It's Columbus (Or Settlement History) Day, Whatever...

For more than a decade of Columbus Days I've referenced this interesting post by James C. Bennett on some surprising complexities regarding the holiday. Here's the summary paragraph from my post:

Caboto? Cabot? Yes, it's the same explorer. John Cabot, often identified as the "English" navigator, was really an Italian. In 1497 he financed his "discovery" of North America - not just a few islands as Columbus did in 1492 - with English money. Leave it to those crafty English to Anglicize him and create mass confusion among school children and armchair authorities for centuries to come.

 

Cabot in his Venetian Robes, Guistino Menescardi, 1762

Putting aside Bennett's Calvinist Puritan "depravity of man" talk, readers know full-well my opinion on the superlatives and "firsts" regarding the exploration, occupation, and settlement of the planet. Whether it's Leif Erikson, Christopher Columbus, John Cabot, Kennewick Man or whomever, we should know by now it's the politics that matters. Given that, Power Line's John Hinderaker offers his perspective on this day. Glenn Reynold follows up with his opinion on Instapundit, including a recommednation that readers explore Admiral of the Ocean Sea: A Life of Christopher Columbus, a superb biography by the renowned writer and maritime historian, Samuel Eliot Morison.

And so we are left with a national holiday celebrating an explorer who "discovered America" but never set foot on the North American continent. Enough said. My you have an enjoyable Columbus Day holiday and thank Bjarni Herjolfsson for staying out to sea.

To Fly Faster Than The Speed Of Sound

The legendary test pilot, Chuck Yeager, passed away in December 2020 at 97. About twenty years earlier I had the good fortune to attend a conversation he had with his best friend and fellow flying ace, Bud Anderson, recalling their exploits over Europe in World War II. It was one of the most memorable events in the aviation history aspect of my career. Listening to them left me wondering how either had survived their antics let alone the combat. And although I had read hundreds of pages about them it took seeing them in person as old warriors to understand just how extraordinary they were.

On October 14, 1947, Yeager was in California and about to achieve a landmark in aviation when he flew his Bell X-1 into history on the shoulders of scores of aerospace pioneers who helped him pass through an imaginary doorway and reach the supersonic speedway in the sky.

From his autobiography, here is his description of that event:

. . . Bob Cardenas, the B-29 driver, asked if I was ready.

"Hell, yes," I said. "Let's get it over with.

"He dropped the X-1 at 20,000 feet, but his dive speed was once again too slow and the X-1 started to stall. I fought it with the control wheel for about five hundred feet, and finally got her nose down. The moment we picked up speed I fired all four rocket chambers in rapid sequence. We climbed at .88 Mach and began to buffet, so I flipped the stabilizer switch and changed the setting two degrees. We smoothed right out, and at 36,000 feet, I turned off two rocket chambers. At 40,000 feet, we were still climbing at a speed of .92 Mach. Leveling off at 42,000 feet, I had thirty percent of my fuel, so I turned on rocket chamber three and immediately reached .96 Mach. I noticed the faster I got, the smoother the ride. Suddenly the Mach needle began to fluctuate. It went up to .965 Mach - then tipped right off the scale. I thought I was seeing things! We were flying supersonic! And it was as smooth as a baby's bottom: Grandma could be sitting up there sipping lemonade. I kept the speed off the scale for about twenty seconds, and raised the nose to slow down. I was thunderstruck. After all the anxiety, breaking the sound barrier turned out to be a perfectly paved speedway.

I radioed Jack in the B-29,

"Hey, Ridley, that Machmeter is acting screwy. It just went off the scale on me."
"Fluctuated off?"
"Yeah, at point nine-six-five."

"Son, you is imagining things."

"Must be. I'm still wearing my ears and nothing else fell off, neither."

. . .

And so I was a hero this day. As usual, the fire trucks raced out to where the ship had rolled to a stop on the lakebed. As usual, I hitched a ride back to the hangar with the fire chief. That warm desert sun really felt wonderful. My ribs ached.

 

His ribs ached but that ache had nothing to do with his record flight. He cracked two of them in a horseback riding accident a day and a half earlier but wasn't about to let the issue keep him from an important mission. This was but one example of many obstacles Yeager overcame on his way to legendary status in American aviation history.

Interested readers can learn more about the man and the early years of the nation's military aviation and aerospace history in Yeager: An Autobiography, an outstanding read originally published in 1985. A valuable companion book providing context and additional history on the nation's early manned space program is Tom Wolfe's 1979 classic, The Right Stuff.




Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
Yeager with Bell X-1, U.S. Air Force, www.af.mil
Cover photo, Yeager: An Autobiography, General Chuck Yeager and Leo Janus, Bantam, 1985.

Text:
quotation, Yeager: An Autobiography, General Chuck Yeager and Leo Janus, Bantam, 1985.
www.wikipedia.com
www.chuckyeager.com

Art Tatum: Magician At The Keyboard

He had perfect pitch and came from a musical family. He was virtually blind but that did not stop him from reaching the pinnacle of piano jazz. Tatum's piano technique was all his own. As a child he learned compositions by ear listening to recordings, piano rolls, and the radio. He often had no idea that he was copying in two hands a musical performance by four hands. After basing his early performance on the stride piano style of James P. Johnson and Fats Waller Tatum's piano technique soon evolved into a flying lyric in the right hand riding on a modified stride in the left. In time his skills made him a magician at the keyboard. Here is his famous 1933 rendition of Tea For Two:

And a bit more up-tempo, here is the master of improvisation with the tune, Tiger Rag, also recorded in 1933:

When you have enjoyed jazz for fifty years and listen to Art Tatum you'll hear Oscar Peterson, Billy Taylor, Thelonious Monk, Johnny Costa and many others as Tatum dances effortlessly across the keyboard. He was so good, his legacy in music may be timeless. In fact, the great stride pianist, Fats Waller, once said upon seeing Tatum enter the club where Waller was performing, "I only play the piano, but tonight God is in the house."

At the Vogue Room, New York, 1948

Tatum was born on this day in Toledo, Ohio, in 1909 and died in Los Angeles in 1956. 



Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
William P. Gottlieb Collection, Library of Congress, Washington, DC

Text:
Art Tatum entry, wikipedia,com (for quote source see note 2)

A Birthday Celebrated And Shared

For several years now my birthday always brings to mind the remarkable coincidence that I share the day with two of my favorite personalities from the world of the arts. Studying them in depth came later in my life and it's only been in the last thirty years or so that I realized September 29 was a big day we shared. It's a coincidence from somewhere in the stars beyond time. I don't want to attempt an explanation. And there's no delusion here, my friends, I will never approach their genius. Not sure I'd want to. I'll simply leave it at that and let this post unfold.

So who are these two artists? They are Walter Inglis Anderson and George Gershwin. I discovered Anderson on my own in the 1970s during the dedication of a National Park Service visitor center in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. The award-winning center featured architectural elements incorporating his motifs as well as interior displays of his nature paintings, island journals, and other books. The building itself, a gift to the National Park Service, was a work of art emerging from the salt marsh at the edge of Davis Bayou. Unfortunately, the center was destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. In regard to George Gershwin, I had an ear for him very early in life as my mom and dad enjoyed listening to his work on radio, records, and television.

Walter Inglis "Bob" Anderson, Self-Portrait, ca. 1941

George Gershwin a few months before his death in 1937

Anderson and Gershwin were filled with creative genius and tragic loss. Anderson died (1965) in his early sixties recognized as a local artist and obscure introvert wracked by schizophrenia. National appreciation of his contribution to American art would come slowly and long after his death. Even today he's not well known among general populations beyond the South. Gershwin would die of an aggressive brain tumor at the age of 37 at the height of his career and known throughout the world.

Walter Inglis Anderson, was born on September 29, 1903 in New Orleans. After training at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in the mid-1920s, he spent most of his career associated with Shearwater Pottery, a family enterprise founded in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. Though deeply troubled with mental illness for much of his life, he produced thousands of vivid works of art - often called "abstract realism" - seeking to celebrate the unity of human existence with nature. I often describe his work as decorated illustrations that play freely with figure and ground and the positives and negatives of visual perception. His realizations of nature explode in the mind's eye. Observing Anderson is a meditative experience. Visit the Walter Inglis Anderson Museum of Art site to learn more about the life and work of this regional artist whose work has only recently has taken on national significance.

Frogs, Bugs, Flowers                          Walter Anderson, ca 1945

George Gershwin was born in New York in 1898. He went on to become perhaps the most beloved American composer of the last century through his many compositions for the musical stage, the concert hall, and what has become known as the Great American Songbook. Gershwin's appeal comes in part from his colorful and lively incorporation of jazz motifs in all of his music. He died in 1937 with what could only be called a spectacular career ahead of him. I often imagine what he could have brought to American music had he lived another forty years. Here is a spectacular interpretation of the final movement of Gershwin's Concerto in F. For good reason he originally called the it New York Concerto. To me there's no more energetic sound image of the Big Apple than this piece.

Today I begin my 78th year still deeply immersed in the amazing output of Anderson and Gershwin. Although I'm perfectly happy not to share their fame, I'm honored to share their interpretations of the American experience with anyone. And what fine interpretations they are.

Little Room, South Wall Walter Inglis Anderson, 1950-65

Sources

Photos and Illustrations:

Walter "Bob" Anderson, Self-portrait, 1941. Walter Anderson Museum of Art, Ocean Springs, Mississippi.
Frogs, Bugs, and Flowers, Walter Anderson, ca 1945. Repository: Roger H. Ogden Collection. Copyright held by Roger H. Ogden.
George Gershwin 1937. Carl Van Vechten Collection, Library of Congress

William Faulkner: The View From Yoknapatawpha County

Today we remember William Faulkner, the celebrated world-famous writer and favorite son of Oxford, Mississippi, who was born on September 25, 1897. He explored the character of the South in a string of novels and stories predominately over a twenty year period beginning around 1920. This work earned him the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1949. Later work was recognized with two Pulitzer Prizes.

Faulkner has never been an easy read for me. His complexity and detail, along with the run on sentences and page long paragraphs, make the experience as challenging as the analysis of his characters. Having lived almost five decades in the Deep South, I can appreciate in my own small way the 20th century Southern personality Faulkner captured from his Mississippi home in fictional Yoknapatawpha County. Southern folks then were quite different from their fellow Americans. Today that regional character continues to change with a changing South. It is an interesting overlay.

In 1956, Faulkner sat for a Paris Review interview by author, oral historian, and editor, Jean Stein. It became a seminal piece on the art of fiction as well as an insightful exchange on the writer himself. Readers can access an article based on the interview at this link.

And here is the the author reading from The Sound and the Fury, a novel ignored by readers when first published in 1929, but earning him fame after the publication of Sanctuary in 1931.

It would be a serious error to end a post about Faulkner without mentioning Rowan Oak, his home in Oxford. For over thirty years the house and acres surrounding it provided Faulkner with sanctuary and inspiration during his most productive period. Today the home is a mecca for Faulkner enthusiasts. Visitors can tour the house and grounds as well as the nearby historic Oxford Square - don't miss Square Books, Oxford's world-famous bookstore - and the University of Mississippi Museum and campus.

There is no mechanical way to get the writing done, no shortcut. The young writer would be a fool to follow a theory. Teach yourself by your own mistakes; people learn only by error. The good artist believes that nobody is good enough to give him advice. He has supreme vanity. No matter how much he admires the old writer, he wants to beat him.

                                                            William Faulkner





Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
Faulkner photo, Carl Van Vecten Collection, United States Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.
Rowan Oak photo, User: Wescbell, Creative Common Attribution-ShareAlike3.0 Unported

Text:
end quote, from the Paris Review interview, 1956.
Wikipedia.org

John Rutter: Never-Ending Sounds Of Joy And Hope

John Rutter at Clare College, Cambridge, England

John Rutter, the renowned British composer, conductor and arranger, turns 79 today. He is best known and loved for his choral music, the Cambridge Singers choir, and their recording label, Collegium Records. Doing an Internet search for Rutter doesn't bring up much more than the same brief biography. Though far from reclusive, the composer enjoys his privacy, but he does have a fairly active Facebook page. In addition, there is the occasional article here, and here that gives readers some insight into the man behind the music. My take on this relative dearth of information is simply that one should get to know the man through his music. Here is an anthem he wrote for the wedding of Prince William and Catherine Middleton in 2011:

Some in the classical music world, mostly in Great Britain, find Rutter's compositions to be a bit simple, repetitive, and stylistically confused. Others place him at the top among contemporary composers. I have to side with the latter appraisals. The melodies are generally simple, the harmonies beautiful, and the style affords a perfect balance of music and message. Furthermore, choirs of all sizes and skill levels perform his work to appreciative audiences everywhere. If popularity is any indicator, John Rutter's music will be enjoyed for a long, long time.

Here is the finale of Rutter's 2016 composition, Visions, a four-part work based on the theme of Jerusalem:

Here is perhaps Rutter's most recognized and popular work, his choral work based on Cecil Frances Alexander's hymn, All Things Bright and Beautiful.

Splendid sounds indeed.







Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
Clare College Alumni

Text:
johnrutter.com

John

Northern Autumn Begins

A new season crept over Atlanta today. It began with the usual soft breeze, dry air, and beautiful sky. The big difference this year is an expected high temperature of 92 and its persistence deep into the  coming week.  It's what I call the beginning of our endless Fall and it's one of the events I most enjoy here in north Georgia. It usually stays with us well past Thanksgiving which means Christmas has a tendency to sneak up on you. I had an even harder time with it in Savannah where fall colors usually "peaked" in January if at all. In any case I'm already thinking about the possibility of Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners on the patio, events that have occurred more often than you'd expect during my 47 years of living in Georgia.

With an unblemished week of beautiful weather behind us we expect it will continue into October. Other than shortening days and cooler nights about the only sign of seasonal change on the patio and around the house is the singular blooms that have replaced summer's clusters of color.

As we enter the harvest cycle I am reminded of the bounty of nature we enjoy regardless of the season. And that reminds me of the calander and in particular the Napoleonic Calendar born in the spirit of the French Revolution and the romantic movement that followed. It's composed of ten day weeks, twelve months of thirty days, and assorted extra days to add up to the essential number, 365/6. Yes, it was a confusing time piece. On the other hand, using seasonal events, plant and animal names, and farming implements to label the days and months made the calendar a work of art. This day may be a Sunday in Atlanta but in 1800 in Paris the day was Raisin.

Here in the next 29 days is a vivid picture of the season:

Safran (Saffron)

Chataignes (Chestnut)

Colchique (Autumn Crocus)

Cheval (Horse)

Balsamine (Yellow Balsam)

Carrotes (Carrots)

Amaranthe (Amaranth)

Panais (Parsnip)

Cuve (Tub)

Pommes de terre (Potatoes)

Immortelle (Strawflower)

Potiron (Giant Pumpkin)

Reseda (Mignonette)

Ane (Donkey)

Belle de nuit (Marvel of Peru)

Citroville (Summer Pumpkin)

Sarrazin (Buckwheat)

Touresol (Sunflower)

Pressoir (Wine-Press)

Chanvre (Hemp)

Peches (Peaches)

Navets (Turnip)

Amarillis (Amaryllis)

Boeuf (Cattle)

Aubegine (Eggplant)

Piment (Chile Pepper)

Tomate (Tomato)

Orge (Barley)

Tonneau (Barrel)

I think Vendemiaire provides us a comforting association with a different time and place, a pre-industrial existence where we can easily recognize ourselves as part of nature and not separate from it. That's as it should be. This is the season to be close to the earth and its harvest that sustains us through the cold and dark months to come. Welcome to Fall and the grape harvest. Let us enjoy it whether it be early or late.








Sources:

Photos and Illustrations:
Wikipedia entry: Vendemiaire, author unknown, National Library and Bureau of Measures,

Text:
Fondation Napoleon, www.napoleon.org