In Praise of Glorious Autumn Leaves & “Housecat” (Poem for Alpine)

Posted on October 23, 2013 by Leslie Schultz

Every year, I am dazzled by the colors of the leaves as they turn and fall. Above are pink and green leaves in the Garden of Quiet Listening, a Japanese garden on the Carleton College campus, just a few blocks from my house. Every year, I want to hang onto these colors, to bring them inside, to keep them in some way past their expiration date. Here are a few attempts:

Many years ago, when it was brought home to me that all mammals don’t perceive color in the same way that humans tend to, I tried to imagine the world from the point of view of my cat, Alpine. Below is her baby picture, taken the first day I met her.

Some of you might remember Alpine. She used to spend lots of time on window ledges (and couches, too).

Alpine Undignified

Alpine has also inspired lines in several poems over the years, including the whole of this poem.

HOUSECAT

Alpine’s down is filling in
Between her summer fur and skin.
Crouched low on a window ledge,
She watches leaves desert the hedge.
She cannot see their orange and red;
Does Alpine mourn the autumn dead?
Not she; she yawns at the setting sun,
As much to say an evening’s done
As to convey an unconcern —
For whether seasons stay or turn.

Leslie Schultz (1982)

Alpine with Patience and Fortitude (New York Library Lions)

Here is Alpine the literary cat, overlooking Gulliver’s Travels, Vanity Fair, and (maybe?) Jane Eyre, colorful volumes held upright by scaled down copies of the famous New York Library Lions, Patience and Fortitude. Regarding color vision, it seems that the jury is still out on which colors cats can see. (If you are curious, here is an interesting link to an NBC News story.) All I know for certain is that I wouldn’t exchange my human color perception for anything, not even feline grace.

Have you seen any polka-dotted leaves this year?

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Waxings and Wanings & An Elegy for Autumn: “Compass II” (Poem)

Posted on October 16, 2013 by Leslie Schultz

Mississippi River, Looking North From 46th Street Bridge, Minneapolis

As the days shorten and darken, it’s natural to turn contemplative, to wonder if what have we done is of lasting value. Other mammals, like squirrels, feel the need to hurry their accomplishments toward a finish line. And yet, it is a new start, too. This is the time of the traditional Celtic celebration of the new year. I think that is the mood I feel with a new school season starting: a tallying up, a reckoning, a sense of “Okay…now what?” as I look ahead.

This week, as the leaves approach their most firey, I was able to take some photos of the Mississippi shoreline, view the scamperings and hear the scoldings of the squirrels, sigh with relief over a finally-repaired roof, and sigh with satisfaction over a well-stocked freezer full of organic farm produce. Now I am eyeing that stack of books–biographies of Jane Austen and Dorothy and William Wordsworth, Janet Burroway’s Writing Fiction: A Guide to Narrative Craft, Brunetti’s Cookbook (for vegetables with a Venetian twist), and a mystery I have been meaning to read for ten years, The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, which I found at a Little Free Library location recently.

As I type this, the rain that has been threatening all day has begun to dampen the pavement but I am basking in the glow of images of the past: albino squirrels in Northfield and Minneapolis, the blue bottle tree on Orchard Street, the contrast between the Cannon and the great Mississippi into which it flows. Time for the season’s first cup of hot cocoa and good book!

COMPASS II

More than a flock of geese veeing their way south,
one industrious squirrel, its piston-mouth
dropping walnut shells like sharp metal filings,
and acidic turns in walnut leaves’ stylings
(their change from deepest green to lemony yellow-gold)
leaves me bone-deep certain that the year is old;
makes me wonder if the harvest is enough
and then ponder if the winter will be rough,
if the Christmas season will hold any cheer
or if implacable blue shadows draw near.

Autumn is rich in harvest and imagery,
its coppers and golds rusting towards elegy.
My lone hope is to refine this sinking mood,
to render polished words from bleak attitude,
and strike, on the anvil used by all the bards,
something more lasting than those keen, tanic shards.

Leslie Schultz

Thank you for reading this! If you think of someone else who might enjoy it, please forward it to them. And, if you are not already a subscriber, I invite you to subscribe to the Wednesday posts I am sending out each week–it’s easy, free, and I won’t share your address!

Cannon River, Looking South From Second Street Bridge, Northfield

Urban Adornments Afield: The Utility Boxes of Minneapolis and the Doors of San Jose

Posted on October 9, 2013 by Leslie Schultz

This morning, when it is tempting to feel quite downhearted about stalled government at the national level, I want to shift focus to some truly inspiring examples of partnerships between local governments, local communities, and local artists. Maybe these two examples, from Minneapolis, Minnesota, and from San Jose, California, will give you, too, a moment of respite by reminding you of the ways we join together to make things better.

What is more ungainly than a utility box or service door, unless it is one that is covered in graffiti? Today, I want to celebrate the way two cities are thinking outside the box by combining vandalism abatement, urban beautification, and support for neighborhood artists–many of them young people.

Now, I am someone who frequently finds graffiti weirdly beautiful and strange and incredibly creative. On the other hand, a little (even of the very best) of this freelance civic expression goes a long way; too much tips the landscape in a broken windows wasteland, an appearance of neglected and shattered hopes.

In Minneapolis, there is a new program to expand public art by local artists that captures the spirit of the city, beautifies baldly utilitarian surfaces, and deters vandalism. If you drive along Lake Street toward the Mississippi River, you’ll spot several examples. More can be found in other neighborhoods. These public art pieces are either painted by the artist at the site (and then coated for durability) or created by first digitizing the art, then transferring it to a vinyl wrap that is applied to the metal box. Both result in surprising and mood-lifting “art surprises” just where one least expects to see them.

Here’s a terrific example: isn’t the symphony of blues a marvelous contrast to the golden leaves this week? What will it be like next to the snow of December? Now look a little bit closer:

I love the sweetness of the eyes of each dog. And I am so pleased that there is room for the work of two artists, front and back, along with their names, photos, and brief statements, as you can see below:

Below, a vivid close-up of a flower contrasts with a burnt-out building.

Farther afield, in beautiful San Jose, California…

Last year, Tim and I travelled to San Jose. We stayed right downtown, at the historic Sainte Claire Hotel. Both of us were wowed by the friendliness of the people, the number of cultural institutions (and great food!) within walking distance, and the absolute abundance of public art, from murals …

to mosaic tiles…

to whimsical sidewalk chalk…

The form that most captivated me, however, was the way the city had partnered with young high school artists and local businesses and organizations to transform blandly ugly service doors into portals into other realms through one-of-a-kind art.

According to Rick Jensen, Communications Director of the San Jose Downtown Association, the non-profit that launched the Downtown Doors project in 2003, it received national recognition last year. In 2012, the National Endowment for the Arts gave the project a $25,000 grant from the NEA, and it also won the International Downtown Association Award for public place-making in 2012. (And the award was received by them in …. Minneapolis!…. last September.)

Rick’s email informed me that, “The Washington, D.C.-based International Downtown Association (IDA), a champion for vital and livable urban centers which strives to inform, influence and inspire downtown leaders and advocates, gave its highest Pinnacle Award to SJDF in the category of Public Space, “recognizing capital improvements that enhance the community’s urban design, physical function or economic viability.”

“The San Jose Downtown Foundation’s project received this prestigious award for demonstrating excellence in downtown management,” said David Downey, IDA President and CEO. “Each year the IDA honors the very best programs and projects in each category to recognize great work and most importantly to set the standard for best practice in our industry. Downtown Doors is a wonderful example for all downtowns to emulate.”

“In awarding Downtown Doors a $25,000 ArtWorks grant,National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) Chairman Rocco Landesman spoke directly to the essence of the Downtown Doors program: “The arts should be a part of everyday life. Whether it’s seeing a performance, visiting a gallery, participating in an art class, or simply taking a walk around a neighborhood enhanced by public art, these grants are ensuring that across the nation, the public is able to experience how art works.””

With 25 new doors serving as the canvas for 25 new young artists in 2013, the City of San Jose now has 80 showcases for imagination. For a map of locations and thumbnails of each unique design, please click here. I love to think about the young people who were in grade school when the program began and had work accepted this year; similarly, I wonder where life has taken the original cohort of artists.

I know on a much smaller scale, from working with others in Northfield on public art projects, how much care and idealism, how many hours and meetings, go into a project like this. So today, I would like to salute these two major cities for their ongoing and inventive commitment to bringing people together through art.

If your town or city has a program that lifts your heart around public art, please let me know!

Simple Pleasures: Clean Windows with Poem

Posted on September 25, 2013 by Leslie Schultz

We bought our house in part for its good light. It has a small 1905 footprint, only about 30 feet by 20 feet, but it also has lots of casement windows, the old kind with weighted sashes, as well as fixed plate glass, newer combinations, and skylights in the attic. Lots of high windows.

Even the ground floor, windows are far above our heads, most of them, and our house is tall and narrow, with three floors. This means washing the windows is a job for professionals, which means it is quite expensive, which means it happens infrequently.

Northfield Historical Society

All this combines to render a dramatic transformation on those rare occasions when the windows are freshly washed. This happened last week, and the magic is still fresh. Now, instead of glancing out the window and thinking, “Is it raining? I can’t quite tell”, because of the accumulation of grime, I can see as clearly as through crystal clean water. The foreman of the crew–who thanked me for the board book about cows I’d given him for his new baby on his last visit four years ago–could it have been that long?–complimented us on the wavy glass set in the old frames.

The equinotical light, long and slanted this time of year, is a thing of beauty as it tumbles the images of green leaves, white clouds, and blue sky into our house. At dawn and sunset, pink and gold fires light themselves for a few moments in cool, smokeless splendor before winking out.

Northfield Arts Guild

When our windows are clean, it seems to me as though I see everything in my life with more clarity and precision. Architecturally, windows are derived from doors. Etymologically, the word “window” is derived from the Old Norse words for “wind” and “eye”.

Plaza Hotel–Milwaukee

And so, in praise of windows and window washers, I would like to share these photographs taken over several years, as well as a short new poem.

Clean Window

Wind door. Sun door. Door
for soft breeze and summer rain,
lens for clear vision.

Northfield Post Office

Urban Adornments–An Overview

Posted on September 18, 2013 by Leslie Schultz

Aside from architecture, landscaping, and over-all civil engineering, cities have lots of options for encouraging higher experience of enjoyment, quality of life, sheer delight for visitors and residents alike. As one of our city councilors, Suzie Nakasian, put it recently, public art shows that we are a “place that cares about place.”

High School Sculpture–Defeat of Jesse James Days

There are so many examples I would like to highlight that I have decided to do a series of posts–a new one every now and then–so that I can show particular approaches or places in-depth. Later this fall, I am planning one on the public art of San Jose, California, one on the hanging signage I love, and a third on examples of that most kindly of literary mushrooms, the Little Library.

For now, I offer a brief overview of Northfield out-in-public art (not necessarily Official Public Art) I have enjoyed (and was able to photograph) over the past year. I have included anonymous graffiti as well as art visible from the street on private homes and businesses, as well as officially sanctioned art pieces.

Art on Bridge Square, Northfield, Minnesota

This kind of addition of uplifting beauty and whimsy lifts our hearts and slows us down. We’re more likely to say a few hellos or decide to patronize the local knitting store, bakery, or art gallery for that special gift instead of opting for gift cards or items from a big box or department store, and that is good for local merchants (our neighbors). The incentive to walk, making it not only possible but pleasurable to walk to a destination, surely a most healthy mode of transport for the individual, the community, the local economy, and the planet.

Downtown Northfield Sign

Downtown Northfield Sign without Text

Modern Cave Painting on the Sidewalk?

: Little Library–St. Olaf Avenue

Here’s the 2005 sculpture, “Harvest”, by Ray Jacobson, in sight of the Ames Mill. Made to commemorate Northfield’s 150 birthday, the sculpture represents shocked grain. Some also see three pairs of cowboy boots!

: Heart of Northfield–Fountain Sculpture and Civil War Memorial with Eagle Sculpture

Merely games boards? Or keenly placed graphic art as well?

Sculpture outside of the Northfield City Hall

Winona Media

Poems & Stories From the Heart

Author Archives: Leslie Schultz

In Praise of Glorious Autumn Leaves & “Housecat” (Poem for Alpine)

Waxings and Wanings & An Elegy for Autumn: “Compass II” (Poem)

Urban Adornments Afield: The Utility Boxes of Minneapolis and the Doors of San Jose

Simple Pleasures: Clean Windows with Poem

Clean Window

Urban Adornments–An Overview

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Clean Window

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