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Photo: Melanie Stetson Freeman/CSM.
More Than Words bookshop in Massachusetts uses 100% of its proceeds for training and educating young people ages 16 to 24 in professional skills and goal setting.

My husband and I first encountered the bookshop More Than Words on a movie night. We had been to dinner at one of the many cool restaurants in Waltham, Massachusetts, and were just walking around looking in shop windows until it was time for the movie.

Jacob Posner has written about it at the Christian Science Monitor.

“Jarris Charley says he didn’t believe in jobs when he was growing up on the line between Boston’s Roxbury and Dorchester neighborhoods. The people he knew who had legitimate jobs, including his mom, didn’t find much success. Everyone in his community lived check-to-check and paid rent. The drug dealers were the ones with money.

“ ‘So I was invested in the streets: drugs, guns, robberies. That’s just what I was caught up into at a young age,’ he says. He ended up in juvenile detention at age 15, and in prison for robbery at 23.

“Near the end of a five-year prison term, a second chance arrived. An old manager from a job-training program called More Than Words visited, and asked him, ‘Jarris, why don’t you just come back?’

“More Than Words is a bookstore, but one that does much more than sell bestsellers. The program serves young people ages 16 to 24 who face the highest barriers to building stable lives. Participants face homelessness, are in the foster care system, are out of school, or are involved in the legal system. It gives them job skills, but graduates like Mr. Charley say that the sense of belonging and acceptance – that they matter – is the most valuable thing they take from the program.

“ ‘I like to say we’re in the mattering business,’ says founder Jodi Rosenbaum.

“More Than Words’ support goes beyond job training. There’s a paid ‘on-ramp’ of six to 12 weeks in which the program helps with everything from housing and food costs to making sure participants have suitable work attire. Youth development managers offer support in a range of areas, including future employment, housing, transportation, financial planning, and navigating the legal system. After graduation, young people can access career services and bridge funding for tuition, rent, and child care so they can further their education and training.

“ ‘None of this works if that all doesn’t hang together, right? Like a job training program means nothing if you don’t know where you’re sleeping at night or if you have court the next day, and you don’t have people helping you plan and figure that out,’ says Ms. Rosenbaum.

“More Than Words has grown significantly in its two decades of existence. It started with a 150-square-foot office space where young people sold donated books online. Today, it operates three storefronts in the Boston area. It served around 318 young people last year, who sorted about 4.5 million donated books and earned over $3.8 million in net revenue. Almost all More Than Words graduates go on to earn a high school diploma or equivalent degree, according to the organization’s data. …

“ ‘A lot of people feel that they don’t have a lot going for them or they don’t have a lot of potential,’ says Mr. Charley. ‘We speak life into them.’ That was the case for him.

“For the past three years, he’s been mentoring young people at More Than Words. He works in career services, helping young people in the area that tripped him up the most: getting that first good job after graduating from the program.

“Ms. Rosenbaum founded More Than Words in 2004. She had worked as a public school teacher and for the child welfare system, and became disenchanted with government systems. … Ms. Rosenbaum found that the process of selling a book online had therapeutic value. It has clear steps leading toward a positive outcome: Pick up the book from where it was donated, find out how much it’s worth, package the book, ship it, and then watch money come in. …

“More Than Words Boston, where Mr. Charley works, is located on a street just off Interstate 93 in a postindustrial part of South Boston. … Inside, it’s tidy and spacious. In the front, wooden tables carry rattan cross-body bags and socks with giraffes and penguins. All the merchandise is made by businesses that address social issues as part of their mission. …

“[Mr. Charley] had attended Lexington Minuteman High School. He says there were limited spots at the vocational high school for people from his part of the city. Mr. Charley says he’s grateful for the experience, but felt like he was only appreciated for his athletic prowess. …

“ ‘You don’t think a Black person sees that?’ he adds.

“He left school near the end of his sophomore year after an event involving his cousin, he says. Arrest and juvenile detention followed. Then he found his way to More Than Words.

“ ‘He was the first white man I trusted,’ says Mr. Charley about one of his managers. He always asked when he didn’t understand part of Mr. Charley’s experience – instead of just spouting advice. …

“One of Mr. Charley’s goals is to help his mentees understand their behavior and, ultimately, figure out how to stop doing things that get them into trouble.

“Back when Chris Anderson joined More Than Words, around 2005, he worked directly with Ms. Rosenbaum. He was at a group home in Watertown when he first encountered her.

“ ‘Jodi just kind of walked in one time and we’re all sitting in the living room and she kind of just stood up and said, “Does anybody want a job?” ‘ he says.

“He found ‘a sense of belonging’ while helping Ms. Rosenbaum start her business. Participants were stubborn, got in trouble at school, and didn’t do what they were supposed to do. ‘No matter what, she just kept trying to realign you to get onto that path,’ he says. …

“Today, Mr. Anderson, now in his 30s, is a chief operations officer for a technology company, a father, and sits on the board of More Than Words. And he’s still close with Ms. Rosenbaum.”

More at the Monitor, here.

Photo: Caitlin Babcock/Christian Science Monitor.
Tami Graham, executive director of KSUT Public Radio, in her Ignacio, Colorado, headquarters.

It’s inspiring to see ordinary people trying to fill the gaps left by the withdrawal of government funds. But will it be enough? That is the question for the staff of a small but vital public radio station in Colorado.

Caitlin Babcock wrote in September at the Christian Science Monitor, “Crystal Ashike’s reporting for local radio station KSUT made national news when she broke a story on white vans that were showing up on Navajo land and whisking people away. The photojournalist, who is herself Navajo, uncovered how tribal members were being offered access to treatment for substance abuse, only to end up in fraudulent sober living homes.

“KSUT is an NPR-affiliate radio station that serves five counties and four tribes in southwest Colorado and northwest New Mexico, providing local news like Ms. Ashike’s story. And it’s [losing] nearly a fourth of its funding. ….

“Congress passed a rescissions bill this summer, clawing back nearly $1.1 billion in funding for public broadcasting. [The Corporation for Public Broadcasting], established by Congress in the 1960s, provides a small percentage of funding for NPR and PBS [and] also helps fund local radio stations like KSUT, which are affiliated with NPR and air some of its content alongside their own programming tailored to local communities. …

“[For] this station serving small mountain towns, there’s a lot of uncertainty. And for many in the community, it fills an indispensable role.

“ ‘I think we’d really be in a news desert for anything that mattered to us locally, regionally, if it weren’t for KSUT,’ says Carol Fleischer, a longtime listener.

“KSUT is based in Ignacio, a town of about 1,000 people in southwest Colorado that is also the headquarters of the Southern Ute Indian Tribe. The Southern Ute originally founded the station in 1976 to provide community news and traditional Native American music. At the time, it was one of only eight tribal stations in the country.

“After becoming an NPR affiliate in the 1980s, KSUT now runs two separate signals, with one exclusively dedicated to tribal news. The tribal signal broadcasts from 8 a.m. to midnight every weekday. Its programming is a compilation of news affecting local tribes, traditional music, and talk shows like a weekly broadcast on health issues affecting Indian Country.

“The second signal airs a morning regional newscast, a compilation of the station’s own reporting as well as collaborations with other Colorado stations. They also broadcast programming from NPR and BBC News, plus music handpicked by their DJs.

“During the summer – which in southwest Colorado means fire season – KSUT’s morning host puts together a list of updates on any fires that are burning and how effectively they’re being contained. When necessary, the station broadcasts live emergency and evacuation alerts. The fire season this summer has been a pretty intense one, says Tami Graham, the station’s director, with six active fires in the area.

“For some listeners, radio is the primary or only source for this kind of information. In the mountains and canyons of the KSUT broadcast area, cell service is ‘hit-or-miss,’ as one resident describes it. More than 20% of people in La Plata County lack reliable broadband service, meaning radio may be their only way to receive emergency alerts. …

“Like many stations around the country, KSUT has seen an outpouring of support in the weeks since the CPB announced its shutdown. Members have upped their monthly donations, many listeners are sending money for the first time, and the station has even had funds come in from people far across the country. …

“Even though KSUT doesn’t have immediate plans to cut programming, the funding cuts could damage their broadcasting ability. Early this year, KSUT was awarded a $500,000 grant – administered by the Federal Emergency Management Agency through the CPB – to update the technology that enables emergency alerts. But they never received any of the money. After six months of uncertainty regarding the funds because of a separate issue with FEMA, Congress passed a bill rescinding funding for the CPB, which then informed Ms. Graham that KSUT would have to spend any allotted funds by Sept. 30.

“The station paid $46,000 to buy a needed transmitter and other equipment. Three days later, the CPB told the station it would not be able to reimburse them before the shutdown, and warned them not to purchase any new equipment. …

“Priscilla Precious Collins, a member of what’s known as the Ute Mountain Ute Tribe, says KSUT is ‘one of the pillar sources of information in our community.’ She recalls how the radio was ‘crucial’ in spreading information to tribal communities during the pandemic, such as how to keep tribal elders safe. …

“On a baking hot morning in Durango, one of the biggest towns served by KSUT, 20 local listeners assemble in the dining room of a downtown hotel to share their thoughts on local radio.

“ ‘I was a schoolteacher for 37 years, and I listened to KSUT going to school and coming home,’ says Sweetie Marbury, a former mayor who organized the group. ‘It’s a window to the world for us that live in mountain towns.’ …

“On a recent morning, the KSUT broadcast pauses. ‘We have a very sad announcement,’ says Ms. Graham, the executive director. She tells listeners that one of the station’s DJs has unexpectedly passed away. …

“A listener writes in that afternoon. ‘I send my deepest condolences to you and to everyone there at KSUT,’ she writes, ‘as I know it is not just a business.’ In this woman’s 49 years of listening to KSUT, she says the station has been a ‘lifeboat in an angry sea.’ ”

More at the Monitor, here.

Art: Scott Wilson.

I had a college roommate whose father was an English professor in Colorado. He had a custom of reading Dickens to the family, not phasing out the custom just because the kids grew up. My roommate loved it and always looked forward to being read to when she went home on school vacations.

This is not a common thing, although it was at one time. What it gave people in terms of doing something together while soaking up a good yarn — and sometimes beautiful writing — has never been replaced. With those cadences in your head, you may even learn to write better.

At the Christian Science Monitor, Sherilyn Siy writes, “Every night after dinner, our 14-year-old daughter picks up her Rubik’s Cube, and our 12-year-old son stretches out on the tatami, his head on the beanbag. Our 4-year-old son settles into the crook of my legs, fitting himself into the space formed by my cross-legged seat like a puzzle piece. Story time’s about to start. My husband, who started listening in a couple of years ago, now leans back against the ornate wooden post in our tatami room, stretching out his legs. Then, I pick up our chapter book and continue from where we left off.

“I have always loved reading to my children. When they were younger, reading together was about language exposure, filling their world with the expansive vocabulary that books provide. As a multinational family – American, Filipino, and Chinese – living in the Japanese countryside, we have helped our children stay connected to English through books. I’m not the kind of mom who builds train tracks or towers, but if the kids hand me a storybook, I’ll always read to them.

“I started reading to my children when my oldest was 8 months old. When they were smaller, stories helped them process big emotions, as well as learn new words. We began exploring chapter books when my older kids were about 7 or 8 years old, starting with fun, lighthearted stories before moving on to longer and more complex books. 

“At first, illustrations played a big role in their comprehension and enjoyment of stories. Today, they take pleasure in visualizing scenes through words alone. Now that they’re older, reading together is no longer just about language acquisition; it is about connection.

“I select our books carefully. We reach for classics like Lois Lowry’s The Giver and its sequels, compelling middle grade fiction like Kelly Yang’s Front Desk, and books that simply capture our interest, like William Kamkwamba and Bryan Mealer’s The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind. Sometimes, the choices come from my kids. My daughter read a Japanese translation of Ban This Book, by Alan Gratz, and enjoyed it so much that we read the original English version together. That book became a favorite, not just for the story but for the conversations and inside jokes it sparked.

“In one of our favorite parts, the main characters decided that the best way to hide their banned books was to create fake covers for them. The moment I read aloud some of the ridiculous titles they came up with, the whole family lost it. My kids were doubled over, hands clutching stomachs, as we gasped for air between fits of laughter. 

“Other moments were quieter but just as meaningful. While reading Front Desk, I was deeply moved by a scene in which the immigrant parents of the main character talk after the mother is attacked and then hospitalized. The father, crying, says, ‘I promised when I married you that I’d take care of you, and I’ve failed you.’ I was struck by the depth of his devotion to his wife in the face of the harsh realities of their immigrant life. I couldn’t get the words out. My children knew the words carried something deep for me. …

“The story of a young Chinese immigrant family navigating life in America, as portrayed in Front Desk, felt personal for us – my kids saw reflections of their own identity in it. Although The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind is set in Malawi, we saw striking parallels to Filipino ingenuity and resilience in the face of hardship. David Walliams’ Grandpa’s Great Escape celebrates the wisdom and adventurous spirit of elders, reminding us of the Chinese emphasis on respecting them. …

“We bring all kinds of emotions to the table – frustration, exhaustion, lingering tension from the day. But when we start reading, it’s like tuning in to the same frequency, finding common ground even if we had been at odds just minutes before. The shared experience provides a reset, a neutral space where we can just be together. …

“I hold on to these evenings, these moments when we all gather around the same story. I may not be able to shield my children from every storm that adolescence and life brings, but for a few minutes each day, I can offer them a hearth in a story.” More at the Monitor, here.

I love the mention of the 14-year-old’s Rubik’s Cube. The kids I know often need something to fiddle with while listening to a story.

Photo: Hyla Skoptiz.
The spiral bronze sculptures of Nasher prize-winning Kosovar artist Petrit Halilaj draw inspiration from doodles he saw carved into desks of primary schools across the Balkans. 

Today’s story is about more than an art prize, although that is important in itself. It’s about people uniting against the bad things that happen in the world.

In one instance, the article notes how people came together after ancient Balkan hatreds burned up props for a Kosovo opera. In another we see how funders, sometimes folks under the radar like us, are rising up to protect the independent journalism exemplified by the story itself.

But let’s start with the prize. From Uwa Ede-Osifo at the Dallas Morning News (via KERA in North Texas), we learn about the most recent recipient of an award for excellence in contemporary sculpture.

“Kosovar artist Petrit Halilaj, whose work often contrasts the innocence of youth with the sober realities of war, has been named the winner of the 2027 Nasher Prize.

“At 39, Halilaj is the youngest recipient of the award, according to [an] announcement from the Nasher Sculpture Center.

“In a phone call from his Berlin home, Halilaj said history molds his art. He came of age in Kosovo in the 1990s amid a bloody conflict between ethnic Albanians and Serbians. He was 13 when he and his family, who are Albanian, had their house burned down by Serbian forces.

Later, at a refugee camp, a psychologist encouraged Halilaj to draw his fears and dreams.

“The drawings, among which Halilaj depicted vibrant birds and trees (suggesting a utopia of sorts), would inspire a 2021 exhibition at the Tate St. Ives in England. ‘Whatever we live [through], it makes [us] who we are,’ he said. …

“Other works by Halilaj that recall history and childhood include a series of bronze sculptures based on scribbles found on generations of school children’s desks in the Balkans. These sculptures were shown in 2024 on the roof of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.

“Most recently, Halilaj staged Syrigana, an interdisciplinary opera based on a local legend, in the namesake Kosovar village.

“He learned of his Nasher win shortly after the opera’s June debut. It was a hectic time. A few days before the premiere, several props — ‘months and months of work and preparation’ he said — were set ablaze. They had been stored in locked containers.

“The culprit was not found, but Halilaj suspected the fire was related to Kosovo’s history of ethnic tensions. Still, he was undeterred and rallied a fleet of artists to re-create the destroyed materials. The collective dream we have to bring culture back,’ he said, is ‘way bigger than this attack.’

“Halilaj sees the Nasher Prize as supporting this dream. He plans to use the prize money — $100,000 — to support the Hajde! Foundation, a nonprofit he founded with his sister in 2014 to promote the arts in Kosovo. The organization has provided artists with spaces to present their work and revitalized cultural institutions that fell into disrepair amid the conflict.

“In partnership with Kosovo’s Ministry of Culture, Hajde! has mounted a restoration of an arts center in Halilaj’s hometown. Called the House of Culture, it was a beacon for artists until its closure around the late ‘80s. Halilaj estimates it will reopen in 2027. … Halilaj [wants] to invite both ethnic Albanians and Serbians as well as minority groups into the space.

“Halilaj’s art offers hope, said Carlos Basualdo, director of the Nasher Sculpture Center. ‘Works like this tell you about what art can do,’ Basualdo said, noting it can bring people together.

“In the decade since the Nasher Prize was established, it has become one of the art world’s most prestigious honors. Recent laureates have hailed from countries around the world, including Nigeria (Otobong Nkanga), the U.S. (Senga Nengudi) and Iran (Nairy Baghramian). Winners are selected by a jury of museum directors, curators, art historians and artists. …

“The prize began as an annual award in 2015 before switching to a biennial basis in 2023 to allow recipients more time to collaborate with the museumPlans for programming around Halilaj’s work in 2027 will be announced.” More here.

I don’t usually include all the funders of an article, but today I’m feeling I really want to thank to anyone who contributes to the cost of independent journalism:

“Arts Access is an arts journalism collaboration powered by The Dallas Morning News and KERA. This community-funded journalism initiative is funded by the Better Together Fund, Carol & Don Glendenning, City of Dallas OAC, The University of Texas at Dallas, Communities Foundation of Texas, The Dallas Foundation, Eugene McDermott Foundation, James & Gayle Halperin Foundation, Jennifer & Peter Altabef and The Meadows Foundation. The News and KERA retain full editorial control of Arts Access’ journalism.

Photo: Fahad Shah.
In Srinagar, India, Syed Maqbool Rizvi paints intricate floral patterns on a decorative box made of papier-mâché. The ancient craft is dying out.

In reading about traditional crafts in danger of dying out as its elderly practitioners die, I keep thinking about recent posts on young artists taking crafts in new directions. (Consider the Navajo weaver, here, and the bojagi artist, here.) I wonder if such an evolution can emerge in a politically turbulent place like Kashmir. Ancient decorations now cover more than boxes, but who will take it to the next level? The current popularity belies the unsustainable bottom line for the workers themselves.

Reporting from India for the Christian Science Monitor, Fahad Shah writes, “Papier-mâché dates back hundreds of years in Kashmir. Local folklore credits the 14th century Sufi saint Mir Sayyid Ali Hamadani with bringing the craft to this Himalayan region from Iran, and it flourished under a series of sultans, quickly becoming a symbol of Kashmir’s cultural identity.

“But for a long time, the art form was limited to decorative boxes and other items molded from paper pulp. … These days, the iconic designs popularized by traditional papier-mâché items can be found on bags, leather jackets, and home decor. Artisans apply their intricate designs on unconventional materials like steel, glass, and porcelain, using industrial paints for durability.

“This creative evolution has expanded papier-mâché’s market appeal, with a new generation of clientele emerging – a group that includes interior designers, a local urban bourgeoisie, and international buyers. …

“It’s a relief – of sorts – to the Kashmiri artisans who have watched similar local crafts die out in recent years. To be sure, papier-mâché artisans continue to struggle with low wages and a lack of new talent entering the craft. Yet Hakim Sameer Hamdani, an architectural historian and design director for the Kashmir section of the Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage, says the industry itself is performing better now compared with 20 or 30 years ago. …

“He says, ‘The internet’s role, especially social media and WhatsApp, in design inspiration and market expansion has further driven demand, allowing artisans to reach global buyers directly and removing middlemen.’

“In Srinagar city, Jammu and Kashmir’s summer capital, papier-mâché art adorns the walls and ceilings of everything from Sufi shrines and mosques to homes and hotels. It can also be spotted in the windows of boutiques, where tourists and locals alike browse ornate bags or leather jackets. Mohammad Ismail, a retired educationist in Srinagar who collects papier-mâché art, says artists are always innovating.

“In papier-mâché, ‘the main focus is the design,’ he says, as he leaves a shop with a newly purchased bag. ‘It is the color and the pattern, whether it is on a glass or paper, that is authentic.’

“Around the world, demand for classic papier-mâché designs – applied to modern products – is growing, says Rahul Dhar, founder of e-commerce platform Treasures of Kashmir. He’s been selling Kashmiri handicrafts since 2020, and in the last few years, interest in papier-mâché jewelry has surged on his platform. …

“For artists, customer enthusiasm doesn’t always translate into prosperity. From his home in a historic neighborhood of Srinagar, Syed Maqbool Rizvi paints intricate floral patterns on a decorative box. His day started at 9 a.m. and will end at midnight. Despite having a loyal customer base that he communicates with via WhatsApp, he only earns the equivalent of about $5 for an entire day’s labor.

“The award-winning, seventh-generation papier-mâché artisan will be the last in his family to master the craft. His children – a son and a daughter – have chosen different paths.  

“ ‘There were many families known for this craft, but their children have moved on,’ Mr. Rizvi says. ‘Everyone looks for private jobs these days – who can afford to sit from morning till night for this kind of work?’  

“Government loans during the pandemic helped, he says, but it’s become almost impossible to make ends meet through papier-mâché alone. 

“Historian Bashir Ahmad Maliyar, whose doctoral thesis examined the evolution of Kashmir’s Mughal-era arts, crafts, and trade, says it will take more aggressive interventions to reverse the decline in active artisans.

“Without policies that ensure fair wages, incentivize arts education, and promote the region’s crafts, ‘papier-mâché will vanish within 10 to 20 years,’ he says. ‘People may still practice it in isolated ways, but once the art dies, reviving it will be difficult.’ ”

More at the Monitor, here.

Photo: Taylor Luck.
“The Fardous Bookstore, once under restrictions imposed by the former Assad regime,” says Taylor Luck of the Christian Science Monitor, “now sells previously banned books to eager readers.”

Books are stronger than tyrants. We hold onto that thought. We know from both history and the belief of poets that the time of tyrants has an end. I think Shelley says it best.

“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
“Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
“Nothing beside remains.”

If you don’t see the downfall of the pedestal in your own country at the moment, look toward Syria. Syrians have reason to believe that new tyrants won’t be replacing the hated Assad anytime soon.

After all, books are not being banned by the revolutionary government.

“Post-revolution Syria is becoming a page-turner’s paradise,” wrote Taylor Luck at the Christian Science Monitor recently.

“After years of being banned by the former regime, dozens of long sought-after books are flooding stores across Syria, literally spilling onto the streets. An epicenter of this new literary freedom is the so-called ‘bookshop alley’ in the Halbouni neighborhood of Damascus, a leafy street lined by two dozen bookshops and printers, big and small.

“It is here that Radwan Sharqawi runs the Fardous Bookstore, a small corner shop that his family has owned since 1920. The contrast between today’s Syria and the long period of Assad family rule is like night and day, he says.

“ ‘Before, we had daily interrogations by the security services,’ Mr. Sharqawi says. ‘Now everything is permitted, nothing is banned. Now is a golden era for books!’

For decades, any book written by an intellectual or an artist who had expressed opposition to the Assad regime – or who simply did not vocally toe the official line – was banned.

“So, too, were books that touched on Syrian history from any perspective other than the ruling Baath Party’s revisionist version. Titles on the history of the Israeli-Arab conflict, or anything on the 2011 Arab Spring uprisings, were contraband.

“Islamic thinkers such as Ibn Taymiyya, the influential medieval Sunni jurist and scholar, were banned. So, too, were books by Brotherhood-aligned clerics. … Even a book as basic as a tafsīr, an annotated Quran with explanations and context, was banned, for fear it might contradict the Assad government’s tightly controlled Islamic authorities.

“ ‘These are texts about religion and God, not politics,’ says Abdulkader al-Sarooji, owner of the Ibn Al Qayem bookshop, as a customer browses shelves of leather-bound Islamic books, their titles engraved in decorative golden calligraphy. …

“As soon as the regime fell, Mr. Sarooji began importing books from Turkey and northern Syria to Damascus. Syrians are rushing to snatch up banned titles. …

“ ‘There is demand for banned books because people feel there is a gap in their knowledge, even in their religious knowledge,’ says Mr. Sarooji.

“The most dangerous texts during the Assad era – and the books in highest demand now – are works of literary fiction, titles that draw on the real experiences of Syrians who spent time in jail and suffered abuse at the hands of the regime. The most fiercely banned book was Bayt Khalti, by Ahmed al-Amri, which details the horrors faced by women in the notorious Sednaya prison.

“Now Bayt Khalti is prominently displayed on bookshelves and vendors’ roadside stands across Damascus – in both legitimate editions and blurry knockoffs that feed the high demand.

“ ‘This book was the most dangerous one,’ street-side book vendor Hussein Mohammed says as he waves a copy of Bayt Khalti. ‘If they caught you with this, you were a goner.’

“Another popular banned text, Al Qoqaa, or The Cochlea, details a Christian Syrian’s time in Mr. Assad’s prisons.

“Eyad, a young Damascene, purchased a book of fiction from Mr. Mohammed after spending an hour browsing in the bookshop alley. ‘There are a lot of books that I have wanted to read for years,’ he says.”

More at the Monitor, here.

Photo: Florida Division of Historical Resources.
A 16th century canoe was discovered by a resident of Fort Myers, Florida, when Hurricane Ian made landfall in 2022. 

When I was a kid on Fire Island, a big storm always meant there would be treasures on the sand the next day. We would hurry up the sidewalk to the ocean to see how the beach had reshaped itself and what flotsam and jetsam had washed up. Often the shore was littered with shells, jellyfish, or starfish.

Not that we wish for hurricanes, but extra big storms like that can uncover even larger surprises than starfish.

Richard Luscombe notes at the Guardian, “Florida already claims to be the world capital of golf, shark bites and lightning strikes. Now a remarkable discovery following a devastating hurricane has enhanced its position as a global leader in another distinctive field: ancient canoes – some even prehistoric.

“State archeologists have just completed a painstaking preservation of an ancient wooden canoe discovered by a resident of Fort Myers during the cleanup from Hurricane Ian in 2022.

“It joins 450 other log boats or canoes dating back thousands of years recorded or preserved by the Florida division of historical resources. But this one is unusual, officials say, because it is the first they have seen made of mahogany, and probably the first to originate outside Florida, possibly in the Caribbean.

“The age of the fragile 9ft canoe is under analysis through carbon dating and other scientific processes. Investigators are pursuing a theory that it might be a dugout cayuco crafted by Spanish invaders who settled in the region during the 16th century.

“ ‘We compared it to canoes that we have in our collection and previously recorded, and it’s a very unusual form, so that was the first hint it was not necessarily from Florida,’ said Sam Wilford, Florida’s deputy state archeologist. ‘On the surface there’s tool marks made by iron tools, and we know that that is a historical date because that’s when the Europeans introduced iron tools into the Americas.’ …

“ ‘The tree may have died much earlier than when the canoe was constructed from it. It might have been driftwood, or stored somehow before it was made as a canoe.’

Hurricane Ian caused ‘catastrophic’ damage when it slammed into south-west Florida in September 2022 with 150mph winds and a storm surge of 18ft. The canoe is believed to have been pulled from a riverbed and ended up in the yard of a Fort Myers resident, who discovered it as he cleaned up after the storm and alerted state officials.

“ ‘It had been clearly submerged in water; there’s lots of stain marks on it, [but] it was dry when we received it,’ Wilford said, adding that it was then lightly vacuumed and cleaned with soft brushes, and that each stage of its careful conservation was photographed.

“Florida has had more discoveries of old canoes than any other place in the western hemisphere, and more than 200 separate sites have been recorded, officials said. Many of the canoes were made and used by Native American tribes, including the Miccosukee and Seminole tribes, who inhabited large swathes of the state, particularly the wetlands of the Florida Everglades.

“The oldest, Wilford said, is a canoe discovered near Orlando, estimated to come from the middle Archaic period up to 7,000 years ago.

With about one-fifth of Florida covered by water, the prolific use of canoes by its residents throughout history is unsurprising.

“ ‘It’s because of the environment,’ Wilford said. ‘Native Americans and then later on Europeans needed canoes to get around, and then the wet environment also led to preservation.’

“Canoes collected in the state’s historical resources division are stored in what Wilford said was a central archeological collections facility that is not open to the public. But the department operates an artifact loan program, with 26 canoes currently on display at museums across the US.

“ ‘It’s incredibly exciting,’ Wilford said. ‘Every canoe, and every fragment of a canoe, tells a story, and each one is unique.’ ”

More at the Guardian, here. (Although the Guardian has no paywall, I just upped my random donations to an actual subscription as independent journalism seems especially important in these trying times. Even tiny donations are welcome there.)

Photo: Peter Ellzey.
DY Begay in her weaving studio in Santa Fe, New Mexico, in 2022.

Traditions often gain strength and durability when the spirit behind them is reinterpreted through a new generation’s sensibilities. A case in point: the way the weaving and dyeing of Diné artist DY Begay has enriched a traditional Navajo craft.

Sháńdíín Brown and Zach Feuer at Hyperallergic recently interviewed the artist.

They write, “For over four decades, artist DY Begay expanded the expressive range of Diné (Navajo) weaving, transforming the form into a language that is entirely her own. She is a Diné Asdzą́ą́ (Navajo woman), born to the Tótsohnii (Big Water) clan and born for the Táchii’nii (Red Running into Water/Earth) clan. Her maternal grandfather is of the Tsénjíkiní (Cliff Dweller) clan and her paternal grandfather is of the Áshįįhí (Salt People) clan. 

“Begay is a fifth-generation weaver who was raised in Tsélání (Cottonwood) on the Navajo Nation, where her family’s sheep flock still resides. Rooted in Diné Bikéyah (Navajo homelands) — from the cliffs of Tsélání to the horizon of the Lukachukai Mountains — her work reflects the blended hues of sunsets, mesas, and mountain ranges, while her use of wool from her family’s flock and natural dyes binds her practice to the land she seeks to honor and protect.

“After graduating from Arizona State University in 1979, Begay moved to New Jersey and immersed herself in the fiber art world of New York City. She studied historic Diné textiles at the Museum of the American Indian, whose collections later became part of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian (NMAI). Most of these pieces were created by Diné weavers whose names were not recorded, likely women. She also took inspiration from the work of artists such as Anni Albers, Sheila Hicks, and Lenore Tawney — all of whom trained in modern Western traditions yet studied Indigenous weaving practices. …

“When she returned to Tsélání in 1989, her grandmother, Desbáh Yazzie Nez (1908–2003), saw her weavings and urged her to develop her own compositional sensibility. Begay quickly gained recognition at the Heard Museum Guild Indian Fair and Market as well as the Santa Fe Indian Market, yet she felt restless in her practice. By 1994, that questioning crystallized into a breakthrough: She began developing color hatching, a method of creating subtle gradations and nuanced color interactions that transformed the solid, banded designs of conventional Diné weaving. …

“In August, Begay spoke with us over Zoom from her home in Santa Fe. The interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Sháńdíín Brown and Zach Feuer
“In Sublime Light: Tapestry Art of DY Begay, the first book dedicated to you and your recent retrospective at the NMAI, you write about watching your mother and grandmother weave in the hogan. …

DY Begay
 “I don’t remember the very first time I picked up weaving tools and set a loom on my own. I was very young. I do remember standing behind my mother’s loom, watching her pull colored yarns over and around the warps. Her fingers moved swiftly in and out, pressing the wefts into place. Within minutes, geometric shapes stacked and formed into the outline of a Ganado-style weaving. At that age — maybe four or five — I could not quite comprehend how those shapes came together. I was always perplexed and in awe. Everything happened so fast in front of me as her hands composed lines and rows of colored yarn. 

“I grew up surrounded by weavers: my maternal grandmother, my mother, and my aunts. Someone was always at the loom, often positioned in a very central place inside the hogan. And we lived in the hogan when I was growing up, and everybody else did too.

“I watched my mother create stepped patterns with hand-dyed yarns, moving with precision and grace. Teaching came through showing. It was a physical action. The word that I always remember, and is still used today, is kót’é — ‘like this.’ My mother said ‘kót’é, kót’é.’ …

SB & ZF
“Do you remember the moment when you first began weaving yourself — whether your family set up a loom for you or you started working on theirs?

DB
“I was very curious. I tried to hold my mother’s tools, but they were too big for my hands. … Eventually, she allowed me to sit with her once in a while and said ‘kót’é, kót’é.’ I began to get used to the natural action of tapping with the combs. I was about eight years old when I had my own loom. I don’t remember its size. My mother prepared the warp and I used leftover yarn from her bin. I do remember finishing my first weaving, maybe two colors. It was pretty decent for a first attempt. It was a good learning situation because my mother was there. She would sometimes unweave certain parts and we would go on. …

“Most finished weavings, maybe two by three or three by three feet, and some saddle blankets, were taken by my father and my grandfather to the local trading posts to exchange for food, fabric, or whatever was needed. My mother never went to the trading post herself — we didn’t have a vehicle then, so transportation was by wagon or horses. They would roll up the weavings, pack them, and take them to the trading post. …

“In weaving ‘Pollen Path,’ I wanted to share a cultural belief. Among the Diné, we sprinkle corn pollen to honor a new day, to seek blessings, and to bring balance into our lives. Corn itself is a sacred plant. The pollen is collected in late summer, when the tassels of the corn begin to pollinate. We gather it in the early morning, just before the sun rises. For me, ‘Pollen Path’ reflects peace, beauty, and gratitude for life.

“The project began in the summer of 2007, a very good year for growing plants that I use in dyeing my wool. My sister, Berdina Y. Charley, planted local corn seeds she received from our Táchii’nii (Red Running into Water/Earth) relatives. I believe these were heirloom seeds from our Táchii’nii family. …

SB & ZF
“How do you translate the experience of walking in beauty, through the landscapes of Diné Bikéyah (Navajo Country) and more specifically your home of Tsélani (Cottonwood), into the two-dimensional form of weaving?

DB
“Not only do I have my Tsélani landscape embedded in my mind, but I frequently photograph the surrounding textures at various times of the day to capture different lighting as it reflects on the terrain. …

SB & ZF
“Can you tell us about your color palette and the process of dyeing the wool? Is it essential for you to use and make dyes that are from the earth?

DB
“I have been practicing and experimenting with natural dyes for quite a while, and I love using local plants to create my color palette. It is both essential and traditional in my culture to use what the earth provides to create dyes for our yarn.

“My palette comes from many sources. I work with common plants such as cota (Navajo tea), chamisa, rabbitbrush, and sage. I also use non-native materials like insects, fungi, foods, and flowers. Each has its own season, and I collect plants according to the time of year.

“The process itself is an experiment every time. I’ve studied many dyeing methods and learned to be attentive to formulas that help obtain and preserve the colors. For me, making dyes from the earth is not only practical but also deeply connected to tradition and creativity.”

More at Hyperallergic, here. No paywall. Subscriptions encouraged.

Photo: Suzanne Kreiter/Globe Staff.
Lacey Kohler, Urban Greening Projects co-ordinator and Cristiane Caro, cofounder of Pearl Street Garden Collective, worked in the new microforest in Providence, Rhode Island.

I have posted a lot about Miyawaki urban forests in Massachusetts, thanks to my friend Jean (Biodiversity Builders), who showed me several she’s helped to create. I didn’t know that similar work was afoot in nearby Rhode Island.

These efforts are all about what a dense little forest can give to a city neighborhood where there’s very little nature left. It can remove dangerous carbon from the atmosphere while spreading biodiversity all around, making the city a healthier place for both humans and critters.

Ed Fitzpatrick reports on the Rhode Island venture at the Boston Globe, “The asphalt grid of South Providence is lined with multifamily homes and concrete sidewalks. But along Pearl Street, one lot stands out.

“It’s lush and green, with nearly 270 trees packed into a 1,000-square-foot lot. Officially called the Pearl Street Garden, it contains a tiny forest in the middle of the urban jungle.

“ ‘Microforests’ like this one are cropping up in places ranging from Elizabeth, N.J., to Cambridge, Mass., to Pakistan. South Providence has two, both along Pearl Street, created by Groundwork Rhode Island and the Pearl Street Garden Collective. …

“ ‘This isn’t habitat restoration on the scale that is needed in terms of the world,’ said Jacq Hall, director of special projects at Groundwork Rhode Island … but it is a really great way, especially in a city, for people to become very in close touch with biodiversity and why it’s important and why it’s also beautiful.’

“In May, more than 100 people came out to plant the microforest. …

“The pocket forests adhere to the ‘Miyawaki method’ devised in the 1970s by Japanese botanist Akira Miyawaki, which calls for planting a wide variety of local trees in large numbers and in very tight quarters. …

“Massachusetts now has at least 20 microforests, according to Alexandra Ionescu, a Providence resident who is associate director of regenerative projects at Biodiversity for a Livable Climate, a Cambridge-based nonprofit that promotes ecosystem restoration to address climate change. …

“Rhode Island is the smallest and second most densely populated state in the nation, and a 2022 study found it contains 139 square miles of asphalt, concrete, and other hard surfaces, amounting to 13 percent of its land area. Hall said the benefits of forests and tree-lined streets are not distributed evenly in Rhode Island. …

“[Hall said], ‘We’re trying really hard to go back into those places that have been aggressively paved over and try to work in little bits of nature to bring those benefits to more people.’ …

“Hall said microforests help combat climate change because they grow so quickly. With plants packed close together, they both collaborate and compete for resources, racing to reach the sun first. She said research shows forests grown using the Miyawaki method grow 10 times faster than a traditional landscape planting. …

“Hall said projects such as this received a big boost in funding from the federal Inflation Reduction Act of 2022. ‘It was a historic moment,’ she said. …

“Groundwork Rhode Island and the Pearl Street Garden Collective are now looking for other funding sources” because of federal curbacks.

More at the Globe, here. And if you want to know more, search this site for “Miyawaki.” Or just click here.

Photo: AP Photo/Charles Krupa.
A detail of the 2025 Ig Nobel award, one of many that get awarded by the Annals of Improbable Research magazine for silly sounding scientific discoveries that often have surprisingly practical applications.

If your serious research gets an award for sounding silly, it’s a good idea to put your sense of humor on display and accept the free publicity. That’s what winners of the Ig Nobel have learned to do. Some researchers even hope they’ll be chosen.

Michael Casey writes at the Associated Press, “A team of researchers from Japan wondered if painting cows with zebralike stripes would prevent flies from biting them. Another group from Africa and Europe pondered the types of pizza lizards preferred to eat.

“Those researchers were honored [in September] in Boston with an Ig Nobel, the prize — a hand made model of a human stomach — for comical scientific achievement. In lieu of a big paycheck, each winner was also given a single hand wipe.

“ ‘When I did this experiment, I hoped that I would win the Ig Nobel. It’s my dream. Unbelievable. Just unbelievable,’ said Tomoki Kojima, whose team put tape on Japanese beef cows and then spray painted them with white stripes. Kojima appeared on stage in stripes and was surrounded by his fellow researchers who harassed him with cardboard flies.

“As a result of the paint job, fewer flies were attracted to the cows and they seemed less bothered by the flies. Despite the findings, Kojima admitted it might be a challenge to apply this approach on a large-scale.

“The year’s winners, honored in 10 categories, also include a group from Europe that found drinking alcohol sometimes improves a person’s ability to speak a foreign language and a researcher who studied fingernail growth for decades.

“ ‘Every great discovery ever, at first glance seemed screwy and laughable,’ Marc Abrahams, master of ceremonies and editor of the magazine, said in an email interview ahead of the awards ceremony. …

“The 35th annual Ig Nobel prize ceremony is organized by the Annals of Improbable Research, a digital magazine that highlights research that makes people laugh and then think. It’s usually held weeks before the actual Nobel Prizes are announced.

“The ceremony to celebrate winners [began] with a longtime tradition: the audience pelting the stage with paper airplanes. Several of those who couldn’t attend had their speeches read by actual Nobel laureates including Esther Duflo, who won the Nobel Prize for her experimental approach to alleviating global poverty.

“There was also a mini-opera about gastroenterologists and their patients, inspired by this year’s theme which is digestion. …

“There was also a section called the 24-second lecture where top researchers explain their work in 24 seconds. Among them was … Trisha Pasricha, who explained her work studying smartphone use on the toilet and the potential risk for hemorrhoids.

“When any winner appeared to be rambling on too long, a man wearing a dress over his suit would appear at their side and repeatedly yell, ‘Please stop. I’m bored.’

“Other winners this year included … a team of international scientists that looked at whether giving alcohol to bats impaired their ability to fly.

“ ‘It’s a great honor for us,” said Francisco Sanchez, one of the researchers from Colombia who studied the drunken bats. ‘It’s really good. You can see that scientists are not really square and super serious and can have some fun while showing interesting science.’

“Sanchez said their research found that the bats weren’t fans of rotten fruit, which often has higher concentrations of alcohol. Maybe for good reason. When they were forced to eat it, their flying and echolocation suffered, he said. …

“Among the most animated of the winners was a team of researchers from several European countries who studied the physics of pasta sauce. One of the researchers wore a cook’s outfit with a fake mustache to accept the award while another dressed as a big ball of mozzarella cheese got pummeled by several people holding wooden cookware. They ended by handing out bowls of pasta to the Nobel laureates.”

More at AP, here. Fun pictures.

Photo: Charlie Rubin/Kasmin, New York.
An example of sculpture by Alma Allen, ‘Not Yet Titled‘ (2024). He is the artist chosen by a conservative art group to represent the US in the 61st Venice Biennale.

With all the sinister goings-on in the world, you might think that something strange in the art world would be the least of our worries. But this creepy story really got under my skin, and I’m wondering what the artists among you have to say about it.

Ben Davis reports at Artnet that the administration “has picked its artist for the 61st Venice Biennale. After months of speculation and much confusion, the artist to represent the U.S. will be Mexico-based sculptor Alma Allen, in a pavilion organized by curator Jeffrey Uslip. The sponsor is the American Arts Conservancy (AAC).

“But what is this organization, now vaulted front and center of the international art conversation, which no one I know has ever heard of? I was perplexed. So I took a spin around the internet to get a sense of what its chops were. Here are some observations.

“If no one has heard of the Tampa-based AAC, this is because it was founded only in July of this year. The press release is so poorly edited that it repeats the same quote by executive director Jenni Parido twice.

“The fact that this gaffe stands, four months later, as AAC takes on the most high-profile job in the arts, might put into question their professionalism in organizing a major international art exhibition. …

“Parido is an enigma on the art scene. According to her LinkedIn, her primary work experience is as the founder of Feed Pet Purveyor, a Tampa vendor specializing in natural foods for pets, which she ran from 2014 to 2023. …

“Frank Bardonaro was named president of the AAC board of directors in late August; he’s the CEO of the Houston-based Brock Group, a conglomerate that provides scaffolding, insulation, and the like for industrial and commercial customers. John Mocker, who serves as board secretary, is head of a pipe distributor, LB Industries.

“Mocker distinguishes himself as arty in this company because his biography identifies him as a collector of ‘American and international art.’ I’m interested! All I was able to find out, though, was that he also had a bit part in the unknown 2024 Abigail Breslin feature Chapter 51 directed by photographer Tyler Shields. …

“Ryan Coyne joined the AAC board as treasurer in September. He is best-known for running Starboard, a digital marketing, media, and government relations business. Among other things, it owns BizPac Review, which promises ‘breaking news and analysis unfiltered by the liberal bias that has eroded the media’s credibility.’ Starboard is probably best known for purchasing Parler, the right-wing Twitter clone, in 2023. Coyne also runs We the People Wine, ‘America’s Favorite Patriotic Wine.’

“Finally, AAC vice president Janet Steinger is a socialite married to superstar Palm Beach personal-injury lawyer Michael Steinger. …

“ ‘The Conservancy brings together a national network of curators, scholars, educators, artists, and patrons who believe in the transformative power of the arts,’ AAC boasted when it launched. Let’s take a look at what that means. The advisory board includes: curator Jeffrey Uslip, who is helming the Alma Allen pavilion in Venice, socialite Mackenzie Brumberg, socialite Nicola Verses … Nicole McGraw, a Palm Beach art dealer and former CEO of Jupiter NFT Group [now] ambassador to Croatia … artist Brendan Murphy, who made a diamond-encrusted spaceman sculpture for a Four Seasons in Riyadh … photographer, artist, and Web3 entrepreneur Brandon Ralph. …

“One name on the advisory board list, Madison Wright, remains an unknown, as the AAC site does not identify or provide links for its advisory board, just names. ‘Mathew Taylor’ and ‘Michelle Taylor’ are also listed. ‘Mathew’ seems to be a misspelling of ‘Matthew.’ It probably refers to a filmmaker who goes by both M.A. Taylor and Matthew Taylor, depending on whether he is directing films about conservative politics or art. He has directed both Marcel Duchamp: The Art of the Possible (2019), about the famed father of conceptual art, and Government Gangsters (2024) [about] Kash Patel‘s book about a deep state conspiracy. …

“The other big initiative AAC is pushing is the ‘Passport to Patriotism: America 250’ exhibition, which it says will happen next year. ‘Children ages 5–15 are invited to submit original works that express what patriotism means to them,’ for possible inclusion. …

“The ‘children’s art’ used to illustrate the contest has the hallmarks of very bland A.I., including [one] where Lady Liberty has six fingers, and the stripes on the flag inexplicably flip colors. …

“A bare-bones official website for the U.S. pavilion now exists. On Instagram and Facebook, AAC posted a short statement about the vision of the show.”

Maybe I read too many murder mysteries, but the thin online presence of these entities sure do suggest the shell companies I’m currently reading about in a novel by Richard Osman.

More at Artnet, here.

Photo: Emily Mesner/Anchorage Daily News.
Lenora Ward, general manager at KOTZ radio station, listens to a 2022 dog-sled musher interview while on-air at the station in Kotzebue.

Few places in the US rely more heavily on public radio than Alaska. That is why people who care about Alaska rushed to bridge the gap after the current Congress decided public radio is not needed.

Iris Samuels reports for the Anchorage Daily News, “An Alaska fund has raised $3.5 million as it seeks to replace federal funding rescinded by Congress for public radio and television stations.

“Amid fundraising efforts, station leaders say they are already beginning to cut some programming. …

“Congress in July voted to rescind $1 billion in federal funding for public media across the country. … Two of Alaska’s three-member congressional delegation voted in favor of the rescission, which eliminated roughly $15 million intended for more than two dozen stations in Alaska. …

“Sen. Lisa Murkowski was one of a few Republicans in Congress who attempted to salvage the federal funding that Congress members themselves had approved last year, pointing to its importance in alerting Alaskans to natural hazards like tsunamis, earthquakes and fires.

“In a recent call hosted by a coalition of Alaska public radio and television stations, PBS President Paula Kerger said that Alaska is at the forefront of national fundraising efforts intended to — at least temporarily — supplant federal funding with money from private donors and foundations. …

“Kerger said she was ‘deeply grateful to Sen. Murkowski, who really fought for us more than any other member of Congress.’

Alaska stations banded together in the days following the July rescission vote to, with the Alaska Community Foundation, establish the Voices Across Alaska Fund, which in its first two months raised more than $3.5 million.

“The funds came from 80 donors, which include individuals, corporations and foundations in Alaska and in the Lower 48, according to Alaska Community Foundation spokesperson Ashley Ellingson. The funds will be disbursed to stations [based] on stations’ needs, Ellingson said. …

“Alaska Public Media President Ed Ulman said that since the rescission, new donors have begun giving, or existing donors have upped their contributions. …

“Funds will be distributed to Alaska stations, which are also independently fundraising, several station managers said in recent days. Even as they have pivoted to fundraising efforts, the station managers reported making several targeted cuts to their programming in response to the loss of federal funding.

“Alaska Public Media, the state’s largest public station, has paused Alaska Insight, a television news program that was broadcast across the state. Ulman said Alaska Public Media has also cut its education programming and is considering cutting Debate for the State, a program that features candidate forums for statewide offices. …

“Gretchen Gordon, general manager of KUAC, a station serving Interior Alaska, said the station has cut overnight broadcasting, eliminated some national radio programs and lost television service in Nenana in response to the federal funding cut. Gordon said KUAC is ‘determined to find ways to restore lost programs and services.’

“Kristin Hall, general manager at KYUK, which serves Bethel and the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta, said the station lost $1.2 million in federal funding, and could eliminate more than half its staff by the end of the calendar year.

“Justin Shoman, president and general manager of KTOO, said the Juneau-based station may need to adjust its coverage of the Legislature. Gavel Alaska, a live-streaming service for legislative hearings, press conferences and trial hearings, costs more than $1 million annually to run and receives no state funding, Shoman said. Until the rescission, federal funding made up more than a third of KTOO’s annual budget. …

“The federal funding cut comes after a yearslong refusal by Gov. Mike Dunleavy to spend state dollars on public media. Starting in his first year as governor, he repeatedly vetoed funding intended for public radio stations. This year, the Legislature did not fund the grants for public radio in the budget. …

“ ‘It’s not lost on many of us that the Legislature has every single year put in funding, in particular for rural public radio,’ said Ulman. ‘And yet, there is one individual who has the power of the veto who exercises that veto and goes against — I’m just going to say it — the will of the people.’

“When Begich, Alaska’s lone U.S. House member, voted in June to claw back federal funding for public media, he reasoned that public broadcasting was no longer essential because Alaskans now use ‘pervasive cellular, satellite, and wireline technologies.’

“But Gordon, with KUAC, said many Interior residents do not have access to broadband internet. … ‘Our lawmakers need to understand that a little better,’ she said.”

Will the new fundraising levels last? Only time will tell. More at the Anchorage Daily News, here. And do read about how an Alaska public radio station saves lives, here.

Photo: John and Suzanne’s Mom.
Chunghie Lee‘s bojagi style “No-Name Women Paper DuRuMaGill”: photo images silk-screen-printed on Korean mulberry paper dyed with ground oriental ink stick. At Lexington Arts in Massachusetts.

My friend Ann, the textile artist, put me on to a new/ancient type of quilting and fabric art. It’s from Korea and it’s called bojagi.

According to the websit for Beyond Above Publications, “Bojagi (Bo-Jah-ki), or wrapping cloth, is the ancient Korean folk tradition of making pieced textiles for both everyday and ceremonial use. Originally made by anonymous housewives to fulfill a practical need along with an artistic impulse, Bojagi and its techniques have recently gained attention outside of Korea due to the increasing interest in the value of handmade items, as well the use of recycled materials and the politics of sustainability in textiles and contemporary art.”

I would never know about this type of thing, but Ann is on every email list imaginable for textile art in Greater Boston and beyond. So one day I headed over to Lexington Arts and Crafts to see contemporary bojagi by artist Chunghie Lee.

Apart from appreciating Lee’s skillful needlework, I was struck by her use of sustainable materials: previously used fabrics, mulberry paper, and ground-up ink sticks for red and black dyes. Especially moving was her focus on “no-name women,” the anonymous people behind this technique to make scraps of cloth go far. Women unknown and unappreciated.

You have to look closely to see them. Lee brings them into her work with silk screens of old-time photos, barely visible. Which is why for this piece I am showing you only a close-up.

Close-up of silk bojagi “no-name women” piecework by Chunghie Lee.

Here is more detail from the publishing company Lee founded with Jiyoung Chung, a visual artist inspired by the Joomchi papermaking tradition.

“From traditional women’s work to contemporary sustainable textiles, bojagi works include delicately pieced and hand-stitched traditional bojagi, reinterpreted bojagi, wearable pieces, installations, and wall hangings.

This uniquely Korean art form made by anonymous ancestors has evolved from functional works into a contemporary art form that is embraced worldwide.

“Since the late 14th century, every household, from the royal palace to the thatched-roof hut in a mountain village, has found these wrapping cloths indispensable. The tradition of making and using bojagi was established during the Josun Dynasty (1392 – 1910), when women were restricted from leaving their households. To spend the long, tedious hours of the day, girls were taught to sew at age ten, and needlework became a big part of their lives as they moved into  adulthood. This folk art tradition was the only escape from the sequestered lifestyle of Korean women, and provided them with an artistic outlet for creative expression.”

Chunghie Lee adds, “I see this patchwork as a metaphor for human life. We may feel ourselves to be as random pieces of fabric, alone and without meaning, but God’s hand places us together in a beautiful composition, which has great harmony and meaning. As artists of all nationalities, generations and heritages, we discover we are all alike, and have been saving and making beautiful things with discarded fabric and other materials. In the eyes of artists, fabric scraps can be transformed and repurposed to fulfill the design and vision of the creator.”

More on bojagi at the website for publishing company Beyond Above, here. Follow Lee on Facebook, here.

Below, Chunghie Lee’s contemporary version of Korean piecework, followed by her careful stitching for “No-name Woman with Head Covering.”

Photo: Sam Frost/The Guardian.
Loz Samuels, creative director of the tiny Theatre of Small Convenience, believes that in the digital age it is ‘really important’ to keep places like this alive. 

People care about having the arts in their lives. It’s not all about big donors wanting to show themselves in designer clothes at a charity ball. Although they are needed, too.

It’s mostly about the audience.

Jessica Murray writes at the Guardian about how a threatened UK theater, housed in what was once a Victorian public toilet, was brought back to life.

“Perched on a sign above a tiny stage draped with red velvet curtains are the Latin words Multum in parvo. Meaning ‘much in little,’ it has become the motto of this minuscule establishment in the Worcestershire town of Malvern.

“This is the world’s smallest commercial theater, with room for 12 people – or 16 with some standing – that has been brought back to life by local residents after falling into disrepair and at risk of demolition.

“Called the Theatre of Small Convenience, it was once a Victorian toilet and measures just [108 square feet] – the stage itself is a snug [16 square feet].

“ ‘Places like this are so rare now,’ said Loz Samuels, the theatre’s creative director and co-founder of the community interest company which runs it. …

“The theatre was created in 1997 by Dennis Neale, described as a local legend and eccentric performer who spent 19 years putting on puppetry shows in the space that captivated local children. In its heyday it was a much-loved and unique claim to fame for Malvern, with the theatre entering the Guinness World Records in 2002.

“But after Neale’s retirement in 2017, the building fell into disrepair and was badly damaged by a fire caused by a dehumidifier. With a destroyed roof, damp floor and damaged walls, local residents began to fear it would be lost for ever, especially with talk of a development next door. …

“Along with local volunteers Jan Birtle and Dibah Farooqui, [the community interest company] acquired the building from the council and raised [$22,000] from the local community to help get the renovation off the ground.

“ ‘It needs replastering, it needed rewiring, it needed a new floor, it needed underfloor heating. There’s obviously no room for heaters,’ Samuels said. …

“The theatre’s deep blue walls are adorned with a vivid gold constellation – with stars ‘sponsored’ by local residents – while intricate wooden carvings frame the stage.

“The challenge hasn’t been plain sailing, and Samuels has fears for the long-term future of the theatre. The team were recently rejected for Arts Council funding, and … with just 12 seats, making the space financially viable will take some creative thinking.

“Set to open its doors in October [2025], the theatre’s first show is Sceptre, a seance-themed immersive show designed specifically for the space. There are plans for a Narnia-style Christmas grotto and even weddings in the future.

“ ‘It is a challenge to find work that fits in here,’ she said. ‘But I feel like the building creates opportunities, you’ve just got to be imaginative. You can make real sensory experiences because you can control the light. As soon as you step foot in here, you forget the world outside, you could be anywhere.’

“Neale, who still lives locally, has also given the project his blessing and recorded a message that will be played at the start of future performances.

“ ‘I think what he did is so quintessentially English and so special,’ Samuels said. ‘He’s really happy, although I think at first he was a bit like, Who is this crazy woman?  …

“Samuels is urging performers and artists with original ideas for the space to come forward, and despite some nervousness, is optimistic for the future of the venue.

“ ‘I feel like it’s a strangely magical place and I just believe that the universe will look after it somehow,’ she said.”

More at the Guardian, here. No paywall.