Wilho Saari in Concert

     I wasn’t quite prepared for what I saw last night at the Columbia Pacific Heritage Museum.  It was the opening of “Working With Tradition: Folk Artists of Washington State.”  The exhibition includes fourteen illustrated information panels sent from the Washington State Historical Society– a traveling show to which local museums add their own artifacts and examples of their area’s “folk art.”
     Each of the panels featured a Washington State artist working in what I would characterize as an “ethnic tradition.”  Folk art, yes, but basically from other cultures and brought to our state from the rich traditions of other countries.  A much different look at folk art than what I expected.
      According to the exhibit’s introductory information, the term “folk art” came into use in the early 1950s and originally described objects such as weather vanes and cigar store Indians.  Perhaps I was stuck in that era – or at least overly influenced by several visits to the American Folk Art Museum in New York years ago.  I think my expectations were of those sorts of things that are now termed “antique folk art” – items never intended to be ‘art for art’s sake’ at the time of their creation, often made to serve a specific purpose in the lives of everyday people.   In my mind weathervanes andold store signs, carousel horses and scrimshaw, duck decoys and, yes, cigar store Indians and weathervanes were what folk art was all about.
     From my limited viewpoint, then, thank goodness for the artifacts from the CPHM collection that rounded out the exhibit!  There were the colorful models of Seaview cottages made by Dr. Robert Blancher and by Ruth Mustola.  There was the tiny model of the gone-but-not-forgotten Loomis mansion by Gil Diaz and the model of the North Beach ferry – that particular ferry before my time, but bringing back nostalgic memories all the same.
     I loved Otto Oja’s wood sculptures and Theodore Lugnut’s knot decorated frames.  And how about that intricately fashioned bouquet of hair, much like the ones still hanging in the Red House in Oysterville done by my great-grandmother!  And then, the colorful beaded costumes that were of unknown origin and given by unnamed donors.  Talk about “folk art!”  Perfect!
     Best of all, of course, was the display about Wilho Saari and his kantele music.  It was a thrill to realize that our Naselle neighbor was one of the featured folk artists in the traveling exhibit but the extra bonus to us last night, of course, was that Mr. Saari was there in person giving a kantele concert.
     He not only played – and for one number, sang! – but he told about this national instrument of Finland and shared stories of his family’s long association with it, from the time of his great-grandmother back in the ‘old country.’.  When Mr. Saari was a child, seven-plus decades ago, his father was probably the only kantele player in the Northwest, he told us.  Now, thanks in large measure to the teaching of Wilho Saari, himself, there are many more kantele musicians in this region.  Last night, however, I knew I was hearing the best – living folk art right here on the peninsula.  Fabulous!

Expanding My View is a post from: Sydney of Oysterville

Memorial Installation, Long Beach

     Behind the police station in Long Beach, in the area that was all too briefly the Friday Market, a new and interesting memorial is being placed.  It will involve a semicircle of flags, the central one in the arc a “ginormous” one, according to the city worker who spoke to me.  Each of the concrete supports will house a floodlight and be faced with a bronze plaque honoring one of our services – army, navy, air force, marines, coastguard, plus one for the POWs. The flags will surround a concrete patio with a huge bell.
     I don’t know the story behind the memorial yet.  There has not been an article about it in the paper.  So, I was more than curious and, I have to admit, I had some uncharitable thoughts – like “what about Verna Oller’s swimming pool?”
     I talked to a few people about that and, as I suspected, I was looking at apples (mom and apple pie, more likely) and asking about oranges (or, maybe by now, lemons).  The city of Long Beach is still vigorously exploring the pool possibilities but, so far, the sticking points continue to be on-going maintenance, liability insurance and other operating costs – expenses that Verna specified could not come out of the four and a half million dollars she left to the city.  It’s a BIG problem.
     Meanwhile, the memorial behind the police station was a straight-ahead project – apparently affordable and doable in short order. And, very probably, it will be enormously popular.  After all, Long Beach is the city that boasts “Loyalty Days: Since 1950, the longest consecutively running loyalty celebration in the nation.”
     My thoughts also flew to what creates a town’s character.  Is it significant that Long Beach never voted funds for a library but might have more go-carts per capita than any other town in the Northwest?  And what single image comes to mind when I think of other towns here on the Peninsula?
     In Seaview, it’s tree-lined streets with their charming Victorian cottages.  In Ocean Park, it’s clam guns at Jack’s Country Store and easy beach access.  In Nahcotta, it’s the piles of oyster shells near a dock crowded with oyster dredges.  In Oysterville, it’s the quiet bayside vistas and the “time stood still” feeling.
     I wonder what comes to mind for other people.  How personal is a sense of place and how does a place determine its priorities?  Thoughts to ponder…

Priorities and a Sense of Place is a post from: Sydney of Oysterville

Cock-a-doodle… Stew! is a post from: Sydney of Oysterville

Cow Parsnip: A Sure Sign of Summer is a post from: Sydney of Oysterville

The H.A. Espys, 1904

     My grandmother’s letters to her children (written almost one hundred years ago) are sprinkled with comments like:  Be sure not to sit up late.  With all the afternoon at your disposal you should always be in bed by 9:30 and Be careful of your health.  You must not neglect Grippe and develop pneumonia.
     It is those kind of remarks that give me a picture of day-to-day concerns and thoughts of the era in which my mother and her siblings grew up.   Those gentle admonitions and bits of advice offer an intimate look at family relationships of the last century.  It’s the kind of ‘history’ I most enjoy and why I based my Dear Medora book, on the correspondence between my grandmother and her oldest daughter.
     I was, therefore, a bit taken aback a few years ago when an acquaintance who had just read the book asked me, “Did you know your grandmother?”
    “Yes, very well,” I responded.  “She didn’t die until I was in college.”
     “Was she always so bossy?”
     “Bossy?!  Not at all.  She was a gentle sort of person.  I would never consider her bossy,” I said.
     “Oh,” was the response, “she always seemed to be telling Medora what to do – not to forget her umbrella or to spend more time studying or…”
     I’m afraid I became rather snappish at that point.  “I guess I just call that good parenting,” I said.
     Variations on that conversation have come up since, most recently after my “Author! Author!” presentation on Mother’s Day.  A few of the audience members and I talked about the differences in how children are brought up today.  One person referred to today’s parenting-style-of-choice as “The Discovery Method” as compared to “The Guidance Method” of past years.
     Perhaps each has its merits.  The discussion led, of course, to whether or not children need boundaries or just a safety net and how we perceive the role of adults in our fast-moving society.  It was one of those never-ending sorts of discussions and I’m sure it will come up again.  (And, I might add – Dear Medora may not be on any best seller lists, but I consider it a total success as long it continues to provoke such thoughts.)

In the Eye of the Beholder is a post from: Sydney of Oysterville