Readings by the Windham Campbell Prize Winners 2015

There are nine winners of the Windham Campbell Prize. A friend said "if you want to know what a million dollars looks like, just look at those winners", each one gets $150,000.00
Last night's reading at the Yale Art Gallery was a good chance to hear the winners read from their own material with only a small amount of commentary from the host.

Drama:
Jackie Sibblies Drury: She read from a work in progress that has to do with surveillance, information, enhanced interrogation, all taking place in an NSA-like building. Watching how she distinguishes each character was interesting--she raises a hand to identify which character is talking. Must seek out some of her work. Part of the reason to go to the festival is to listen to people you know of and to discover new writers.

Helena Edmundson: Did not attend.

Debbie Tucker Green: Did not attend.

Fiction:
Teju Cole: He read from Open City, his 2011 novel. The passage read was about the evoking of memories while hearing something. It was cinematic in its description. I have read some of his non-fiction, now it's time to read his fiction.

Helon Habila: He read from his book Oil on Water. There is a deliberateness to his writing, a slowness almost, making you feel what the characters feel. The passage involved a reporter, a kidnapping and a fever. Definitely going to find his books.

Ivan Vladislavic:He read from his non-fiction Portrait with Keys: The City of Johannesburg Unlocked. His descriptions are so evocative. In this case he read about a snowstorm in Jburg (as he referred to it). It takes politics, people and nature and wraps it all up. Definitely deserves a follow up to read.

Non-Fiction:
Geoff Dyer: He read a "lecture" about Jackson Pollock that was both funny, sad, and true. It was also in a sense a bit of satire about holding up artists as these people who can do anything and get away with it.

John Jeremiah Sullivan: He read a story that involved Jefferson and Meriwether (yes, that Jefferson and that Meriwether) and Robert Penn Warren. You have to read it to believe. It involved the murder of a slave named George. It is a horrible story yet crafted and well told by JJ Sullivan. Can't wait to read more by him.

Edmund de Waal: He read from a new book, The White Road, that debuts October 2 in London, It's about porcelain and its history but it is also about de Waal himself and his pursuit. He wrote the The Hare with Amber Eyes which I can't wait to read--it's about a collection of netsukes but that hardly does it justice.

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Really, that auditorium should have been filled. The opportunity to see world class writers read from their work for free was a privilege. I learned, I was inspired and I was reminded of the power of the printed word.

Windham Campbell Prizes 2015

Living in New York City it is easier to connect to great writers and other artists. Still, living in Connecticut doesn't shut you out of that access. After all, New York City is still about two hours away and you can still see great things.

The great part about living not that far away from Yale is that they have amazing events that are free all the time.

The part of the year I look forward to most as a writer is the Windham Campbell Prizes Festival. It is a nearly week long event during which nine people are awarded a prize ($150,000.00 each) and there are events the entire week.

Last year's event featuring Zadie Smith meant there was a line out the door. This year with Hilton Als there was no line but there was a profound speech about being black, gay, and living New York City. It was a microscopic view into a world that was being ravaged by AIDS.

I go to the talks not only to hear people I already know about but to listen to others I've never heard of. The prize winners are a diverse group of people from all over the world.

The Art of Fiction: Teju Cole, Helon Habila, Ivan Vladislavic; moderated by Michael Cunningham.

This was a great opportunity to hear, as a writer, that you are not alone in that universe. As Teju Cole said (approximately) "you don't want to go into the basement alone so you take the writer with you."

Hearing a short portion of their writing was a delight, particularly the piece from Mr. Vladislavic which involved taking a photo and its shutter acting as a guillotine.

A Life of White Bowls: Edmund de Waal; moderated by Tim Barringer.

The FT has called him "the most accomplished British potter alive today". Mr. de Waal only produces white pottery yet it is the history behind those pots that informs us. And yes, it felt as though my very British influenced undergraduate education served me well during this talk.

http://windhamcampbell.org/

http://on.ft.com/1Fef2u0

Today would have been your 58th Birthday

In your honor I did the following:
Made a Chocolate Glazed Chocolate Tort
Made a steamed artichoke with garlic butter
Made a Reserva de la Familia/Grand Marnier Margarita in the boot.

Michael died September 5 2009

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone
Silence the piano and with muffled drum
Bring out the piano, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky, He Is Dead
Put crepe bows around the white necks of the public doves
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves

He was my North, my South, my East, my West
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood
For nothing now can ever come to any good
--W.H. Auden

Summer Picnic

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming work out the menu for an upcoming soiree at my house.
Starters:
Fresh Mango Salsa
Shrimp & Cannelini Beans
Main Course:
Pernil
Tortillas
Garlic Mojo
Tomato/Corn/Mozzarella Salad
Dessert:
Chocolate Pear Ice Cream
Lemon Mint Frozen Yogurt
Drinks:
Signature Cocktail (something in the ginger/mint/sparkling wine area;although someone is bringing the liqueur du jour--St. Germain (elderflower))
Wine
Lemonade
Water

PJ: The Glass House

The Glass House: Part 1
It was like getting a birthday wish. Waiting for cake, presents and getting what you want that day.
Recently I got that wish. I got to spend time at Philip Johnson's Glass House. Firstly, Glass House is kind of a misnomer since it's more than the Glass House you get to see. The Glass House is meant to encompass the other structures on the premises.
I have always wanted to go, alas, I did not know Mr. Johnson personally so the chances of getting an invite were slim to none.
What you see in the photo is the Visitors Guide. It is a set of postcards with descriptions on the back and even one that has space for sketching. The Glass House Visitors Center (GHVC) is right across the street from the New Canaan Metro North Railroad Station. The GHVC has many videos on a continuing loop and a selection of books to purchase. If you are a fan of Moleskine notebooks, there is a special "The Glass House" edition which you can purchase there or online (around $25.00)
The Glass House is about a five minute van ride away. It is best to schedule an end of day tour as that one allows you time to photograph. Only the end of day tours allow photographs. The 3:30 tour has only 8 people so it is a nice small group and the woman who led our tour was very knowledgeable.
I will be writing about The Glass House in stages. Lots of photographs to show.

Robert Mondavi

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone
Silence the piano and with muffled drum
Bring out the piano, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky, He Is Dead
Put crepe bows around the white necks of the public doves
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves

He was my North, my South, my East, my West
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood
For nothing now can ever come to any good
--W.H. Auden

Eagles, Fabric, Combines

Robert Rauschenberg

If you live in the central Connecticut area, you can see Retroactive I at the Wadsworth Atheneum.

El Batey

For a long time now (actually always), I have disliked front lawns. This became even more apparent when I bought a house and the lawn had to be mowed. I have found it completely unrewarding to mow the lawn. In fact, a lot of it was grass but a lot of it was weeds. So I was mowing weeds (or I was paying someone else to mow weeds).
My parents have no front lawn. They have turned their front yard into an oasis of flowers, herbs, vegetables and some fruit. Grass does not grow there.
I have been trying to figure out what to do with my front yard. It lingers there, waiting. For a while I had lavender lining both sides of the walk but they faded away with the snow. It was too much for them.
I was waiting for a sign; something to push me along. The signs I was waiting for came along just as I was deciding what to do. The first one was Edible Estates. Edible Estates made me think it could be beautiful to have a front lawn (or rather a front space) that was also not just a piece of green. The second was Michael Pollan's article for the New York Times Magazine on what we as individuals could do in the battle to save our planet, our food chain and our selves. To paraphrase Mr. Pollan, plant a garden.
And so I have decided to plant that garden. It will involve fruits, vegetables, flowers and herbs. The front lawn (yeah, I still call it that) is a convenient place to have a garden (yeah, I still call it that). When I think about it, there is not a day that goes by that I don't walk down the front stairs, look at the weeds, dandelions and other things growing there. The front of my house I see every day. The back of the house, where most people have their gardens, is kind of an afterthought.
So why El Batey? El Batey in Puerto Rico is the front of the house where we went to play as kids. It was dirt, no grass and where we went out to just hang. It is also refers to a ceremonial place where a game was played by the Taino indians.
Now I just need to come up with a new name for lawn and garden.

Porter House

The Restaurant, not the cut of meat
I have an interest in jazz; specifically bebop and drill that down to Charlie Parker. This past Saturday I went to see Phil Schaap at Jazz at Lincoln Center for the signing of a book. Wandering around the huge center you realize that at around 2pm the activity mostly takes place below the 5th floor and lots of it down below at Whole Foods. Wandering around the floor that has such places as Per Se (prix fixe 250), Masa (really, really expensive sushi) and Porter House. If you didn't get it from the name, it is a steak house. Yes, expensive. In reviewing the menu I spotted the prix fixe lunch menu. Sometimes prix fixe lunch menus are disappointing; they are limiting in both choices and quality. Here you get a choice of a starter (caesar salad, a slight bit overdressed; or the beet salad,(I thought I was getting regular beets but these were nice baby heirloom beets with a lovely cheese; it was delicious)).
The main course choices were salmon (okay, we automatically dismissed this since we were there to eat meat) or a hangar steak. The hangar steaks we requested at rare and medium rare. They both came out exactly as we had ordered!!! Absolutely beautifully sliced with perfect shoestring french fries (hot; crisp on the outside, moist on the inside).
Let me digress or not, it's all part of the meal. Their service is very attentive. Unlike a lot of places where the less busy they are the less attention they pay to you, the staff at PH was very good. We had a glass of wine each with the meal.
As we were handed dessert menus my friend wondered if we should have been handed dessert menus because dessert was part of the prix fixe and perhaps there was a limited selection. No such deal. We were handed the full list, no limitations. I had the chocolate layer cake with chocolate ice cream and he had a hazelnut beggar's purse with ice cream.
So to recap, lovely salads, terrific entrees, tasty desserts: $24.00 per person. Probably one of the best bargains for lunch I have had in a really long time.
Note: the photo above is from the Porter House website.

Charlie Parker

Bird,
Happy Birthday.

Good Morning Max: Bird & Prez

The great Max Roach is gone. When I lived in New York City, every morning I would listen to Birdflight. Birdflight is one of Phil Schaap's radio shows on WKCR. It plays from 8:20 to 9:30 am. Monday thru Friday. Without fail, every morning (or at least to the best of my recollection) Phil would shout out, "GOOD MORNING MAX".
Remembrances of Max are everywhere. For almost all of the music would be "Tommy Potter on bass, Bird on alto sax and Max Roach on drums, Miles on trumpet."
Thanks to the wonder that is the internet, I don't have to pine for Phil Schaap's broadcasts. Most importantly I don't have to pine for the birthday broadcasts.
In progress now is the Lester Young/Charlie Parker birthday broadcast. All Prez and all Bird all the time for several days.
Right now I am listening to Prez; it will stay on all night working its way into my subconscious and into the Bird broadcast.
Good night Max.

Duck Fat & Rabelais

There are no pictures of the paninis, there are no leftovers. Only the menu to remind me that I have to go back. I was in Maine over the weekend for a wonderful wedding. Late into the party we were all talking about food and wine (as we did almost all day) when we finally got around to talking about where we were going to eat the next day.
Someone mentioned a place in Portland named Duck Fat. The important point of the discussion was the fact that they fry their french fries in duckfat. That's right, duckfat. In spite of the fact that it was late and we had been drinking, I still remembered the name of the place.
The next morning we set out for Portland address in hand and with hunger as our impetus. We ordered the Meatloaf panini with was thinly sliced meatloaf with red onions which we soft. Definitely comfort food. The other sandwich we ordered was the special panini: Duck confit with Blueberry preserves and Goat cheese. This was absolutely delicious. I know you are thinking, how can this possibly go together. Of course it does. Just like foie gras and apples go together. The sweet and the savory are a wonderful match. The panini is big enough that you can eat one half and leave the other half for later.
The Duck Fat fries were also wonderful. They had skin on and they that a rich brown patina to them. An order of the large really is large and is plenty for two people. There are dipping sauces and we opted for the truffle ketchup. The truffle flavor is subtle, certainly not intrusive.
We were also in need of coffee which Duckfat also does a very good job of. Oh yeah and we ordered some beignets to go. They provided a delicious accompaniment to the coffee while we were driving out of Portland.
But we didn't drive out of Portland until we'd visited Rabelais. This wonderful bookstore on Middle Street (right down the street from Duckfat) is devoted to books on food, wine and certain arts. The couple used to live in Brooklyn, NY and are incredibly nice. It is spacious, carries books published both in the USA and abroad and they can find things for you.
All in all, I never thought of Portland as a destination but I think a little weekend trip up there is in order.

Brussels/Bruxelles: Man does not live by bread alone

Wittamer Chocolates
What makes one decide to visit a place? Is it inspiration? Is it long buried desire? Is it whim? In my case it was none of those. I was looking for a place that was a bargain at this time of year and I stumbled upon Brussels. When I say bargain, I mean bargain. Expedia had an incredible flight/hotel deal that was lovely. The Stanhope Hotel (about which I will write later is a 5 ***** hotel)
First let us tackle the chocolate scene. For some, chocolate may as well be a religion. For me, it is a lovely delicious taste sensation. One of my first stops in Brussels was Wittamer. Brussels is not only famous for its chocolates, it is particularly famous for its pralines and its creme fraiche chocolates. The creme fraiche ones can not be left out too long. They must be consumed within a certain amount of time. I bought some based upon what their fillings were and then divided them according to the Wittamer divisions: Ganache, Alcools, Creme Fraiche. I set them up side by side and tasted. Below are the notes on my little chocolate tasting.

Le Ganache

1. Earl Grey (Dark ganache from Earl Grey tea): Chocolate aroma before you bite into it. Difficult to really get an Earl Grey flavor or aroma. Just tastes like ganache. I am a big earl grey fan so I am very in tune to the flavors of Earl Grey but nothing here. Disappointing

2. Poivre (Dark ganache with Madagascar pepper): Chocolate aroma. Once you bite into it, you can smell the pepper and you think it is going to be spicy,that it is going to light your tongue on fire but it doesn't. It's weird. All of the pepper flavor but none of the heat. White pepper and black pepper. I like this a lot.

Les Alcools:

1. Palet d'Or (Cognac ganache): Chocolate aroma. A little cognac flavor and aroma but nothing major. You get cognac flavor but it is subtle. At least it isn't liquid.

Le Cremes Fraiches

1. Bouchon Grand Marnier (Fresh cream with Grand Marnier): Once you bite into this there is a creamy, almost marshmallow like consistency. You definitely taste the grandma. Good orange flavor, not overwhelming cognac. I thought it might but it doesn't. But still, you get the alcohol. Strong finish

2. Leslie (Fresh cream with candied pineapple and black chocolate): Dark chocolate flavors but muddied otherwise, Don't really get a sense of the pineapple at first. A kind of artificial flavor and then just a hint of pineapple and it goes away. Too bad, I was looking forward to this. I love pineapples. The only one I did not finish.

3. Carioca (Fresh cream with the coffee of Colombia): Intense rich coffee flavor but in a light kind of mousse way. After the cream evaporates the dark chocolate shell flavors come out. Very nice.

My favorite was the Poivre followed by the Grand Marnier and the Carioca. How they managed to get the pepper flavor without the spice, I'd really like to know. As for the rest, they felt average, which is really too bad since I had heard so much about this chocolatier.

Creamy but not Icy

Truffle Butter
There is a saying that goes "eat to live, not live to eat". I understand that the inherent germ of knowledge in that is we should should not be gluttons. Understood.
Yet none of the food that we "eat to live" should be boring. Everyday food should be flavorful and give you a reason to pick up another tasty morsel of what's on your plate and put it in your mouth.
Which brings me to the photo. It looks like chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. It most assuredly is not.
It is D'Artagnan Black Truffle Butter. Simply put it is creamy butter and bits of black truffles. It is also one of the most simply delicious things I have in my refrigerator. I stir a small amount into scrambled eggs. I accompany it with some thinly sliced toasted whole wheat bread and I have a delicious breakfast.
And if you have not had enough truffle butter in the morning, restrain yourself, have it at lunch mixed in with some boiled pasta. Not enough truffle butter yet? Dinner can be a lovely experience if you take a small filet mignon, sear to medium rare, slice, place dollops of truffle butter on each, consume with crusty french bread. But really, try not to do this all in one day.
Let's face it, it's all calories, the questions is: how do you want to use them?

YAG: Not quite done yet.

African Art
Recently there was an article in the New York Times about the Kahn building and the collection/exhibitions. I have to admit that African art has always been a problem for me. The problem was not with the art; it was with my understanding of the exhibitions. Many African art exhibits I'd been to have often been out of context, explanations lacking.
As you can see Africa is a huge continent and trying to understand it has proven to be a challenge. It has often been the same with Chinese art and admittedly other non-Western art.
But the great part about reading books, magazines, etc., is that it opens our eyes to what we may have overlooked in the past. It makes you consider something outside your boundaries of comfort and thereby brings a new understanding to the world around you, whether that world is global or local.
The New York Times article inspired me to consider another visit (not that I actually think I am done with YAG, next on the agenda is Asian Art) and to go straight up to the second floor.
The exhibition is concise with a fair amount of accompanying information. Photographs of the objects in situ help you understand their role in that particular society. It also gives you a view (albeit a very narrow one) of the different parts of Africa; everything from fertility figures to crosses to banners.
The exhibition can be enjoyed by everyone. During my visit there, children were just as intrigued as adults by the objects on the display.
Do you think it's possible they would let me borrow a few pieces to contemplate in my own home?

Dog vs. Cat

I have a dog. A big, fluffy wonderful dog. Fluffy acquired me at the Humane Society. Not my job to change his name, he couldn't care less.
But this is not about my dog. It is about the cat I found outside my house when I came home tonight. It wasn't even a full grown cat. Somewhere between a kitten and cat. I thought it was just a stray but then I saw a collar. Perhaps there was hope reuniting this feline with its owner. I lured the kitty over with bread (hope that kitty appreciated extra virgin olive oil and garlic ciabatta) and looked for a tag. None was to be found but there were two collars. A shiny, embroidered one and a flea collar.
Okay, so he belongs to someone. Did I mention I have a dog? Did I mention that my dog hates cats? Actually I don't know whether he hates cats as he has never caught one. I just know they always run faster. Apparently the cats don't want to know either whether Fluffy hates them. Let's call it animal detente.
Where was I? Oh yeah. Hoping that I could reunite the cat with the owner, I thought I might put some posters up, try for the tearful reunion. I wanted to put the cat out on the back porch, keep him safe. I didn't want to pick him up and perhaps be scratched; then I had an idea.
Let's flash forward to the moral of the the story: Cats do not like leashes and will not allow themselves to be led.
The second moral of the story: Some people just don't want to be helped.
Hope the kitty finds his way home.
n.b. yes, that's a picture of my Fluffy.

Financial Times

Numbers, charts, and of course, Martin Lukes.
I cannot pretend to be a high-flying financial wizard. The lovely salmon colored Financial Times (it's evil twin is New York Press) is full of financial information. Lots of it. There are two things I love about this daily.
1. The Weekend section which arrives on my doorstep on Saturdays is full of everything. Food, wine, books, theater, travel, restaurants, interviews, movies, etc.
2. Martin Lukes. No arrival of FT is more anticipated than Thursday's issue which features the inner workings of a-bglobal.
This ongoing telenovela via email missives can be understood even if you arrive in medias res. Martin Lukes heads up a-bglobal. Martin is a completely unaware person (except of his own importance of course) who goes about doing what he wants. a-bglobal is his playground and everyone else is but a clay accessory to be molded (although molded is a rather mild word for what he does to people) to his wishes.
If Martin asks you a question it will only be so that he can then insert his own experience into it, i.e. but enough about me, what do you think of me?
Anyone who has worked for a large corporation will understand the cast of characters.

No Wrath of Kahn

Concrete Sol
This will be the last of the Yale Art Gallery/Louis Kahn Building entries. Since I never saw the building before the renovation, I cannot comment on its merits or demerits (nor would I be qualified to do so). I can only comment on what I see now. To me it is all summarized in this photo. The knot in the concrete, the Sol LeWitt mural and the tetrahedral ceiling.
Then again, it may not be the last entry. I am still intrigued by the Richard Serra Stacks, I haven't really done the African art floor, not to mention the very, very cool slow moving video with the two women and the Jesus-like figure rising out of the water. You have to go see it. It is like looking at a moving picture. Literally.

Elevator/Stairs

Being Moved vs. Moving
Yes, I can be lazy. I admit I like taking elevators. But at the Yale Art Gallery taking the stairs affords you an intimate view of the construction of the building.
Also you can look up at the triangular ceiling while standing in what feels like a silo.