Whenever non-homeschoolers find out that I’ve homeschooled the Nikipedia for the past 8 years, I immediately get one or both of the following questions: What about socialization? and, How did you know what to teach? The first question is usually asked by someone who has just spent a lot of time complaining about peer influence on their kids, disinterested, crazy or cruel teachers, etc., so I’m usually able to answer, “Yes, I’m so glad she’s avoided most of that.” The second question always leaves me square mouthed.
Why? Because it’s invariably asked by a college educated adult, often one with many years of post- graduate study. Holy baccalaureate, Batman, if you’ve spent more than 16 years in the halls of academe, you should have some idea what you found valuable to study, some grip on the basics of at least an elementary school education, and some ability to organize information into a logical order. Add to that the amount of sample syllabi online, the plethora of educational materials catalogs that are often as thick as phonebooks (particularly if they’re peddling to homeschoolers), and I don’t think it should take a parent all that long to come up with some direction. How on earth do the same parents judge whether they are happy with the education their children are receiving in regular schools?
My guess is that most parents don’t think so much about what content their child is learning so much as whether said offspring is “doing well” according to the school’s standards. Maybe if the child starts zooming through math or gets in trouble for inserting a more interesting, higher level book inside the duller, dumber book the class is reading, the parent will get an inkling that the child needs more challenging material. By the time college application season rolls around, some parents will start to seek lists of 100 books Every High Schooler should have read.
There’s a minor industry, however, in books about books, telling us what we should have read in high school, college, and most of our adult life, instead of being the slackers that many of us were. Because the Nikipedia was bored with kid’s books by about sixth grade (except for science fiction and an 8 foot shelf of Star Trek novels she bought at a used book sale), I’ve acquired quite a collection of these books on great books. In case anyone else has many spare hours that they can’t think what to do with, or actually might consider homeschooling, I offer this review. Beats Cliff’s notes.
The granddaddy of the genre has to be Clifton Fadiman’s The New Lifetime Reading Plan. Fadiman has been dead for 10 years, and the book was updated by John Major, especially to include non-Western literature. A lot of people have objected to the revisions, but I am so grateful to finally have solid suggestions for something not written in Europe. I find the summaries to be a bit short, however, and not all that opinionated or thought provoking. Still, it’s a good catalog to order from, so to speak. Definitely a book shelf basic.
Susan Wise Bauer has a collection aimed at adults who would like to self-educate, The Well-Educated Mind. Bauer wrote a homeschooling war horse that we have followed more or less closely for curriculum suggestions over our homeschooling career, The Well-Trained Mind. WTM is definitely aimed at parents trying to think through what to teach, but I suspect Well-Educated is for all those parents who took a look at WTM, gulped, and decided their own education was woeful. Bauer treats great lit by genre (WTM works through it chronologically by subject, which I prefer, actually) and is heavy on the ancients, although she does include some modern literature as well. I’ve enjoyed owning both of these, but I’d browse them at the library to see if you need all the background instruction in how to read each genre. Otherwise, you may just want to note her suggestions.
Book Smart is billed as “Your essential reading list for becoming a literary genius in 365 days”. I like this one, but I suspect it’s because I’ve read a lot of the books she suggests and so I feel smart and smug. Jane Mallison has organized her lists by month, and given each month a theme. She has some good advice on how to work your way through the list and which ones to choose (way more than I could possibly get through in one 365 day period and I read pretty quickly). All of the selections are fiction, and most are Western. However, the non-Western works are terrific, and she includes two of my favorite lesser known authors, Sigrid Undset and Naguib Mahfouz (both Nobel prize winners). Nice book for ideas, but not, and not intended to be, a comprehensive compendium.
A great one for browsing in the little room is Steven Gilbar’s Good Books, which really is a compendium of books that you should have read, have read, never heard of but want to read now, etc. Good Books has plenty of info for non-fiction selections, and is organized by topics (e.g., the World, Society, Work, Nature, etc.). I stuck so many post-its in this one that it looks like a porcupine, and you never want to have this in the same room as you have access to Amazon. Each description is only a few sentences, but it was enough to do me in.
I’m not a huge fan of Michael Clay Thompson’s homeschooling books, but I really enjoyed Thinkers. This consists of essays on why you should want to read the 20 books discussed: literature, history, and science, for the most part, with satisfying discussions of each book. You’ll feel compelled to read them all, and wish for a sabbatical to do so. BTW, I'm not including a link for this one, as Amazon only has a listing for it at $100. Geez, it's a small paperback. Try to get it from the library.
David Denby makes me crazy with Great Books. It recounts his effort to go back to Columbia, attend their core curriculum classes, and re-read all the books he had first read when he attended college there 30 years earlier. As I’ve said before, education is so wasted on the young, but this guy made a book of taking that literally. I got through about 96 pages until I realized I have to read or re-read along with him, and boy that’s a big project. If you want to embark on a similar project, or just look up what he has to say on the books he covers, I can’t imagine a more entertaining companion. Definitely a personal vision.
Invitation to the Classics is beloved of homeschoolers, although more so with those of the conservative Christian stripe. I’ve found it to have very useful summaries and backgrounds on the authors and their time periods, but I think the authors have sometimes selected lesser works by great authors. It includes college-type discussion/essay questions, but they nearly all ask you to think of these works as a Christian, or what would Christians do. I suppose how you define Christian will have something to do with your answers. I’m still wondering what a “Christian world view” is, and I don’t think Jesus joined the Republican party, but what do I know? Not a bad reference work to inflict on your high school age child, with some lively discussions possible.
If you can dig it up used, Gail Thain Parker’s book College on Your Own is a great edition to refer to. Parker kicked up quite a bit of controversy while she was (briefly) the 30-something president of Bennington, but this is a very serious look at the basics (and then some!) of various fields of college study. It’s dated (1978) and contains a lot of really dull books, but it’s great for a glimpse at what you might read if you had majored in the subject (or have a child who’s thinking about the major). That said, I majored in Sociology at just about this time, got a stellar Graduate Record score, and read maybe 25% of the books suggested. But I do feel guilty. You can, too.
Beowulf on the Beach (Jack Murninghan) is one I just picked up last week. It’s highly opinionated and personal. So far I’m not totally in sync with what he likes and dislikes, but he is funny. It’s pretty clear that he’s a lot younger than most of the people who do these greatest hits books, and it’s nice to see that sort of take on some of these hoary chestnuts. No non-Western stuff (he says it’s beyond him to compile). I really appreciate that he’s willing to wade through some looong works that I’ve always meant to get to (Canterbury Tales, Decameron, etc.) and picked out the “good parts”. I think the Nikipedia will also appreciate some abridgement in her assignments.
A sub-genre of books-about-books is writers-about-books. In this category, I’ve enjoyed the following for browsing (haven’t read them thoroughly).
The Top Ten, edited by J. Peder Zane, allows you to look up what an awful lot of contemporary writers like. There was apparently great agreement on some books, but many writers mention some very offbeat but interesting selections, and quite a few contribute memoirs and appreciations. Nice book for a Sunday afternoon.
Francine Prose (no slouch herself at the book production biz and is that a perfect name?) tells you how in Reading Like A Writer. While this is a very different format than the other books I’ve mentioned (the chapters focus on how to improve your writing, with examples from great books), she does provide a neat list of “books to be read immediately” at the end. You’ll have to read the rest of the book to find out why. This would be a great companion to a reading program (or high school class) introducing reading from a more skills oriented perspective; call it creative writing through literature.
Finally, A Passion for Books is one I’ve enjoyed for its often thought provoking essays by prominent literati about books, experiences, and just general book amour. It’s another one for the little room or in bed for nights when you really should already be asleep, as most of the essays are just a few pages long.
Okay, if you’ve read this far, I get to gripe a little. What about modern works, and I don’t mean Hemingway and Faulkner? Can’t someone stick their neck out a little and pick something less than 50 years old? Gosh, maybe I’ll write one myself. And another thing, what about creative non-fiction? Tracy Kidder, John McPhee, Peter Matthiessen, M.F.K. Fisher…?
But, as they say, that’s a story for another time.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
University of Chicago tour
This week we bagged school for a day and trekked down to the University of Chicago for an unofficial college tour. Sure, it’s early for the Nikipedia, but hey, with three years to go before grinding out the college essay, there’s plenty of lead time to get the anxiety level to the appropriate fever pitch. Although we live in the area, the connection was actually made through a friend in West Virginia (long way ‘round!) We met a third year student, who I’ll call V.S. (for very superior, like cognac) since I don’t have her permission to identify her.
It appears that things haven’t changed much since the days I was there, in grad school. According to V.S., there are actually clubs to join and some kids who (try to) play sports, but pretty much it still appeals to the same kind of nerd that loved it 30+ years ago. I mean, broomball is one of the main sports on campus. As Robert Hutchins once proclaimed, “Whenever I feel the need to exercise, I lie down until it goes away.” You don’t get into the U of C (or enjoy it there) if you were homecoming queen, or because mommy went there (although I’m hoping it helps), or because you had an armload of volunteer experiences. You find yourself there because you’re SMART, and because you want to be with 4,000 other undergrads who won the eccentricity award at their own high schools. I mean, the school has the unofficial motto, “where fun goes to die”.
As luck would have it, we ended up there the same day as freshman orientation, with tons of geeky looking parents wandering around with apples who didn’t fall far from the tree. Nikipedia was rubber-necking like crazy. Not one to be attracted to football players, these were her kind of (guy) people. I was particularly bemused by the name tags on the parents—“I’m the proud parent of a University of Chicago student”. I’m glad that wasn’t me because I would have felt obligated to take a sharpie and alter that “proud” to “exhausted” or “soon to be broke” or maybe “free-at-last”.
I pretty much knew my way around campus, and Nikipedia was anxious to dump me anyway, so I hiked over to the Seminary Coop bookstore, where I bought the traditional shopping bag full of books you’ll never hear of at Barnes and Noble, and which I won’t get to for another 4 or 5 years. Meanwhile, Nikipedia and V.S. must have travelled in a hovercraft, because when I next located them about an hour later, they were in International House, having already covered Rockefeller Chapel, the Music building, Fullerton Hall, and another dorm or two. We met for lunch at the Medici, where Nikipedia had written her initials on a wall when she was 3 (don’t worry, it’s traditional.) I’m going to try to work that into her future admissions application.
Being the old bag that I somehow have become, I often lament the state of young people today. Except for Nikipedia, who keeps talking even in her sleep, I often find young people to be, well, rather dull and inarticulate, and sport that deer-caught-in-the–headlights look. Not at the U of C, and certainly not V.S. She was poised, articulate, and able to talk clearly about her impressions, the development of her ideas and change of focus over time, and how her education was exposing her to far more ideas and possibilities. Really, she should be the poster child for the value of a liberal education. When we made contact, she told me she was an anthropology major with an interest in Hindu epics. Now, that kind of passion makes parents shudder. I mean, we’re forking over $200K and facing the fact that the kid with that major will be living in the basement until they’re 45, right? Not so fast. Turns out V.S. worked for an international non-profit this last summer, and got interested in non-profit management and international development. She’s now headed for a semester in India, with the background to know what she’s seeing, and an interest in a field where that background will be unique and valuable. My guess is that while all those people who majored in something practical like physics or accounting are grinding it out in their cubicles, V.S. will be traveling the world, doing something that actually is meaningful and productive.
Hutchins once railed against the impetus to make college a trade school, and the U of C is still a bastion of a core Great Books-style curriculum, although it has been modified over the years. People complain it’s been dumbed down, but compared to what? Not much of this double-major stuff, where you major in one thing you love, with the recognition that you’ll never work in it, and another thing so you can sell your soul in the marketplace. Those kind of students always tell me how grateful they are not to be stuck with “requirements”. But if you belong at the U of C, those arts and humanities classes are why you picked U of C, a school where English is still one of the most popular majors. Or put another way, as one Northwestern student tour guide once told me, Northwestern trains CEOs, Chicago trains professors. She did not seem embarrassed by this.
V.S. emphasized to both of us that classes were really HARD. Given the fact that plenty of these kids have 99th percentile SATs and a string of AP classes (for which they get little credit towards a U of C degree), this puts the school in perspective. On the other hand, V.S. glowed about her professors, and said she had never seen so much depth and detail in her readings before being re-sculpted by the core curriculum. One of my standards of a school is to listen to the conversations around me in the student union, the campus hangouts, etc. At Northwestern, I hear a lot of analysis of parties and the weekend’s date (or shortcomings). At the U of C, you hear snippets of “I have never experienced such transcendence as when I read…” or “I finally got the breakthrough I needed to explicate…” I kid you not. Yes, they’re 19 years old.
At Northwestern, they know designer brands, and the coeds are beautiful. At the U of C they’re still wearing the same stuff they beat up in high school, no one bothers about hair “product” as far as I can see, and significant butt-in-seat time is spent at the library. That’s not to say there’s not plenty of drinking, both when I was there and now. It’s the only time I’ve ever attended parties where you could be having a very significant discussion with someone who suddenly keeled over like a felled tree. It’s one of the few places where the campus drinking hole (Jimmy’s) has an encyclopedia over the bar to settle arguments. V.S. didn’t seem all that into the booze scene (her parents can probably sigh with relief) but didn’t seem to lack for fun. After all, she pointed out, it’s a little college surrounded by a big graduate operation, and you get to know everyone, while being able to take advantage of great facilities and connections. While the school is an ivy covered enclave, downtown Chicago, with its great museums, arts scene, opera and symphony is a public transit ride away.
One thing has changed—safety. When I was there, muggings were not uncommon and you never went anywhere at night without a group. The University really stepped up security in later years, and Hyde Park became much safer. However, about a year ago there was a terrible murder, and the consensus of the community was that security had become complacent. That consciousness has really been raised, and V.S. says she feels comfortable and safe, although it ain’t Kansas, and one needs to exercise the caution that would be reasonable in any major city in the U.S.
All in all, it’s still a great place, but certainly not for everyone. It might be the back up school for a lot of Easterners who really hope they get into Harvard, but for those for whom the University of Chicago is first choice, there just really isn’t any other place like it. Education is so wasted on the young. I want to go back.
It appears that things haven’t changed much since the days I was there, in grad school. According to V.S., there are actually clubs to join and some kids who (try to) play sports, but pretty much it still appeals to the same kind of nerd that loved it 30+ years ago. I mean, broomball is one of the main sports on campus. As Robert Hutchins once proclaimed, “Whenever I feel the need to exercise, I lie down until it goes away.” You don’t get into the U of C (or enjoy it there) if you were homecoming queen, or because mommy went there (although I’m hoping it helps), or because you had an armload of volunteer experiences. You find yourself there because you’re SMART, and because you want to be with 4,000 other undergrads who won the eccentricity award at their own high schools. I mean, the school has the unofficial motto, “where fun goes to die”.
As luck would have it, we ended up there the same day as freshman orientation, with tons of geeky looking parents wandering around with apples who didn’t fall far from the tree. Nikipedia was rubber-necking like crazy. Not one to be attracted to football players, these were her kind of (guy) people. I was particularly bemused by the name tags on the parents—“I’m the proud parent of a University of Chicago student”. I’m glad that wasn’t me because I would have felt obligated to take a sharpie and alter that “proud” to “exhausted” or “soon to be broke” or maybe “free-at-last”.
I pretty much knew my way around campus, and Nikipedia was anxious to dump me anyway, so I hiked over to the Seminary Coop bookstore, where I bought the traditional shopping bag full of books you’ll never hear of at Barnes and Noble, and which I won’t get to for another 4 or 5 years. Meanwhile, Nikipedia and V.S. must have travelled in a hovercraft, because when I next located them about an hour later, they were in International House, having already covered Rockefeller Chapel, the Music building, Fullerton Hall, and another dorm or two. We met for lunch at the Medici, where Nikipedia had written her initials on a wall when she was 3 (don’t worry, it’s traditional.) I’m going to try to work that into her future admissions application.
Being the old bag that I somehow have become, I often lament the state of young people today. Except for Nikipedia, who keeps talking even in her sleep, I often find young people to be, well, rather dull and inarticulate, and sport that deer-caught-in-the–headlights look. Not at the U of C, and certainly not V.S. She was poised, articulate, and able to talk clearly about her impressions, the development of her ideas and change of focus over time, and how her education was exposing her to far more ideas and possibilities. Really, she should be the poster child for the value of a liberal education. When we made contact, she told me she was an anthropology major with an interest in Hindu epics. Now, that kind of passion makes parents shudder. I mean, we’re forking over $200K and facing the fact that the kid with that major will be living in the basement until they’re 45, right? Not so fast. Turns out V.S. worked for an international non-profit this last summer, and got interested in non-profit management and international development. She’s now headed for a semester in India, with the background to know what she’s seeing, and an interest in a field where that background will be unique and valuable. My guess is that while all those people who majored in something practical like physics or accounting are grinding it out in their cubicles, V.S. will be traveling the world, doing something that actually is meaningful and productive.
Hutchins once railed against the impetus to make college a trade school, and the U of C is still a bastion of a core Great Books-style curriculum, although it has been modified over the years. People complain it’s been dumbed down, but compared to what? Not much of this double-major stuff, where you major in one thing you love, with the recognition that you’ll never work in it, and another thing so you can sell your soul in the marketplace. Those kind of students always tell me how grateful they are not to be stuck with “requirements”. But if you belong at the U of C, those arts and humanities classes are why you picked U of C, a school where English is still one of the most popular majors. Or put another way, as one Northwestern student tour guide once told me, Northwestern trains CEOs, Chicago trains professors. She did not seem embarrassed by this.
V.S. emphasized to both of us that classes were really HARD. Given the fact that plenty of these kids have 99th percentile SATs and a string of AP classes (for which they get little credit towards a U of C degree), this puts the school in perspective. On the other hand, V.S. glowed about her professors, and said she had never seen so much depth and detail in her readings before being re-sculpted by the core curriculum. One of my standards of a school is to listen to the conversations around me in the student union, the campus hangouts, etc. At Northwestern, I hear a lot of analysis of parties and the weekend’s date (or shortcomings). At the U of C, you hear snippets of “I have never experienced such transcendence as when I read…” or “I finally got the breakthrough I needed to explicate…” I kid you not. Yes, they’re 19 years old.
At Northwestern, they know designer brands, and the coeds are beautiful. At the U of C they’re still wearing the same stuff they beat up in high school, no one bothers about hair “product” as far as I can see, and significant butt-in-seat time is spent at the library. That’s not to say there’s not plenty of drinking, both when I was there and now. It’s the only time I’ve ever attended parties where you could be having a very significant discussion with someone who suddenly keeled over like a felled tree. It’s one of the few places where the campus drinking hole (Jimmy’s) has an encyclopedia over the bar to settle arguments. V.S. didn’t seem all that into the booze scene (her parents can probably sigh with relief) but didn’t seem to lack for fun. After all, she pointed out, it’s a little college surrounded by a big graduate operation, and you get to know everyone, while being able to take advantage of great facilities and connections. While the school is an ivy covered enclave, downtown Chicago, with its great museums, arts scene, opera and symphony is a public transit ride away.
One thing has changed—safety. When I was there, muggings were not uncommon and you never went anywhere at night without a group. The University really stepped up security in later years, and Hyde Park became much safer. However, about a year ago there was a terrible murder, and the consensus of the community was that security had become complacent. That consciousness has really been raised, and V.S. says she feels comfortable and safe, although it ain’t Kansas, and one needs to exercise the caution that would be reasonable in any major city in the U.S.
All in all, it’s still a great place, but certainly not for everyone. It might be the back up school for a lot of Easterners who really hope they get into Harvard, but for those for whom the University of Chicago is first choice, there just really isn’t any other place like it. Education is so wasted on the young. I want to go back.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Jewelry: art, craft, whatever
I must be stuck on jewelry making this week, because I keep coming across ideas that reel me in. I’m so taken with the artistry that is put into craft these days that I often wonder why we even bother to make a distinction between craft and art. Well, sure, I can tell the difference between a crocheted toilet paper cover and the Mona Lisa, but I also see a lot of jewelry and artwear that easily belongs in a frame.
I like gems and precious metals as well as the next rapacious female, but I tend to like big and bold. (As an aside, can someone tell me why huge ladies seem to love teensy gold chains just long enough to let the charm dangle on top of their amazing shelves? Like mom used to say, a peanut on a watermelon.) Anyway, I’m not little and I like jewelry that can be seen across the room. It’s supposed to attract attention, right? So far no one has offered to give me rocks the size of Liz Taylor’s, and I wouldn’t have any place to wear them anyway, so I go for “unusual”.
I’ve just mentioned steampunk, and am really looking forward to Jean Campbell’s upcoming book on it, but in the meantime, I’ve been really intrigued by books showing how to make jewelry from hardware. There are plenty of instructions out there on using hardware, paper, or various recycled materials. Nicole Sherman's got a great one on mixing industrial with beads and precious metals, and there's another one (link below) that is more "purist" in just using hardware--and it comes with a spiral binding so you can actually follow the instructions rather than wrestling the book. After spending a lot of time being awestruck by these folks’ creativity (still am), it finally hit me that the key to selecting and using such materials is shape, not actual object. If you take traditional bead shapes (cylinders, spheres, cubes, tubes) and check out what objects from (anywhere) might be the approximate similar shape, you’re off to the races. And isn’t abstraction of form what all artists do?
I like gems and precious metals as well as the next rapacious female, but I tend to like big and bold. (As an aside, can someone tell me why huge ladies seem to love teensy gold chains just long enough to let the charm dangle on top of their amazing shelves? Like mom used to say, a peanut on a watermelon.) Anyway, I’m not little and I like jewelry that can be seen across the room. It’s supposed to attract attention, right? So far no one has offered to give me rocks the size of Liz Taylor’s, and I wouldn’t have any place to wear them anyway, so I go for “unusual”.
I’ve just mentioned steampunk, and am really looking forward to Jean Campbell’s upcoming book on it, but in the meantime, I’ve been really intrigued by books showing how to make jewelry from hardware. There are plenty of instructions out there on using hardware, paper, or various recycled materials. Nicole Sherman's got a great one on mixing industrial with beads and precious metals, and there's another one (link below) that is more "purist" in just using hardware--and it comes with a spiral binding so you can actually follow the instructions rather than wrestling the book. After spending a lot of time being awestruck by these folks’ creativity (still am), it finally hit me that the key to selecting and using such materials is shape, not actual object. If you take traditional bead shapes (cylinders, spheres, cubes, tubes) and check out what objects from (anywhere) might be the approximate similar shape, you’re off to the races. And isn’t abstraction of form what all artists do?
Monday, September 14, 2009
Steampunk—what is it?
Unless you have a fifteen year old hanging around your house, you may not have heard of steampunk yet. (I do, aka known as World’s Foremost Authority on Everything. However, she has recently informed me that she prefers the moniker Nikipedia, so WFA will be hereby retired from this blog. But I digress…) I felt that perhaps I had qualified as a true cool artsy, though adult, type when even some of the jewelry artists at the recent American Craft Exhibition had not heard of “steampunk”.
It’s interesting and weird, and you might keep your eye out for examples. Right now the term seems to refer mostly to jewelry and clothing designs. As near as I can fathom it (lots of pointing to items and being told, no that’s not steampunk), it’s a combination of Victorian filigree and lacy looking objects combined with industrial components like wire, gears, and clock parts. Almost as if you were punk styling but lived in the 19th century. There’s some good examples of jewelry on www.etsy.com (where apparently it is one of the most searched terms) and Wikipedia has an entry on it, also, detailing its roots in science fiction and fantasy.
I like the style a lot—it’s off kilter and abstract and not easily mass produced—just my kind of look (or at least I try…)
It’s interesting and weird, and you might keep your eye out for examples. Right now the term seems to refer mostly to jewelry and clothing designs. As near as I can fathom it (lots of pointing to items and being told, no that’s not steampunk), it’s a combination of Victorian filigree and lacy looking objects combined with industrial components like wire, gears, and clock parts. Almost as if you were punk styling but lived in the 19th century. There’s some good examples of jewelry on www.etsy.com (where apparently it is one of the most searched terms) and Wikipedia has an entry on it, also, detailing its roots in science fiction and fantasy.
I like the style a lot—it’s off kilter and abstract and not easily mass produced—just my kind of look (or at least I try…)
Monday, September 7, 2009
American Craft Exposition--the real bling
For the last weekend in August, Evanston becomes the center of the crafts universe, when the American Craft Exposition runs at Northwestern University. If you have the slightest interest in artful objects for every day use—clothing, furniture, jewelry, ceramics, baskets, you get the idea—this is a not to be missed date, up there with tax day (and for that, you can get an extension.) Yeah, this is a late post, but if you weren’t there, it’s too late anyway. Mark your calendars and be there next August.
This year, my impression is that the crowds were a little thinner and there were fewer exhibitors, but it may just have been that I was there on closing day. There were the usual plethora of women d’une certaine âge, and thankfully I’m still a little younger than that âge. However, most of them were in black, and didn’t hesitate to try stuff on (which I do, knowing I’m not going to buy). After watching a few modeling sessions, though, I can confidently say a lot of stuff that doesn’t look so hot in the case looks AMAZING on, so it’s definitely worth trying and watching other people, and if you can’t be beautiful, be rich.
Art clothing has changed a lot over the years, and though you still see a lot of Asian themes and shapes, the formless kimono jackets have been supplanted by much more body conscious cuts, and coats of many colors were less in evidence. On the other hand, sheer layers seem to be in, with many designers showing chiffon and organza overblouses, jackets, and dresses. I’m not sure exactly what you wear under them, but it probably isn’t your basic Hanes t-shirt.
Why would anyone pay $1,000 for a stupid plastic purse with LV's all over it when they could have John Milligan's work for $300-500? I don't think I could use them, though. These purses are so beautiful they belong in a frame. Ditto Kathleen Dustin, whose polymer clay work I have long admired. There aren't many place where I need to carry an artichoke, but the purses she makes would be startling art objects on a coffee table or a curio cabinet.
In jewelry, it seemed to me that gold was a lot less in evidence. Aaron Macsai, whose work I have loved for many years, showed a lot of well done gold. I particularly liked the gold bead strands, with every bead different, and lots of gemstone beads mixed in. I used to like his incorporation of found objects, but I didn’t see so much of that in his current work. I know Aaron’s mother, an amazing quilter—in fact, the whole family is wearingly creative. When dear daughter was young, I called Gerry Macsai for advice on how to raise creative kids. Aaron well maintains the family tradition.
Some other booth had doorknocker cocktail rings for the impulse buyer at about $28,000. Someone was actually trying them on—when I think that some people might spend that kind of dough on impulse, I become even more of a socialist. If you’ve got that kind of money to flip, the government ought to take it away from you since you obviously don’t know how to spend it in any defensible way.
Is there a way to make gold look cheap and tawdry? Yup, after seeing the booths of Hongsock Lee and Pat Flynn. Both these artists use silver in amazingly restrained but stunning designs. Lee has an stunning feel for shape and line. Flynn creates breathtaking work combining precious metals with black iron—stuff that looks like it came from another planet. I wanted to send him whatever I own (not much) and have him melt it all down or reset it.
When the next book advance comes in (power of positive thinking!) some part of it will be sent to Christina Goodman. She paints the most incredible miniatures on jewelry objects, originals reminiscent of Camille Corot or Italian landscapes. I don’t necessarily want to wear the stuff, I just want to look at it, with my reading glasses on. In a frame. Too good for us mortals.
Once I got away from jewelry I couldn’t afford and clothes I could make (better, faster, cheaper), I was stopped dead in my tracks by the most amazing piece of craft I’ve ever seen. I wanted to remortgage my house, I wanted to sell my car, hey, I offered to trade my only-born child if only I could have the cabinet Anthony Beverly (apparently no website: woodenworks@msn.com) displayed at the show. It looked like Prairie style until you peered inside and saw the gilded dome. Like stepping through a Stargate or, no, worshipping at a shrine. It was a not so stunning-for-furniture $8,500. However, I tore myself away when I realized 1) I have no place in my house to put it and 2) nothing I own is worth displaying in such a space (oh, sure, I have $8,500 lying around just waiting for an impulse to strike). But when I finally bag it all and move to Paris with a 20 year old lover, I’m having that cabinet shipped to me. I’m thinking I’ll fill it with an assortment of antique Japanese tea ceremony cups, none of which I own at present.
While at the show I ran into Virgil Robinson, with whom I studied metal casting. Virgil makes some pretty amazing jewelry himself, but was just there, as he said, taking notes. I talked to three other artsy-craftsy people I know over the course of the last week, and in each case I asked, “Buy anything?” No, just taking notes. As was I. And drawing pictures. Now, none of us have ever exactly reproduced what we’ve seen, and the AmCraft is a potent source of inspiration. But my aim next year is to go with SOME money. The amazing artistry offered to us deserves our support. And if you have any interest at all in supporting, making, or educating yourself about what fine, non-production line work is really about, do not miss the Exposition next year. Forget the manufactured bling and go for the real thing.
This year, my impression is that the crowds were a little thinner and there were fewer exhibitors, but it may just have been that I was there on closing day. There were the usual plethora of women d’une certaine âge, and thankfully I’m still a little younger than that âge. However, most of them were in black, and didn’t hesitate to try stuff on (which I do, knowing I’m not going to buy). After watching a few modeling sessions, though, I can confidently say a lot of stuff that doesn’t look so hot in the case looks AMAZING on, so it’s definitely worth trying and watching other people, and if you can’t be beautiful, be rich.
Art clothing has changed a lot over the years, and though you still see a lot of Asian themes and shapes, the formless kimono jackets have been supplanted by much more body conscious cuts, and coats of many colors were less in evidence. On the other hand, sheer layers seem to be in, with many designers showing chiffon and organza overblouses, jackets, and dresses. I’m not sure exactly what you wear under them, but it probably isn’t your basic Hanes t-shirt.
Why would anyone pay $1,000 for a stupid plastic purse with LV's all over it when they could have John Milligan's work for $300-500? I don't think I could use them, though. These purses are so beautiful they belong in a frame. Ditto Kathleen Dustin, whose polymer clay work I have long admired. There aren't many place where I need to carry an artichoke, but the purses she makes would be startling art objects on a coffee table or a curio cabinet.
In jewelry, it seemed to me that gold was a lot less in evidence. Aaron Macsai, whose work I have loved for many years, showed a lot of well done gold. I particularly liked the gold bead strands, with every bead different, and lots of gemstone beads mixed in. I used to like his incorporation of found objects, but I didn’t see so much of that in his current work. I know Aaron’s mother, an amazing quilter—in fact, the whole family is wearingly creative. When dear daughter was young, I called Gerry Macsai for advice on how to raise creative kids. Aaron well maintains the family tradition.
Some other booth had doorknocker cocktail rings for the impulse buyer at about $28,000. Someone was actually trying them on—when I think that some people might spend that kind of dough on impulse, I become even more of a socialist. If you’ve got that kind of money to flip, the government ought to take it away from you since you obviously don’t know how to spend it in any defensible way.
Is there a way to make gold look cheap and tawdry? Yup, after seeing the booths of Hongsock Lee and Pat Flynn. Both these artists use silver in amazingly restrained but stunning designs. Lee has an stunning feel for shape and line. Flynn creates breathtaking work combining precious metals with black iron—stuff that looks like it came from another planet. I wanted to send him whatever I own (not much) and have him melt it all down or reset it.
When the next book advance comes in (power of positive thinking!) some part of it will be sent to Christina Goodman. She paints the most incredible miniatures on jewelry objects, originals reminiscent of Camille Corot or Italian landscapes. I don’t necessarily want to wear the stuff, I just want to look at it, with my reading glasses on. In a frame. Too good for us mortals.
Once I got away from jewelry I couldn’t afford and clothes I could make (better, faster, cheaper), I was stopped dead in my tracks by the most amazing piece of craft I’ve ever seen. I wanted to remortgage my house, I wanted to sell my car, hey, I offered to trade my only-born child if only I could have the cabinet Anthony Beverly (apparently no website: woodenworks@msn.com) displayed at the show. It looked like Prairie style until you peered inside and saw the gilded dome. Like stepping through a Stargate or, no, worshipping at a shrine. It was a not so stunning-for-furniture $8,500. However, I tore myself away when I realized 1) I have no place in my house to put it and 2) nothing I own is worth displaying in such a space (oh, sure, I have $8,500 lying around just waiting for an impulse to strike). But when I finally bag it all and move to Paris with a 20 year old lover, I’m having that cabinet shipped to me. I’m thinking I’ll fill it with an assortment of antique Japanese tea ceremony cups, none of which I own at present.
While at the show I ran into Virgil Robinson, with whom I studied metal casting. Virgil makes some pretty amazing jewelry himself, but was just there, as he said, taking notes. I talked to three other artsy-craftsy people I know over the course of the last week, and in each case I asked, “Buy anything?” No, just taking notes. As was I. And drawing pictures. Now, none of us have ever exactly reproduced what we’ve seen, and the AmCraft is a potent source of inspiration. But my aim next year is to go with SOME money. The amazing artistry offered to us deserves our support. And if you have any interest at all in supporting, making, or educating yourself about what fine, non-production line work is really about, do not miss the Exposition next year. Forget the manufactured bling and go for the real thing.
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