Pittsfield and the Arts

Born and raised in Pittsfield it's great to see the life, culture and the arts starting to thrive. Each and every time I go back to visit family I hit a new restaurant and take in the museums and art shows. Some of my favorite destinations include Ferrin Gallery, The Lichtenstein Center for the Arts, Barrington Stage Company, Brix Wine Bar, Mission Bar and Tapas and the many new cafe's and restaurants. Of course I then always make stops at MASS M0CA and The Clark which are just a short drive away.

Check out the following for what the media is starting to say about Pittsfield:

WBUR: Artist Pioneers Bring New Life to Pittsfield

WBUR: Pittsfield, Once a Speed Bump, Now a Destination

The Boston Globe also wrote a nice article entitled The Art of Saving a City which can be accessed with a fee here: Globe Archive

Road Trip V

Destination Four: Mammoth Cave National Park in Kentucky

I’m not a caveman and by that I mean the idea of hanging out in caves only makes me want to see the sun even more. But Mammoth Cave was worth the 3 hour/3 mile voyage with lanterns. Its mammothness comes from its length. There are 400 miles of cave – the longest in the world. Not the biggest cave room for acreage but longest in tunnels. I think a better name would be “Longest Cave” but Mammoth will have to do.

After the trip below I came up and saw 25 deer – no kidding 25 in the stretch of about a half an hour. Why someone would find sport in killing these creatures is beyond me.

Destination 4.5:

The birthplace of Abraham Lincoln and his humble beginnings in a log cabin. When I was a youth I remember reading about Abe’s early years. How he learned math and writing, writing with coal on a shovel and such.


Destination Five:

West Virginia – the last state! Hoorah! But where to go?? Harper’s Ferry is where. A full day was wasted searching until I picked Harper’s Ferry off the map, located in the northeast corner of the state. I did not know why I wanted to go there but it seemed significant some how. Of course when I arrived the “how” was evident in its history. Yet again a National Park, Harper’s Ferry was a town frozen in time. What struck me most was the Brown Insurrection and a quote by one Frederick Douglass – “John Brown began the war that ended American slavery and made this a free Republic.” Besides a case of wine, I purchased Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass An American Slave. Written by Himself. A tale of how he educated himself – learned to read and write while a slave. How he was inspired to do so and how it opened his eyes to freedom, which he was eventually to attain. A fitting end to my road trip and the completion of my 50 state journey: A reminder of the bloodshed to keep this country whole, those who were kept down along the way and more importantly those who rose up.

Road Trip IV

Destination Three:

Selma Alabama – Sometimes you’re given a shock when you arrive at your destination. It didn’t help that I arrived on a Sunday, tired from eight hours of drive, hungry with nothing open but fast-food. But my hotel (Saint James) and concierge made up for my dour mood. I took to the streets just before sunset and photographed the most obvious thing about Selma. That it was yet again a desolate shell of what was: empty, lonely facades awaiting a revival. The beautiful sadness of this town is that the civil rights movement had integral moments here. One can penetrate the memory and emotion connected with the bridge – a symbolic point of the Selma to Montgomery March. At the bridge I photographed its checkered metal-work girders overhead, a distinctive feature visible in old pictures of the march.

The housing projects surrounding Brown Church act as a modern day reminder that the color of the skin is still an issue in 2010. To have beautiful but rundown historical buildings and devote energies to a cookie-cutter housing project around landmarks of the Civil Rights Movement is a slap in the face and a suppressing push down for an African American attempting to move up. It says, “You’re different in a bad way so go and live there. Oh and by the way – you have the right to vote if you want to.” The housing project was there back in ’65. When I walked through – early A.M. with kids going to school, there was emptiness in the faces – both of parents and the kids. It was as if the struggle was over but what was it for? A new struggle needs to be defined to counter cultural inertia and political and economic shackles.
N.B. This is one of the areas known for its stance and eradication of the Jim Crow Laws, yet a photograph of the day compared with today shows the shadow of Jim Crow still present.

In many ways Pawhuska Oklahoma is similar to Selma Alabama. The physical characteristics of architectural and historical shells help make the comparison. But looking deeper one sees lost culture and memories. Pawhuska was a town built on cattle and oil. Selma was built on cotton and the confederacy. Now they are built on memories and those memories are tattered and worn. A creative economy built on industry and art would seem to be its only hope forward.

The other connection is suppressed culture – on being Native Americans and the other African Americans. Pawhuska is situated in a reservation. The Tall Grass Prairie is a natural reminder of Native American ways and in Selma we have a confederacy/civil rights tension at play. Possibly both towns are examples that cultural build up on the backs of suppressed culture eventually fails. Allowing each its own diversity and prosperity – life can weave disparate yet coherent tales. Diversity should be seized as a beautiful thing. It’s interesting that diversity in my mind’s eye is essential and interesting. It’s what I look for and gravitate to. Yet this same concept is what causes war around the world.

After a push to Montgomery to follow the civil rights trail to Martin Luther King Jr.’s church and the State House I headed north. Got off the highway and interacted with some down home Alabamians. Saw a confederate lovin’ man who had the aura of a hatin’ man. But then met some regular folk. One woman I was talking to about the situation of the blacks that exists now in Selma responded with – “Maybe it’s their determination.” A cotton farmer that I met while photographing his farm equipment said, “Whach you doin’ down here?” He thought I was picking his cotton and said, “You can pick as much of that cotton as you want.” Made me think of my trip’s theme song – “I Never Picked Cotton.” Of course I wasn’t pickin’ his cotton but I can see why he might think I was. Johnny’s song tells the story of a man so well. The man ends up killing someone because that someone tells him to “go back to his cotton sack!” The only thing this man was proud of was that he never did pick cotton! The power of a decision to define a life was represented by this simple song.

Lyrics: I Never Picked Cotton by Johnny Cash

Chorus:
I never picked cotton
Like my mother did
And my brother did
And my sister did
And my daddy died young
Working in a coal mine

When I was just a baby
Too little for the cotton sack
I played in the dirt
While the others worked
Until they couldn’t straighten up their backs
And I made myself a promise
When I was old enough to run
That I’d never stay a single day
In that Oklahoma sun

Chorus

Folks said that I grew up early
And the farm couldn’t hold me then
So I stole 10 bucks and a pick up truck
And I never went back again
And it was fast cars and whiskey
Long legged girls and fun
I had everything that money could bring
And I took it all with a gun

Chorus

It was Saturday night in Memphis
When a red neck grabbed my shirt
And he said go back to your cotton sack
I left him lyin’ in the dirt
And they’ll take me in the morning
To the gallows just outside
And in the time I’ve got
There ain’t a hell of a lot
I can look back on with pride

Chorus
Chorus

Road Trip III

Destination Two:

Keep in mind that each destination is a whim. Discovered while on the road, my agenda is nil but a point of interest is decided upon based on only the state. My only real agenda on this trip is the completion of travel through all 50 states. What I do in each state has no preconceived notions. So destination two is the rodeo in Hot Springs Arkansas. My accommodations consist of a campground in Hot Springs National Park for $5/night. VIP/press credentials allowed me great access to the national bull riding rodeo for two nights straight. One cowboy was injured with a wrap of bandage around his head and under the chin. Another cowboy came out of the ring dripping from the hairline and onto the face. Rivulets of blood looked cool on the cowboy.

The town of Hot Springs was a surprise. It centered itself around the bathhouses which pre-empted the hot springs for themselves. I assumed that a Hot Springs National Park would possess natural springs set out in the natural world. It gives new meaning to the park ranger who provides a guided tour of hot tubs and steam baths. Much can be said about the bathhouses but I won’t. I did learn that 29 National Parks have artists-in-residence programs and this is something I intend to explore. So hot mineral baths, hikes in the park, steak, rodeo, live music, contemporary art and a Harley Rally all merged into one experience.

Road Trip II

Pawhuska is a no-where town that was once somewhere too. And its shell still gives hints of its past whereness. A cattle town that once thrived – its main downtown district focuses on the Triangle Building: a brick façade, empty but the centerpiece of a possible artistic revival. J.D (a man I met on the street) gave me the lowdown on its past – and spoke with pride as if he was talking about his own history. One building seemed to spark with life – an antique store and a coffee house was housed within. Tin ceilings in relief revealed the possibilities that existed then and there. The rest of the town was a shell – brick two level main street stores just waiting for the spirit of man to ignite. I photographed this shell giving it an aura of the past with a trick lens I packed along. I’m trying not to overuse it but it does provide an element of creative reverie to the image at capture.

Road Trip I

Re:
Road Trip 2010
and the Completion of all 50 States, approximately 4400 miles from September 7th to 16th

Destination One:

Tall Grass Prairie in Oklahoma located just outside the town of Pawhuska. This prairie contains miles and miles of dirt/gravel roads which lead to somewhere and no-where. Bison range the grass but were visible in the far distance. The station was closed but a one mile hike put me close to the grass and got me acclimated and starting to get settled after 2 ½ days of driving and feeling that I had to get somewhere fast (It’s interesting that my somewhere was a no-where!). The grasslands preserve was a throwback to the expansive grasslands of the pre-settlement days that stretched well into Texas. They are located in the northeast corner of Oklahoma in Osage County, within a Native American Reservation. Apropos since grasslands and bison are essential to a once Indian culture.

N.B. The Osage purchased this reservation after they were schemed out of their original land by western moving European Americans and the Federal Government. They were allowed to acquire this land only because it was useless at the time. Of course later on oil was found…