From Williamsburg VA, to the Okefenokee Swamp GA, Feb 10 – 21

From Williamsburg VA, to the Okefenokee Swamp GA, Feb 10 – 21


It did snow in Williamsburg; wet and windy and raw and so a perfect day for the DeWitt Wallace Museum and more specifically the Abby Rockefeller Folk Art section.

I was shepherded through by Ellen Morris, an interpreter/docent who gave me nearly 2 hours, one on one, as she described individual objects collected by Abby; an amazing array of fascinating art made by normal folk without the blessing of institutions. I was particularly drawn to carvings and weathervanes and as my old neighbor, Mrs. Hutchinson was a master theorem painter, I thought of her while admiring the collection.

When I came out 5 hours later, the sun had vanquished the snow and Williamsburg Village was a Christmas card scene. If prancing horses, sleds and sleigh bells had been there; I would have been looking at 200 years ago.

On Thursday I drove across Virginia in glorious sunshine. The roads were clear and sure. My goal was Roanoke where I found a hotel, which reminded me of the Crimea. Almost everything had a dusky smell. The guy at the desk was certainly Russian and after he asked for my driver’s license and photocopied it, I remembered the same being done in Sevastopol. This place was on the edge of a city Airport. It was certainly quiet; there was one other car in the lot.

Friday, I met with Lavahn Hoh, (now Dean of Arts? at the U of VA, Charlottesville) in a Ruby Tuesday restaurant nearby. He was one of my graduate students at the University of Wisconsin, now 37 odd years later he’s still where he was hired and is the only prof. I know who teaches a course related to all aspects of Circus. Consequently, with him in mind and found in my special flea market, I bought and brought an ancient Circus tent mallet; an 8 pound chunk of bug eaten, oak, ringed either end with hoops of steel and connected to a sturdy ash handle. If only there was a song about a tent pole driving man! We reminisced about UW days and old friends and then he had to leave for a previously scheduled appointment.

He mentioned “Barter Theatre” about 100 miles south and suggested I visit. I dialed it in to Tom-Tom and a few hours later bought tickets to a superb performance of “Alice in Wonderland “. Imaginative choreography throughout, for example when Alice has to go down the rabbit hole, a chorus of 8 dancers, dressed in brown, picked her up under her arms and flew her around the stage, bent down to create a ledge and rolled her across their backs, flipped her over and pulled her under. These same actors played all the bit parts by adding masks and props. The Cheshire cat, for example, had a segmented mask, so that eyes, nose, ears could each be folded back, over the actors head, to leave only the smile.

Kids in the audience participated with Alice as she got too big or too small to fit through doors held by the chorus. “ Should I eat this? “ she’d ask; to a response … “ No, it’s poison” from some tyke in the front row.

On Saturday, a little overcast, I drove towards Asheville and into a blizzard. Not a whiteout, rather lots of large flakes blowing horizontally. The road twisted and climbed through ever-higher mountains. This was completely unexpected and reminded me of Vermont passes as I neared the highest point. Signs warned truckers to shift into lower gears; a 7 degree slope ahead and in case of brake failure, a run-away truck ramp at almost every corner. As I came down I drove out of Winter into Spring; red buds burgeoning on maples, robins in their hundreds; Asheville in sunshine.

Haley, John and Evan Davison were friends we had made in Kaua’i a year ago last January 09 who have since moved to Asheville. Both Haley and John are artists and Evan their son, is a 10-year-old energizer bunny with unlimited imagination. They bought a house overlooking a park with a baseball diamond and behind it, a singing brook.

Furniture that Haley made in Kaua’i looks great in the new house. She’s a master cabinetmaker with a very discriminating eye for contrast and color in wood. Koa is one of the trees grown in Hawaii and the wood has a wonderful grain, almost like diffraction grating, catching and changing light as the observer moves. Haley uses it to great advantage. Check her out online. John paints and has been likened to Georgia O’Keefe except his themes are of the dramatic scenery of Kaua’i.

Asheville has many similarities to Brattleboro Vermont. Art Galleries are thick on the ground and it’s undulating. A walk downtown or for that matter anywhere will get the heart pumping. It’s mountainous; the houses near their home were built in the 20ies and are rustic, comfortable spreads with mature trees in their surrounding yards. We hiked up to the famous Grove Hotel about a mile from their house made of dark field

stone and overlooking, literally a drop of a few hundred feet, a very challenging golf course. It took awhile before my second wind kicked in and I wasn’t gasping for breath. First stop was an Art and Furniture Gallery, which is as good as they get. It housed a tremendous range of super work costing from a few bucks to thousands. Outside, were wind turned sculptures, which I photographed and will try to reproduce? We continued up the hill in a slight rain and entered the main hall of the Grove, a cavernous space about the size of a football field, with two giant walk-in fireplaces on either side. A fire was burning in one while an attendant threw 6’ lengths of wood, criss-crossed over massive iron dogs. The blazing result was similar to one of my bonfires at home. We had a light snack, a beer and listened to a guitar quartet. The wind whistled whenever a door was opened, they being equally large. The building was probably built in the late 1800’s; it has the same quality as the great Railroad Hotels, like Banff; a person feels quite small.

Next day, I met Brent and Kurt two woodworking friends of Haley’s. Brent was the reason she chose to live in Asheville; his work is quite unique as he carves wood to look like river rocks and incorporates them into wild but functional furniture. Kurt carves without sketching; he just removes everything that isn’t necessary to reveal what’s in his mind. Both very neat folk; just the kind of people I had hoped to meet on this trip! Brent is a connoisseur of Bourbon. He sucked his teeth when I told him I had acquired a bottle of “ Bookers”, a particularly strong and tasty drink. It makes your toes warm about 30 seconds after the first sip. Eventually I’ll be reminded of their last names and then I can highly recommend checking them out online.

I had great fun with Evan who showed me his latest Leggo creations; galactic warships with droids and laser fighters. I made him a ball in a wire cone sculpture and, along with the sons of Brent & Kurt, they puzzled whether the ball was going up or down when spun. I also taught them to make a $ shirt, an origami folding of a dollar bill, and we got heavily into computer microscopes checking out each others ears, noses and skin. An experiment with a drop of water

from the Venus Fly trap produced wriggling critters and gasps of disgust from the boys.

On Monday, school was cancelled again as a dusting of snow overnight had left swirling white on the streets. John drove me about 5 miles away to give some perspective, up and up winding roads until we ran into ice and hard pack on the road. School busses and their drivers are not prepared for these conditions, thus the cancellation. I reckon we got to about 2000 feet above Asheville before turning back. Impressive panoramas in every direction with very large, costly houses nestled in the ridges and ravines. With this type of wealth, perhaps the artists can make a living? I like to think so.

Tuesday, another cancelled school day so I had a proper chance to say goodbye before leaving for Atlanta. Once again I passed through the surrounding mountains. Since I was approaching from the North and it was a beautiful clear day, last night’s snow lay deep on the ground and highlighted the branches of the forest trees. I stopped at a rest center and marveled at the scene I would have expected to see in New Hampshire. This area is certainly
to my liking.

In driving down the mountain into Georgia

the snow melted to dirt and brown fields and became flat. Lots of Lob Lolly pine grew in rows along the highway. I reckon they’re used for telephone poles as they rise like giant straws, straight and true. For most of the way there were almost no other cars on the wide 4-lane highway, until I approached the outskirts of Atlanta. It then became a moving tide of vehicles, 6 lanes, one way, tearing along at 70+ miles per hour, each a few feet off the other in an every increasing flow. The speed limit is 50; one would be flattened to obey. I can’t remember any other city in the world, (Rome, London, Paris?), where there is such a density of traffic. Perhaps LA comes close. I have a memory of a woodcut, a driver in Chicago, teeth gritted, hanging on to his steering wheel to the point that his knuckles are white. It’s not surprising that there are 2 or 3 fatalities every day around the city.

I haven’t seen Paul & Sally Wonsek since a delightful wedding in Vermont 13 years ago. The groom arrived sun burnt to say his vows because we’d all been canoeing that morning on a nearby river. Paul was a theater student the year I taught at U Mass, Amherst. Besides working on productions we skied together at Mount Tom. He taught me a lot. Today his business is involved with converting church spaces into theatre spaces, as more and more, especially in the South, pastors want to entertain as well as pontificate. Often their efforts are televised so light levels have to be high and lighting positions, if properly positioned, allow for modeling and excellent visibility.

On Thursday, we went to install two “ moving lights “, computer controlled lights that can turn any direction, change color, and include slides called gobos, flash in patterns; one light performing the task of many. The church was on the other side of Atlanta. Once again into and through the maelstrom of traffic, which is easier when, Paul is driving because he knows the way. Hairy when I’m driving; one has to be well positioned to make some of the off ramps.

The pastor of this church is a soft-spoken gentleman who is not afraid to “get down and dirty” and physically do the work of hanging posters, setting out chairs and so on. As general contractor, he has built a conglomerate of buildings from scratch to cover about 2 acres. Paul has been his consultant in making it also a theatrical space. I’m not sure whether he took my observation regarding the repetition of history, as a compliment: Medieval cathedrals being the early home of the Passion Plays and now modern churches converting into production spaces for Christian Theatre. Anyhow, he was gracious.

One evening, we went to see the I Max version of “Avatar”. I had seen it before in 3D Theatre and thought it “awesome”. The I Max version was staggering, so much so that when the film ended after 2 and 1/2 hours, none of us were sure our legs would support our bodies to walk down out of the auditorium. The seats are sloped at about 30 degrees to the screen. The dimensional effect is so real that, at times, one feels the auditorium spinning and the body being flashed through space. We sat reading the credits for about 10 minutes and then, hanging on to railings, staggered out of the theatre. Even 10 minutes later, sitting in the car, it felt as though we had just finished a workout in the Gym. Wow. If this is the opening salvo of a 3D film, I can’t imagine where it will go. It’s as though we can live in dreams.

Friday I met with my old colleague and friend, Roger Zobel, from the Rosco Days in Port Chester, NY, ( 73-79) . He and his wife Pat began a Theatrical Supply business and have been living in Atlanta for nearly 30 years. We always laughed a lot and enjoyed each other’s company because he’s a funny guy and Rosco was a very small company , perhaps 7 or 8 people. Roger’s presently in a wheel chair due to 2 accidental falls which first, broke his hip and then, shattered his femur. We had lunch together and then chatted away the afternoon. I’m pleased to see that his spirit is undaunted and he’s still full of laughter.

After lunch at a local BBQ where I must report the pork sandwich did not compare to Mark’s, I said goodbye to Paul and Sally. I’m extremely impressed how well their lives are ordered and the mastery of the tools they have developed to perform their business.div>

Passing south through Atlanta from Marietta where they live was once again harrowing. Thank God it didn’t last more than 25 miles where , I found myself mostly alone, tooling along at 75.





Valdosta was my destination and a motel 6 in particular. Jeff and Kristina were to meet me tomorrow, somewhere in the Okefenokee Swamp about 50 miles south east of Valdosta. Jeff is Linda’s son, Kristina his fiancée. They will marry in September in New Jersey where Jeff grew up but live and work in Gainesville. FL.