King Ubu Gallery hosted the most important poetry reading of the twentieth century. (Read more about this.) In 1952 Harry Jacobus, “Jess” (Burgess Franklin Collins, and Robert Duncan opened the gallery at 3119 Filmore Street.  Among the artists were "Jess", Jacobus, David Parker, Elmer Bishoff. The six at King Ubu Gallery hosted the most important poetry reading of the twentieth century.  Artists included Brock Brockway and Lyn Brown Brockway, Edward Corbett, Roy De Forest, Robert Duncan, Norris Embry, Lilly Fenichel, Sonia Gechtoff, Miriam Hoffman, Harry Jacobus, Adelie Landis, Seymour Locks, Clair Mahl, Madeleine Dimond Martin, David Moore, Philip Roeber and Hassel Smith.  I got this list from a blurb on the book: An Art of Wondering. The King Ubu Gallery 1952-1953  Published by Natsoulas Noveloz, Davis, 1989. I was surprised to see Sonia’s Gechtoff’s name, as she was married to James Kelly, painter at the California School of Fine Arts and close friend of my uncle.

By 1954 poet, Jack Spicer, reopened the gallery renamed The Six Gallery.  The “six” were: Jack Spicer (poet) Wally Hedrick (painter), Deborah Remington (painter)David Simpson (painter), Hayward King (painter) , John Allen Ryan.  Today, Kasa Indian Eatery (perhaps Tacko, or a rug store) , there is plaque outside honoring Allen Ginsberg and his famous recitation of Howl. My uncle, John, was an old friend of Wally Hedrick and it has given me new interest in the beat poets and entire artist scene of 1950s San Francisco.

 Sonia Gechtoff

Wally Hedrick

The Blog Exchange

I have just joined the Blog Exchange. I am eager to see if there is an increase in traffic. Click on the links below to find out more about it.

Update on the Interruption

I am back home again, and if you have been reading, you notice that I haven't posted in a few weeks. The explanation has to do with the entry I am working on. I was truly moved by my tour of the Born Archeological site in the Born, Barcelona. If anyone here is going to Budapest, I highly recommend the airbnb flat my son and I rented. That is the photo that I am posting here.  I still will continue to post the rest of my trip in my own time.  My trip to Budapest was wonderful, and England, very good.  I did see the Tour de France race through London.

At the moment I am focusing my self on several things: visually documenting my travels via paper and digitally, practicing my jazz for possibly joining a group, and preparing to paint some new three diminutional paintings. I am also trying to set up a mirror system similar to that in Tim's Vermeer.

Barcelona: the Cathedral of the Sea

I will try to keep this complaint brief. Traveling in and out of Barcelona Airport has only been a hassle. I didn't mind taking a late flight that would get me to the airport at approximated 11 PM to Midnight. What I was not prepared for was the French Air Traffic Controller Strike, and how it impacted our flight.   I was to fly WIZZ Air, but WIZZ Air subcontracted to Atlas Air. I actually thanked the crew while departing as a 2:15 AM arrival was far better than spending the night at the airport. After taking a bus that stopped at every stop between the airport and Plaza de Catalunya, a cab, I arrived at my hotel (Martinval) sometime in the very wee hours. Perhaps I will post a blog on being a savvy European traveler. There is plenty to know.

The location of the hotel on Bruc (Eximpla) was lovey. I walked much of the morning, sometimes in the wrong direction, to make my way to the old city. Mistakes in direction, although considerably adding to miles (kms) walked, can bring other bonuses, especially in a city like Barcelona. Accidentally I came upon an gorgeous Art Deco hotel, that has regular jazz. I also came upon one of Gaudi’s first works, named Casa Vincens, a  spectacular tile house built for a tile maker. It is a private home recently sold for 27 million Euros. If you would like to see the inside, it is open to visitors one day a year, St. Rita’s Day,  May 22. Maybe you want to plan your holiday around that event.

Note in the first photo 2 African men holding ropes attached at four ends to the corners of their blankets on which are displayed purses. I remember seeing this years ago in Florence, but not they have the escape technology down to a science. They sell fake name brand purses, and the police are constantly chasing them, so they on alert constantly. I saw as many as ten of them grab the purses and flee down the stairs to the subway in a matter of seconds.

I worked my way down to the old town, the Born. This is the area where Bill and I stayed several years ago. We stayed in a centrally located little flat on one of the old streets. We were a block from the Born’s main street and the same distance to the back of the cathedral.

As preparation for my trip four years ago I read the book, the Cathedral of the Sea by Elizabet Gomez, about the building and history of Maria del Mare Cathedral, built by the local people between 1329 and 1383, meant to be a people's church. Through the many years of Barcelona history it served the people of this neighborhood. It has strong Romanesque bones, with stone columns said to be the narrowest in medieval architecture, supporting the massive structure. The large central round stain glass window was destoyed in an earthquake in 1496 and finally replaced in 1902,

Gone are the renaissance and Baroque hand carved altar pieces, destroyed in a fire that raged for 3 days- eliminating the  altar pieces, paintings, statues, and most of the stained glass windows, except for a few, high in the upper part of the front of the building. The year was 1936 and Spain was mired in Civil War. There is a story there about the perpetrators, but I don't know it. I would expect arson, from some anticlerical group of rebels.

I left the cathedral thinking of the Born, its history and especially the marketplace- The Born Market- my most moving tour. Next 

A Coruña

Today is Thursday, June 26- Review of events- Took a taxi to the train station in SdC about 10 AM. We arrived in A Coruña about 11 AM. We met a nice father and daughter, Australians, who had walked the Camino down from France to San Sebastian. They found it very difficult and really did not recommend it. It took them five weeks. Donna and Lennie stated that they wanted to spend the day at the beach. We had a slight kerfuffle, as I walk pretty quickly even when I am trying to slow down. It was about a mile and a half to the beach, and Donna could see that I was primed to do one of my quick walks, but I had agreed to walk them to the beach, so I could know where they were.  With permission I launched myself on my walk. I wanted to take the walk around the peninsula. The wide beach was almost devoid of people. The low clouds as well as the chill in the air seemed to discourage swimming altogether. The wide walkway followed the beach and then rose with the cliffs. In the distance I saw the famous tower. I had heard about the tower of Hercules, a Roman lighthouse that had persisted through the ages.  As I came closer, the sight was more and more engaging, set out on a cliff, surrounded by trails. As I climbed the hill, I saw more and more visitors, some just hiking or exploring and some headed straight for the lighthouse.

The lighthouse itself was a reasonable 3 Euro to enter. The detailed exhibit elucidated the history of the tower, its phases as well as the numerous artifacts that archeologists had found. The most amazing, I thought, was the enormous carved stone with a large hole in the middle. It housed the fire for the light house as well as large polished mirror (not found) that intensified the light from the flame. The tower is about as high as the Campanili in Venice. Climbing the stone stairs was made easier by reading more about the tower on different levels. Also the tower was designed and built with very high arches inside to add to the strength of the tower, as well as using the minimum amount of stone- Roman engineering from 2000 years ago is truly amazing.  At the top was a beautiful windy view of the city.

Also the guidebook recommended a walk through the old part of the city as well as Bellas Artes, the art museum. The old part of the city was elusive, as I thought that I was walking in the correct direction. I suddenly ran across Bellas Artes purely by chance. It is a wonderful museum, neatly organized by rooms and time periods. I really enjoy the unusual and this museum had more than its share. I love to see extreme versions of heaven and hell.  There was a nineteenth century painting of the end of a battle and the two armies are facing each other with the dead in the background.  On the left a dashing man on a horse looks  apologetically at the leader on the other side. On the ground was an elderly well-dressed man who had been obviously held up in a turned over bearer with a seat. Most of the other army was either looking at the dead man or the dashing soldier.  Especially one who looked like a military leader in the front with a stunned and hurt look in his eyes- almost to say, “Why did you do this to him?” Another wounded soldier is being carried off and cursing the other side angrily.  The horse of the dashing man has a bit of blood on it, apparently hurt a bit in the fray.

Other paintings showed prominent and humble people from the Galician coast. Also the rocky coasts, mountains and country side were painted.   I could go on like this, but for your sake I won’t. I will try to remember to include some of the images.

There was at once a wonderful and horrifying exhibit of Goya’s etchings of war. Also there were some of bullfighting and cartoons that seemed to make fun of the bourgeoisie (if there were officially a bourgeoisie in the early nineteenth century). Those were really cartoons. If my Spanish were better, I would have gotten more of the jokes.

After leaving the museum I started finally to find parts of the old center of the town. Frankly I was disappointed. Probably the reason is that Santiago is such a preserved and beautiful medieval town, it would be hard to match.  I wanted to connect with Donna and Lennie again, as our parting was not uncivil, but a little edgy. Unless I did, it would be the last time I would see either of them until after my trip. I chose a restaurant purely because it had Internet service. It turned out it had all the worst features of a Galician restaurant. Don’t get me wrong. Galician food can be delicious, but it tends to lack vegetables. I had the experience last night when I ordered pickled sardines. Twelve pickled sardines came on a plate. That was all. Today I ordered grilled shrimp, and again 12 salty grilled whole shrimp and that is all- bread is extra- twelve Euro, a real rip off. But I had Internet, and I messaged Donna and sure enough I got a message back.  I saw the address on a napkin and she found it on the map.  They were  walking from the beach, so it took a bit of time and we finally met up.  Now for some reason in A Coruña all restaurants seem to close from 4 PM to 7:30 PM and this was just the time that they arrived. We could not get anything to eat there. We decided on taking the train to Santiago and having something to eat there.

I felt a little pressed for time, as my plane was supposed to leave at 9:40 PM, so I took a cab. As things go I could have walked to the airport. It is now 11 PM and no sign of a plane, only the words “DELAYED.”

The upshot of the delay was a 1 PM departure time- arriving in Barcelona at 2:15 AM. I finally crawled into my room on Calle Bruc at somewhere around 4 AM.

My X Rated Last Paragraph

Wednesday

Donna and Lennie decide they want to go to the market. This day they devote to shopping. I visit the modern Galician art museum. I find it a very disappointing use of space- not to discount the one artist that they exhibited.  I also visited the Museo de la Pobo Galgo house in the former Convent Igerxa de San Dominicos de Boneval (Dominican Nuns), the Galician people’s museum, really wonderful. They go into detail about old fishing techniques, farming, traditional dress, traditional music, ceramics, architecture, religion and of course music. Music is especially useful because they take apart each instrument and use the Galician word for that part. They do this also for just about every object used in the cultural areas mentioned about. Everything is fully and clearly illustrated. It is just what I like, learning with pictures.

Cano at 5 PM takes us to the peninsula. We see Jose and his wife and baby. He is a gaita maker and we see his gaitas as well as his took. We come in for a drink and a short snack of ox and pork sausage and a beer.  

 We stop at the Celtic ruins, Castro de Baroña.  Remarkable ruins in wonderful architecture of a people, the Galaeci, who lived on the coast about 2500 years ago. Gallaeci lived in castros, annular forts, with one or more concentric earthen or stony walls, with a trench in front of each one. They were frequently located at hills, or in seashore cliffs and peninsulas. Some well known castros can be found, in the seashore, at Fazouro. The Galaeci were skilled in metal work, especially gold. When the Romans colonized it in about 200 CE, the Galaeci participated in the Roman army and it is here where the language of Galician and Portuguese has its roots.  Also link to this blog under October  5, 2012 to find out more, and see some great photos of this amazing site. Also see my photos below.

On the way home Donna chats on and on with Cano. I love it. Since they are both nurses, they share a lot of interests and can compare different systems. It is interesting to talk to Cano about the two languages Spanish and Galician. He said that he has two parts of his brain to handle them both. He said that he feels no real connection to the Spanish or to a Spanish nationality. He feels that he shares much more with the Portuguese. It is almost as if they share a common language, but it is more than that. It is an approach to life.

A word about “X” in pronunciation: Many Galician words have an X. The X is pronounced like a soft J (ja). It also may be thought of as a really soft ch. When you pronounce them for yourself, you will find how close they are.  The X in Greek is pronounced “Key”, as in the abbreviation for Christ’s name- XP or “Key-Rho”. They stand for the letters Ch-r and an abbreviation of “Christos”, the Christ. They also have an X in Catelonia, and that is pronounced more like an “sh”, as in Eximple (pronounced ee- SHEM- pla). That is the district of Barcelona where I will be staying. One added note is that I had a Chinese student many years ago when I taught high school. She spelled her name Xoon. She said, “Just pronounce it ‘Soon’.” I don’t know the Chinese pronunciation exactly, by the “s” sound must be close.