Posts: 8
Posts: 2
Bottom Up in the UP
I'm talking about places like the Ontonagon County Historical Society and the Ontonagon Theater of Performing Arts, that build the cultural fabric from the bottom up. These two institutions, one decades old, one founded a few years ago, promulgate and preserve the intellectual, imaginative life in a part of the world generally defined by physical culture: hunting, fishing, skiing, boating, snowmobiling, ATVing -- or working in the mill, the shipyard, the forests. In the past month I've been in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, I've written about Calumet and the Porkies, but I've tended to neglect the town that has always been the center of my summer sojourns, Ontonagon.
Ontonagon, aka Harbor Town, is a boom and bust town if there ever was one. Located at the egress of the Ontonagon River, it has been a portal between the county's interior and Lake Superior -- and, thereby, the world -- since the 1800s. Vast swathes of timber used to float here; at the end of the 19th century, they caught on fire and the entire town burned down, except for the brick lighthouse on the river's west side. That lighthouse is still there today; the historical society offers daily tours. Progress has been so halting in this part of the world that the past is palpably present, not just in the form of relics (a century-old windup foghorn), but in the family names: Many of the old lighthouse keepers' descendants are still Ontonagon citizens.
The historical society also runs a museum in downtown Ontonagon that is chockablock with artifacts of a frontier life that's still very much in sway. Needless to say, mostly retirees and teenagers volunteer their time to keep this effort afloat. Bruce Johanson, my husband's old music teacher, was our avuncular tour guide for the lighthouse. (Two weeks before, his daughter Linda, also a school teacher, took us horseback riding). These are the unheralded stars of small-town cultural institutions, as important in their own right as Brad and Angelina.
Yet another teacher -- god bless the educators! -- spearheaded the effort to put a theater in the town's old brick library building a decade ago. Dana Brookins and her Harbortown Players put on several plays a year; tonight, their version of Gypsy opens. I admit full nepotism here: my dog Otis's father is one of the cast members, and Dana is one of my husband's oldest friends. The Ontonagon Theater of Performing Arts also hosts visiting artists -- shining a beacon of its own.
No discussion of Ontonagon cultural institutions would be complete without a mention of Stubb's, the bar/museum that has been a repository for yellowing mining photos, taxidermied animals, beer cans, traps, liquor-advertising paraphenalia, and Packers memorabilia since the '30s. It's like a Hard Rock Cafe, with guns and bears instead of guitars and costumes. My parents took me here for afternoon Cokes when I was a wee lass. Now, every summer, we hold our annual Canada vs. U.S. foosball tournament here. Since America won again this year, the trophy now stands amid the overflow of bric-a-brac behind the bar, making my life almost complete.
Evelyn McDonnell is MOLI's editor at large. Her Populism blog runs Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Everyday Awesome
As I write this, my significant other is slumbering peacefully about 25 feet away. He knows that Im planning to go to the annual sale at the vaunted Pewabic Pottery on Friday, but what he doesnt know is the ungodly amount of money I intend to spend. Ive been slowly collecting stonewear from the legendary Arts and Crafts institution for years and, since I know theyll be putting out the pieces that I need to complete a full dinner set tomorrow, Im determined to be camped on the stoop when those doors swing open.
If Ive discovered one important thing about life, its that its too short to dine from boring, generic dishes. What seems like a minute aspect of our existence (ferrying food from the source, to the table, to our mouths) is actually an important, necessary ritual that we perform multiple times daily. Without really thinking about it, I began to assign some importance to the tools used for this function. My kitchen shelves, once nothing more than the containment area for a hodgepodge of dinnerware-in-a-box remnants, eventually blossomed into a gallery bulging with interesting, rustic and fanciful options to transform my day. Now, even a bowl of ice cream affords the opportunity to interact with a marvelous work of art.
One person who is well acquainted with this idea is the brilliant Budapest-born sculptor/potter/designer Eva Zeisel. A self-described maker of useful things, her imaginative, breathtaking creations have been transforming everything from casserole dishes to cruets into high art since 1924. Her influence, particularly in regard to the smooth, flowing lines of the Eames era, left an indelible mark on the way dishes, tiles, and vessels of all kinds appear today.
In a recent interview with New York Magazine, Zeisel, who continues to be a productive and prolific designer at 101 years old (she'll be 102 in November), described her work as very friendly.
Its my way of approaching the world, she told writer Akiko Busch. I am a playful person.
A look at her sensuously arching gravy boat from the late 40s (reissued recently by Crate and Barrel as part of the Classic Century collection of Zeisel dinnerware) or her modernist take on a Japanese tea set from the 60s reveals that the artist's soaring vision was never compromised by the numerous design eras it thrived in. Her work has always been about simplicity, economy, and a robust reflection of the natural world. Happy to use, happy to handle, is one of her mantras and its as true today as ever.
A video documenting Zeisel at work in her Rockland County, New York, studio can be seen on her website, Evazeiseloriginals.com. It is also there that you can find her latest creations available for purchase. Though the gorgeous Centennial Goblets (pictured) seduce me with no effort whatsoever, they are priced a little out of my league. I have instead set my sights on this trio of elegant, sand-casted brass candlesticks.
I suggested to the slumbering man (who has since arisen) that these would make a fabulous gift for my October birthday. Just dont tell him about my heavy lifting at Pewabic tomorrow.
Wendy Case is the MOLI View's contributing editor for Arts & Entertainment. She is a guest editor for Fashion and Design for today.
Mrs. Robinson
Dear Gillian,
My wife and I are both 25-years-old, and her mother is 46. I love my wife and she is very beautiful, but her mom is stunning! Her mom is a bit of a flirt and we have a great rapport, but I think my wife has been getting a little jealous lately. Its obviously all in good fun and to stop goofing around with her mom would be like admitting I was doing something wrong (and Im not). How do I get my wife to not be so insecure?
Regards,
Dave in the Middle
Dear Dave in the Middle,
You doth protest too much, methinks. Who are you to say that you are not doing anything wrong? Your relationship with your mother-in-law rubs your wife the wrong way -- and from what you write, her feelings seem pretty darn valid.
You think that your mother in law is more attractive than your wife (She is very beautiful, but her mom is stunning!) and perceive a flirtatious vibe coming from her. Something is wrong with this dynamic and I see two possibilities:
1) Your mother in law is not flirtatious with you, she is just being friendly and you are misinterpreting her behavior. You may be the one with inappropriate feelings and what you detect is really just wishful thinking. If this is the case, you must own up to your emotions and deal with them. Dont make your wife feel like shes the one with a problem (being insecure) if shes really onto something.
2) Your mother in law is flirting with you. (Being friendly and joking around is one thing, and completely fine, but that would not b