The Summer Solstice

DUKES FANS:

  This is the third full weekend in June, and once again the summer solstice is upon us. The seasonal cycles of nature and time continues to both repeat and to move on, taking us into another season and another series of nature’s effects. Although you would be hard pressed to recognize it from all of the rain we have been having, this solstice is all about light and sun. It is the exact opposite of the Winter Solstice, which celebrates the shortest day of the year in terms of sunlight and the longest night of the year. This official start of summer features the longest day of the year in terms of sunlight, and the shortest night. It is a day about being outside a lot, the obvious blessings of nature, continued renewal, fertility, and the promise of a good harvest. It is about the sun as a symbol of hope, growth, promise, and new beginnings.

    Celestial occurrences have always been big events in most cultures and civilizations throughout human history. As we humans are dependent on what nature presents us with, an awareness of the regular patterns of the world around, above, and beneath us are essential to our existence. Even before the invention of writing we had ways of keeping track of these events, for they were very important. Some peoples would keep a calendar of sorts between these important events: laying out rocks per day, for example, or noting the rise/ reduction in water depth in a river or changes in the lunar cycle up above. Many Greek cities used the summer solstice as the very base of their calendar; the summer solstice always marked the first day of the year. Watching the growth of flowers or crops and learning to link these developments to larger goings-on in the natural world was another way some cultures kept track of what we now call “time.” And some ancients even spent years building elaborate stone creations to track the movements of some of those objects in the sky. Stonehenge is probably the most well-known of such structures, but Minoan and Mayan temples were also built to reflect astronomical happenings. In North America Plains Native Americans built stone “medicine wheels” throughout southern Canada and Wyoming that are believed to serve the same purpose. How and what we build often reflects what we deeply believe, and the time and effort put into constructing these types of structures reflects the importance of the knowledge of the celestial to early humans. It was vital information.

   Ancient humans also met important celestial happenings with rituals: patterned, repeated activities to announce, celebrate, and/or partake in something spiritually symbolic and significant. Bonfires, dancing and music were part of summer solstice celebrations in many Northern European cultures at this time as they celebrated the longer periods of light. Roman celebrations featured the sacrifice of a newborn calf freshly removed from its mother’s womb to symbolize new beginnings. The ancient Chinese featured ritual dances, prayers and songs that celebrated the yin-the feminine in the world and fertility. Many Plains Native Americans celebrated with Sun Dances danced around sacred trees. And as one of the promises of the summer solstice is a good harvest, flower wreathes and crowns also played a part in the rituals of many cultures. Tending the crop in hopes of a good fall harvest is directly linked to the solstice.

   In today’s modern Judaeo-Christian world the summer solstice is not considered a major cause for religious celebration. We think of BBQ’s, music, sporting events and the like, devoid of religious significance, when we think of summer rituals and celebrations. In early Christianity, though, that was not the case. John the Baptist was seen as the saint or Biblical figure most connected to this celestial event. Just as the summer solstice is believed to announce the coming of maximum light, so John announced the coming of Jesus-the light that according to Christianity, rescue us from our darkness. So John was the Summer Solstice, and Jesus  the Winter Solstice-the return of more light. Judaism likewise does not pay much attention to this solstice now, but it once did. Tradition says that Joshua’s Battle at Jericho, where the sun stood still, and the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden were both Summer Solstice events-God intervening in the way of the world. It makes sense that such connections would be there in the early days of both religions: monotheistic religions looking to replace polytheistic and nature based ones, would have to account in some way for the previous religions’ major beliefs. This is not needed so much any more.

  But symbolic meaning often works beneath the surface in cultures. It was no coincidence, I think, that for the longest time June and July had been the most popular months for weddings in the US. Those months have the great days of light (hope, promise, heat) hopefully leading to a good harvest (family, fertility, childbirth and an increased community). That is one way of looking at that cultural tradition. But this may be a little out of date; according to Kopf’s wedding statistics 40% of US weddings have taken place in the fall over the last ten years, and that stat continues to grow. This may well say something about our changing religious beliefs and relationships to cultural symbols in the 21^st century. The old symbols may not mean the same thing they once did.

  Regardless of how our modern beliefs change or remain the same, there is not doubt that celestial happenings have a major influence on us as humans. Whether it be a ritual of flower wreaths, dancing and prayer, or simply a solstice party, or a special concert, or just simply working in the garden, we need to be in touch with what goes on around, above and beneath us. That is one of the ways we as a species make sense of this world and make our way in it. I hope you get to celebrate in some way the gloriousness of the sun, the process of the seasons, and the promise and hope of summer. Those are, to me, three of nature’s greatest gifts. Happy Solstice.

The Early Days pt 2

DUKES FANS The Early Days pt 2

  This is the second installment of a little memoir piece I was moved to write after several conversations with long time and recent music- making friends looking back on our early days playing music in Philadelphia. Part 1 was in last week’s newsletter, but if you didn’t see and are interested you can read it either on our website (www.dukesofdestiny.com) or on our Facebook page (www.facebook.com/dukesofdestiny)

Pt 2-The Square, Coffeehouses and Loving the Music

   The United States was undergoing rapid change on all fronts in the mid-1960’s, and Philadelphia was no exception. The so-called “generation gap” had hit, and everything from clothes to music to media to politics and more was changing and being challenged. The Civil Right Movement and the Anti-Vietnam War movements brought marches, demonstrations and petition signing into the public. “Hippies” and longhairs were seemingly coming out of the woodwork with their long hair, denim jackets, blue jeans, and tee shirts with political and/or rude comments on them. The Black Power Movement saw many blacks wearing their hair natural rather than straightening it. Political buttons, peace symbols, drug use, music, and more clearly marked new social and political delineations in the country. The clear line of behavior that people thought of as emblematic of the 1950’s was more and more being challenged and replaced by what many people came to see as a “movement” toward more freedom loving lifestyle. Movements need their own places, and they need their own soundtrack. In mid-196o’s Philadelphia, Center City’s Rittenhouse Square provided some of both.

 

   Located between 18 and 19^th Streets and Locust and Walnut Streets, the Square became the hub of a rising new social and musical scene, a place where all types of people gathered, from chess players and poets to musicians, political activists, and pot smokers. It was a place to hang out and talk politics or art, and most importantly, to play music. Guitarists, flute players, harp players, and more were there from the late afternoons into the evening most days. Jamming happened on a regular basis. A truly magical and vibrant musical scene grew up around the Square, and I was privileged to have been involved with it.  It was here through the late 1960’s and early 1970’s that I started playing seriously, and I met some wonderful musicians. Hanging around the Square I got to hang with a number of great harp players including a young Steve Guyger, Richard Johnson, later from Philly Gumbo, Dave Lowenstein, Saul Brody, and others There were also a  number of great guitarists I jammed and traded licks with, and playing with them was how I started to learn what it meant to play WITH someone  and accompany rather than constantly soloing. The Square, then, was my” training ground” as well as one of my first “stages.” It put me in touch with an incredible network of aspiring and established musicians. And I was continuing to improve.

  During these times there were a slew of small coffeehouses that magically sprang up in different neighborhoods all around the city.  Churches were losing young congregants, and I think many of them, especially Episcopal churches for some reason, thought providing coffeehouses could draw some young people back to church. The Episcopal Church at Lincoln Drive and Carpenter Lane in Mt Airy had a weekly Saturday night coffeehouse where many young people held mini-concerts, poetry readings, jams and sing along. St. Mary’s Episcopal in West Philly on the Penn campus also had a regular coffeehouse where I sat in with other young musicians on a regular basis.. (That later became the site of the Cherry Tree Folk Club). Diane Bryman’s carpet store in Chestnut Hill had a coffeehouse on the second floor, which was where I actually got an early paying gig ($15.00). These were places where I hung out with and met a lot of musicians, and most importantly, had countless opportunities to play and jam. Yes, I made a whole slew of mistakes and errors. But I was playing continually, and that is the only way to learn music. And it was playing in these venues where I gained a lot of valuable experience, improved as a player, and learned to be a performer.

    The other thing I needed in my early days was chances to see real musicians in action, and Philadelphia provided that. The city had had an established folk music scene before the 1960’s, and it provided places where I got to hear, see and even meet some of my musical heroes. The Glided Cage was on 21^st Street. Run by Ed and Esther Halpern, the Cage was a restaurant and coffeehouse where I got to hear both local musicians and national acts. I got to hear folks such as Dave Van Ronk, and  Buffy St. Marie, and it was where I first had French Onion soup (smile). It expanded both my social land musical scenes.

   The 2^nd Fret was another place that was a staple of the Philadelphia scene. Located at 1902 Sansom Street and owned and operated by Manny Rubin, it was a place that featured different types of folk music including plenty of blues. I saw Sonny Terry and Brownie Mc Ghee there at least twice, and they even recorded an LP there. I saw Skip James there several times, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Mississippi John Hurt, and James Cotton, who gave me a  couple of harp lessons. Around the corner from the Fret was the Guitar Workshop a great music store and guitar school the featured legendary Philadelphia guitarist Jerry Ricks among its teachers. If you knew some of the Workshop folks, you could hang out there and meet several musicians who were playing the Fret when they came in for supplies and/or just to hang out. Out in Bryn Mawr was the Main Point, a club that, like the Fret, included a diverse lineup of performers. I somehow got money together to go to these places, heard, met and jammed with some of my favorite musicians, and kept growing as a harp player. They encouraged me, gave me tips, and fed my insatiable musical appetite. And by the mid 1970’s I thought of myself as a harp player. Yes, I was a bank teller, a security guard, a broommaker, and eventually a teacher as well. But through it all, I was also a maker of music; I was a musician.

   I’ve rarely been a full-time musician-I tried that for two years and decided that I liked being able to eat and pay rent regularly. But I defined myself as a musician by the early 1970’s, and I have been one ever since. I am grateful for the music scene in Philly during the mid-late 1960’s and early 70’s and the experiences with which it presented me. It was a time of learning, experimentation, new experiences and growth as both a musician and as a person. Had I not been at that place a that time, who knows what might have happened?? As it was I had a wonderful first step on what has been a long lasting and major part of my life. I would not have had it any other way.

 (The Philly folk and rock music scene exploded by the mid-1970’s.There were clubs on Walnut and Sansom Streets by 1968: Artemis and the 2^nd of Autumn on Sansom Street, and The Artist’ Hut and The Magic Theater on Walnut. Clubs also opened in different neighborhoods as well with Grendel’s Lair and World Control Studies in Germantown, and the Trauma and Electric Factory north of Center City. A number of players who later became nationally known musicians emerged from the area at the time: Jim Croce, Todd Rungren, Daryll Hall, John Oates, and  Steve Guyger among them. Here are a couple of sites that look back at that scene:

http://www.tmorganonline.com/index.php/venues-no-longer-there

https://www.facebook.com/groups/375736975851565/ (2^nd Fret) 

https://www.sceneroller.com/venues/artemis

https://billsmusicblog.blogspot.com/2007/09/remembering-main-point-1964-1981.html

https://philadelphiaencyclopedia.org/archive/rock-music-and-culture/   )

   

John's Early Days pt 1

DUKES FANS:

 The Early Days pt 1

  Over the last couple of weeks I have had several wonderful conversations about the joys, wonders and sometimes pain of playing music with a couple of friends. I have known some of them for years, and we spent time talking about the early days of our musical endeavors. We talked about people we had met and played with, places we had traveled to, exhilarating experiences that we had, embarrassing experiences we endured, hilarious events, and more. We also had lively reminiscences about some of the amazing places where we got to hear incredible music, and some great places we were fortunate enough to play. I enjoyed these conversations, and they got me thinking about my early playing days and the times. If it is alright, I would like to take the next couple of newsletters to reflect a bit on the early days of my love affair with music and how I got into playing.

  I come from a working class African-American family that lived in West Philadelphia. I was the youngest of three children, and I was born in 1950. Our first musical experiences were church-borne experiences; we were in the young peoples’ choir from early on, and we, of course, sang wonderful hymns during church services.

There was music in the house as well-we had a record player and mom played albums by Johnny Mathis, Nat King Cole, Louis Armstrong, and Duke Ellington among others. We all had to take piano lessons from Mrs. Bush at 52^nd and Girard when we got older. I was not good at all, and I hated practice. But my brother was quite good, and he still plays both the piano and the organ. We also sang regularly and had music lessons via the Thomas Dunlap public elementary school at 50^th and Race Street. I took trumpet lessons for a year through that school, bringing no end of pain and suffering to my neighbors, siblings, and parents. I tried mightily, but it was clear I was not going to be the next Louis Armstrong.

   We had a radio in the kitchen, and I listened to WHAT and WDAS, the local black music stations. Through them I heard a mix of Motown music, doo-wop, Stax records,  New Orleans rhythms from the South, and even the occasional Slim Harpo, B.B. King, Bobby Bland, and Roscoe Gordon blues song. These were AM stations; FM music radio stations had not yet happened. But after 9 PM at night some AM signals would drift in from other cities and states, and if you were in the kitchen after dinner you could catch those stations. I did a hell of a lot of after-dinner dishes to stay in the kitchen and hear those other stations. The popular music scene in the late 50’s and early to mid-sixties was changing in amazing ways, and it was carrying me right along with it.

    Music was all around us, then, and it was changing in some major and dramatic ways. Rock 'n' Roll hit hard in the late 50’s, and it’s combination of blues, country music and more threw commercial radio into a mess. They were not sure what to do with it as it became more and more popular, more wild, and brought some people together the larger society wanted to keep separate. Folk music and protest music also hit the airwaves in the wake of the Civil Rights and anti-Vietnam war movements, and some of this was going mainstream as well. The Beatles and the Stones heralded the English invasion in the mid-60’s, and we all know what that did to popular music and commercial radio. There seemed to be something new coming along every week, and eventually FM stations started appearing. I was a young kid through most of this, but I could follow all of these changes from our kitchen radio. There was not much in the way of programing, focus groups, or “data collection” then; disk jockeys would play pretty much what they wanted, and a number of them had widely eclectic tastes. I could hear, say, Ray Charles, the Beatles, Peter, Paul and Mary, the Four Seasons, and The Supremes and Temptations all within one hour and on the same show. By my high school years I was still listening to WHAT AND WDAS, but also to WMMR FM, WKBW AM from Buffalo, NY late at night, WNYC FM in NYC, Temple University’s WRTI jazz station, and more. It was a wonderful, exciting, and free-flowing mess. And, I went to a high school that had a bunch of hippies, young political activists, and even a folk music club. All of these sounds were all jumbled together and they affected me mightily. By the time I was 15, I was eagerly devouring all types of music and all types of sounds. And then this happened:

 

https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=15257975

   Seeing the Wolf on that episode of Shindig in 1965 launched me into playing the harmonica seriously and pursuing the blues wherever I could and however I could. I couldn’t afford to buy a lot of records, but the main branch of the Philadelphia Free Library was there and it was my first blues feeding ground. The Best of Muddy Waters; the multi-volume Alan Lomax Southern Folk Heritage Series with blues, country music, gospel, string bands, and more; Leadbelly records, Bukka White: all of these and a lot more were there for me to listen to for free in the library's music room. Also at the library I found the book Blues Harp, by Tony Glover of the folk blues trio Koerner, Ray and Glover. That book explained positions, taught me how to bend notes, and more. The Central High Folk Music Club had concerts at that time, including ones that featured blues guitarists/singers such as Mississippi John Hurt, Skip James, and Son House. Through that club I got to actually meet many of the musicians and Dick Waterman, who managed them along with Buddy Guy, and Junior Wells. It was an incredibly magical time for me, and my path was just being set out before me. All I had to do was follow.

  So from my church, my radio at home,  the public library, and those wonderful high school experiences I was steadily learning and absorbing a ton of great music. And best of all, I was also in the right place for all of this and at just the right time. For the Philly folk and rock music scene of the mid and late 1960’s was booming, and I was spending a lot of time at its epicenter-downtown Philadelphia in the neighborhood of good old Rittenhouse Square. (to be continued…)

The Power of Quotes and Happy Mothers' Day

DUKES FANS:

  “ Like your body your mind also gets tired, so refresh it by wise sayings”…Hazrat Ali

“I love quotations because it is a joy to find thoughts one might have, beautifully expressed with much authority by someone recognized wiser than oneself.”…Marlene Dietrich

                                            QUOTES AND MOM

Regular readers of these missives know that I frequently use a quote or quotes to introduce them. Often these are quotes that I found on the web recently, searched for, or stumbled across. More frequently, though, the quotes I use are words that have been familiar to me and used by me over a long period of time. I love quotes. They can succinctly capture an important idea in a few words that would be easy to remember. If they are easy to remember, you can use the ideas easily in your life. I also love them because you can sound relatively wise by using them (smile) But I am thinking about quotes today because thinking of them reminds me of the person who both initiated my love of quotes and provided me with some of the most important ones in my life-my mom, Ruth Edna Davis.

 Now all moms have quotes that nearly all of them say. I am sure there is somewhere a great, “Moms’ Quote Book’ that all moms have to sign out before they are allowed to become a mom.  In it are all the common quotes we remember from childhood. “Stop that look, or your face will permanently freeze like that!” “Clean your plate: there are people starving in China.”  “One day you’ll be a parent and then you will know!”   My mom read from that book like most moms do, and she used it well. But Ruth also had a lot of her own quotes, and it was from those I eventually realized I had learned some valuable life-long lessons. Mom’s quotes became templates form much of my life.

  When I would complain about having to learn something, “boring and unmercenary” for school, mom would often say, “Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.”  If I was being questioned about something I had done, and I shouted out, “He started it!” Mom would reply, “I didn’t ask what HE did:I asked what YOU did.” I was a mischievous kid, and I also had a great vocabulary; I could talk! But when I would go into a long explanation of why I had done something I shouldn’t have done, she would let me go on until I had finished. Then she would look me in the eye and quietly say, “It took you longer than two sentences to answer me; if it takes you longer than two sentences, you’re either lying or you’re hiding something!” WHEW! Busted! And speaking of lies, mom would sometimes say, “You know, a lie is the weakest thing there is. It can’t stand by itself-it always needs at least one other lie to support it.” What wisdom there was in those words.

  If you are an ex-student of mine, you probably recognize those quotes. For when I had gotten older I could reflect    back, realize the wisdom of some of the things my mother had been trying to teach me, and see  the infinite wisdom there was in some of those simply said sayings. So when a  student would ask me why we had to know about some long dead person or culture, I would often say, “I don’t know     why you need to know or learn this; I don’t. But it’s better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it” And when a student would go into a long, complex multi-   paragraph explanation of why he or she was doing                something they shouldn’t be doing, I would say, “It took    you longer than two sentences to answer me. If it takes    longer than two sentences then, you are either lying or you are hiding something.” These and many other quotes from mom were a staple of my teaching, and I freely gave her   credit for them. Even today when I run into an ex-student he or she is liable to say, “As Ruth Edna Davis said, …” and then quote my mom to me. It is one of the ways her           memory and legacy live on.                                              

  I do hope that as we celebrate this Mothers’ Day you have some fond memories of your mother and things she did and/or said that positively influenced you. If by some chance you don’t, I do hope you have someone who filed that role for you.  I think we all need a little “ Mother Love “from wherever we can get it. It seems a necessary ingredient in life.  Happy Mother’s Day.   

The Beauty and Surprise of April Lingers On Into May

DUKES FANS:

  My last two newsletters focused on the magic of April and the wonders of the sky, and last month certainly lived up to the promises of those writings. The sky played its part, featuring a gloriously bright full moon on April 19^th and 20th, and the Lyrid meteor showers from the 22^nd until the 25^th. The Lyrids are not as well-known as the Perseids, but they happen every April and are probably the oldest documented meteor showers. Ancient Chinese writings from some 2000 years ago mention them. Various planets were clearly visible on cloud free nights last month as well: Jupiter, Saturn, and Venus were visible for most of the month. We also had some interesting rains, including two in which it rained on one side of the street and not the other. Looking up in April proved wonderful, indeed.

 

   Interesting things were also taking place down here on lawns, alongside streets, and in the yards of the city and the burbs. Weeping and ornamental cherries bloomed mid-month as did saucer and lily magnolias. Their bright pink and white colors dramatically announced “spring,” as did the many tulips, crocuses, daffodils, and azaleas that all seemed to “pop” at once. And as the month went on, many of them started shedding their petals and leaves, creating glorious pink and white paths for us to walk upon. Citizens used to strew flower petals in the paths of returning war heroes and leaders in the days of the Roman Empire. Now we don’t need royalty or a war to have this happen; it was just nature doing its thing and providing us with beauty, wonder and comfort. It was amazing to see and to share that sense of wonder those petals brought forth as we traveled.

 

   Now we are into May and the joy of the sky and the quiet miracles of nature continue. I made a bunch of sugar water nectar, washed off the hummingbird feeders, and hung them outside; May 1^st is the traditional time to set out feeders to attract hummingbirds. The Colgan-Davis household has been doing that for some 25 years, and we have always had sets of these wondrous tiny beauties flitting and zooming about in our backyard garden. My wife also planted shrubs and plants to attract a variety of birds and butterflies to the garden, and they have paid off handsomely. From mid-May on we would sit in the garden and eat dinner, and, as Penny often said, “Wait for the show to begin.” The plants, shrubs and bird feeders are still there, and I am again waiting for the show to begin. Joe Pye Weed, laurels, milkweed,  roses, hydrangeas and more are all waiting to fully develop, and I will enjoy them and the various birds and butterflies they attract over the course of mid-spring and into summer. The sense of growth and rebirth hinted at in March and confirmed in April will be full-blown then, and I will be extremely grateful yet again.

 

The sky in May will its wonders as well. Saturn and Jupiter will be visible the whole month, Virgo and the Centaur will be among the most visible and identifiable constellations, and there will be a full moon on May 18^th. Looking up will continue to bring joy and wonder, especially in the early morning, and I look forward to being out and among these goings-ons. It is a free gift for the senses.

 

 The transitions and splendors of what nature presents us with continue to fascinate and amaze me. We have a chance to be reborn as we witness the continuing cycle of life taking place around us and take the opportunity to marvel and glory in what is before, around and above us. It is indeed very good to be merely human in the midst of all of this. What gifts; what gifts.

  

April Magic

DUKES FANS:

    This is an ode to April, an unapologetic, unabashed, and unreserved hymn to this special month. April is one of my favorite months, and I delight in watching it unfold.  The wonderful ongoing changes in the landscape and the weather resonate with just about everyone, bringing people out of their houses, onto the streets, and into their gardens. Walking around Mt Airy these days finds lawns filled with yellow and white dandelions, crocuses and tulips of different colors, daffodils and more. The smell of mulch is in the air as spring gardeners are pruning, cutting, and planting on lawns, in window boxes and in backyards. The cherry trees, lily and saucer magnolias, and peach trees are fully out now, and looking down just about any street in the Northwest gives us stunning views of bright leaves, shrubs, and bushes that suddenly popped into being just a few weeks ago. It is lighter for longer now, and we are getting steadily warmer days. Days that start in the 30’s or low 40’s at 6 AM move into the 40’s and 50’s by midday. These bright days infect everyone with smiles and laughter. Spring is fully here, and the rebirth of the earth is well underway. It is a joyous time.

 Throughout most of human history and for most cultures, spring was the logical and natural start of the “new year.’ The idea of starting over was clearly present in the landscape, the ways of animals, the growth of foliage and crops, and the length of the day. As we all know humans often look to what the earth is doing as a guide for symbolic and/or religious observances and rituals. So April has special observances that symbolically speak to the reality of a new beginning. Passover and Easter are close together this year, and both of these are rituals of rebirth and new starts. The ideas of resurrection and of a new nation bursting into being are in-line with the season-a new “way of being” arising out of and standing as a victory over death. It is fitting that both of these holy days are very key ones for their respective religions; this is where they are born. April is also host to Earth Day, a day dedicated to caring for and restoring the earth and attempting to save it from human destruction it. As the earth and its natural inhabitants are doing what they do and symbolically reflecting the rebirth of the planet, many humans are now dedicating themselves to actually restoring, respecting and caring for it. And with the effects of pollution, outsized energy consumption, climate change and more being felt all around us, we clearly need to do much, much more to restore and rescue our planet in more than merely symbolic ways. And quickly.

 April is also host to several other observances that are personally very important to me and that also convey elements of change and growth. One of these is National Library Month, which in my own life has definitely been linked to personal growth and renewal. As readers of these missives know, I passionately love and support libraries. When I was a kid it was libraries that fed my curiosity and provided me with information, direction, and a sense of personal power, and without that presence and availability of free public libraries and school libraries, who knows where I would be. My family was not well off, but I could go to the listening room at the main library at 19^th and the Parkway and discover and listen to the music that I loved. And I could discover new artists. It was in the reference section of libraries where I found out about Black cowboys, African art, world history and more. It was in the library where I discovered and explored modern American an experimental poetry. April is, in fact, National Jazz Month and National Poetry Month, and I dived into  both of these things freely and endlessly in libraries. Charles Mingus, Miles Davis, Muddy Waters, Kenneth Patchen, Langston Hughes, Alice Walker, Toni Morrison: I first encountered these musicians and writers who have been life-long influences of mine at the library. Libraries have always been part and parcel of what has taken me from what I know into new places and new ideas, and they still do. I encourage people to use and to financially support them. As historian Barbara Tuchman said, “Nothing sickens me more than the closed door of a library.” It is up to us to help those doors remain open.

   April, then is a big and important month for me. It announces change and restoration, rebirth and continued growth, and possibilities in many exciting ways, both real and symbolic. It is like a trumpet, announcing a grand beginning or entrance. As I wrote in 2017, each year we have the opportunity to, “…consciously join this annual celebration of rebirth. Slow down; get out of the car. Walk; look up from the screens that seem to dominate so much of life these days and see what is going on around us. Unplug and listen closely. There is a lot of life going on all around us, and it is wonderful to acknowledge it.” April is calling, and we only have to answer.

"SKYJOY!"

Highway of Combes le ville-Giovanni Boldinni

DUKES FANS:

‘The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.”  Ralph Waldo Emerson

“I've never seen a moon in the sky that, if it didn't take my breath away, at least misplaced it for a moment”. Colin Farrell 

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   I love this painting. I LOVE this painting. It is perhaps the most important painting I have ever seen in my life. I first saw it at the Philadelphia Museum of Art when I was in junior high school, and a few of us one afternoon, for some unremembered reason, decided to go the Philadelphia Museum of Art. I came upon the Boldini in the first floor gallery of European Art on a wall on the left of the gallery, and it literally stopped me. I was caught and amazed. I looked at it, moving closer to take in the all the beautifully crafted colors, the subtly changing shades of green and brown marking the highway, the scale of the carriage and the people, and the placement of the trees along the road. Then I noticed the sky in this painting-the varying shades of blue that seem to infuse the scene with magic, the way the background sky seemed to just arise and appear to slowly dominate the scene, and the marvelous clouds that seem to be quietly, majestically,  and steadily in motion. The scene felt alive; real, and I was hooked. Every time after that whenever I went to the museum I had to see that painting. In my high school years, in my early 20’s- for some fifteen or so years I visited this painting as often as I could. It changed location during those fifteen years, but I had to see It and I tracked it down. When they took it off view for some 15 years I was saddened. And when I saw it back on view in the 1990’s I was astonished and joyous and-I literally burst out crying when I first saw it again. This is probably the single most important painting I have seen in my life. For this is the painting that has made me forever look up and marvel at the sky.

   I was an urban kid and did not have too much experience being outside the city. Some summers we stayed for a while with relatives in Coatesville when I was a kid, but I really didn’t notice the sky then. I liked the trails we walked, the dirt roads, and the sounds of the freight train going to and from Lukens Steel. But I paid little attention to the sky. But in my high school years I had more outside experiences, and they happened after I had seen that painting. So I was much more aware of the sun, the clouds, the moon and the wondrousness of sky. I went to the Folk Festival and to Be-Ins and was listening to music outside in the day and in the night. I started going camping and birdwatching and could look at the sky away from city lights. Looking up became of vital importance to me. Fortunately, when I married Penny, she was a camper and birder as well. In fact we had a tent-camping honeymoon in Maine and Nova Scotia. And through our 40 year-long relationship we had so many incredible experiences with the wonders of the sky: seeing several eclipses over a lake at Montezuma State Park in upstate New York, watching full moons in West Virginia, Canada and upstate Pennsylvania; seeing dozens of meteor showers away from city lights and marveling at the sheer number of stars and meteors; waking with the sun numerous mornings in our campsites and watching many magical and colorful sunrises. And I will never forget the experience we had one night at one of her cousins’ house in Arizona: laying on sleeping bags for a couple of hours outside on the deck, watching a moose walk by the house, and looking up into the clear night sky at the Perseid meteor shower as a wolf howled. Watching the sky has become an important part of how I take In the world, and it brings me pleasure and joy.

   I am thinking of that now because I am again doing more walking and specifically more early morning walking. If I leave the house around 5:30-6:00 AM I am catching the last of the nights’ darkness and watching the day coming into being simultaneously. If I look south and east, I often see the orangish, yellowish, reddish streaks that are beautifully announcing the day. And if I look to the north and the west I can still see the moon sitting shyly above the roofs. It is just hovering there, watching over us for just a little longer. No matter the mood I am in upon awakening, seeing day and night simultaneously improves it, if only for a while. It is quiet amazement that I can tap into as I start my day. It is glorious.

    I owe all of that to Boldini and that magical highway in France. Encountering his work was the start of a lifetime of my “skyjoy.”  The way experiencing his marvelous work of art has influenced me still astounds me, and I am so grateful. I think I will visit the Art Museum again in the next week and spend some more time in Gallery 155. I have to say, “Thanks” to a painting.