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Posts Tagged ‘philadelphia’

During the cold snap that has gripped much of the nation (and especially the Northeast), in a quiet house nestled in the bucolic quietude of southern Chester County, PA (happily removed from many of the McMansions that have sprouted there recently), one of America’s greatest living artists passed from this world into the next one.  His work was always controversial–in part due to his artistic merit constantly being debated and even debased–but whether you loved his work or hated it, it was part of the cultural conciousness for well over fifty years.

His name was Andrew Wyeth, and he 91 years old at the time of his death in Chadds Ford, PA.

masterbedroom

Master Bedroom, 1965  (source:  NY Times)

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PSA! PSA!

Looking for a nifty gifty that gives back?  Buy a vintage Tide tee to benefit Loads Of Hope, which is a Tide-sponsored truck that provides free laundry service to those affected by natural disasters.

In other words, think of the comfort a whiff of freshly laundered sheets and towels can be to a family in need.

If you’re in Philly and looking for other charities to contribute to during the holidays, Philabundance is the local food bank that is quite amazing, and Project H.O.M.E. is dedicated to getting the homeless out of the streets and into a home and a job. 

And if you can’t give now, give when you can, because charity needs last long beyond November through January.

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We’re in the process of closing up the apartment and getting ready to hit the rails, so posting will be sporadic at best and erratic at worst.  But believe me, come October 13th I will have much to discuss.

Ciao!

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A recent post from Miss Shortcake over at Our Little Haus (for some reason, my browser isn’t allowing me to embed links–her blog is on my roll to the right) reminded me that I completely forgot to post photos that I took during my recent trip back to Pennsylvania on Amtrak–on September 11th, no less.  I was in a bit of a strange mood that day–it was the first time I had gone to Union Station since Monday, and it was so surreal to stand on the platform, watching Metro-North trains pull in and depart and to hear their whistles, a sound I had become so accustomed to hearing over the last year and a half-plus.  Added to that the fact that I can get rather introspective and moody when going down to PA by myself on the train–reminiscent of too many depressing Sunday afternoon/evening rides home after visiting Michael–it was an odd trip home.

Oh, and also that it was the anniversary of September 11th certainly infiltrated my mind as well.

Bookends.

I couldn’t bear to take any shots of my old commute that day–it was just too strange.  But moving along:

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Fuck.  I miss Philly something serious.  And the real premiere is 9.18.

Also, this show is something. 

 

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There’s a new exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art focusing on one of Philadelphia’s local boys, Alexander Calder, and his vast catalog of jewelry that he made over the course of his career.  Though known primarily as a sculptor and as the inventor of the mobile, his jewelry making, just from the few pictures available in this article from NPR, posesses the same modernist spirit with its clean lines yet haphazard juxapositions–found items like seaglass coupled with wire hangers hammered and bent into rings, bracelets, and other body adornments.  Though I’m doubtful that I’ll get into the city to see the exhibit as it was meant to in my hometown, it’s fortunately coming to the Met in New York December 9, so a holiday trip into town seems to be in order.

To give you an idea of what could be in store, this came from the article itself–it’s a ring he made Joan Miro from wire and piece of ceramic:

Le sigh. (more…)

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There was a huge rash of deaths on Monday, between Bo Diddley, Yves Saint Laurent, and Anne D’Harnoncourt, that I feel compelled to write something about it.

–Wait–who was that third person, you ask?  Well, I’ll get to that.

It always makes me sad whenever one mentions the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the first association that comes to mind is “the Rocky movies.”  It also makes me sadder to visit the museum and see countless tourists (and locals alike) try to recreate their own version of the running of the steps, and focus more on posing with the Rocky statue rather than sparing a glimpse for any of the other pieces of art in the vicinity, or for the gorgeous building itself, which has a curious (and brilliant) story behind its construction, as told to Michael and I by one of his cousins (whose dad used to be the head of Fairmount Parks & Recreation under Ed Rendell, so he knows his Park history):

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