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Art: Horace Pippin
Sunday Morning Breakfast, 1943

Recently I read an interesting piece on a little-known African American artist, Horace Pippin. Art critic Michelle Aldredge wrote about him on her delightfully named blog, Gwarlingo. (“Gwarlingo,” she explains, is Welsh for the moment before the clock strikes.)

Aldredge had been visiting the Barnes collection in Philadelphia when she was startled by a small, powerful painting.

She reports, “Last summer I was strolling through the galleries of the new Barnes Foundation in Philadelphia, surrounded by the exquisite paintings of Matisse, Modigliani, Cézanne, when a small painting of Abraham Lincoln and his father building a log cabin caught my eye. …

“That day in Philadelphia I opened my notebook and wrote the following: ‘HORACE PIPPIN!’ And just so I wouldn’t forget, I underlined Pippin’s name three times. And then I starred it for good measure.

“A descendant of slaves, Horace Pippin’s biography is a compelling one. Here is an excerpt from his Wikipedia entry:

He was born in West Chester, Pennsylvania, and grew up in Goshen, New York. There he attended segregated schools until he was 15, when he went to work to support his ailing mother. As a boy, Horace responded to an art supply company’s advertising contest and won his first set of crayons and a box of watercolors. As a youngster, Pippin made drawings of racehorses and jockeys from Goshen’s celebrated racetrack. Prior to 1917, Pippin variously toiled in a coal yard, in an iron foundry, as a hotel porter and as a used-clothing peddler.

“Pippin enlisted in the army in 1917 and fought in the famous, all-black 369th Infantry regiment in France during World War I. Less than a month before the war ended, he was shot in the right shoulder.

“ ‘When I was a boy I loved to make pictures,’ he once wrote, but war ‘brought out all the art in me. … I can never forget suffering and I will never forget sunsets. So I came home with all of it in my mind and I paint from it today.’ …

“One website on Pennsylvania history describes the evolution of Pippin’s brief career:

After the war, the handicapped Pippin devised a way of supporting his right hand with his left. Using a hot poker to burn in the outlines of his figures and objects onto wood (a technique called pyrography) and then filling them in, he was able to resume painting by the mid-1920s. …

“Words like ‘toiled’ appear frequently in Pippin’s biographies and give some hint at the reverential tone that has been used to describe the artist over the decades. His personal story is so riveting that Melissa Sweet and Jen Bryant have just written a new children’s book about the artist called A Splash of Red. …

“By the time of Pippin’s death in 1946 at the age of 58, he had completed 140-odd paintings, drawings and wood panels. In his obituary in the New York Times they called him the ‘most important Negro painter’ to have appeared in America. …

“Pippin’s paintings are in the tradition of other New-Deal artists like Grant Wood and Thomas Hart Benton, whose murals and canvases depicted ordinary rural life. …

“During his life, Pippin was best known for his landscapes, domestic scenes, and religious paintings. Today, it is his historical scenes showing John Brown and Abraham Lincoln that receive the most attention. (Artist Jacob Lawrence said this his own series on John Brown was inspired by Pippin.) …

“Art critics struggle with Pippin because he does not fit neatly into a category or school. But Pippin didn’t need to buy into some pre-defined idea about what art should or shouldn’t be — he didn’t need to hitch himself to a specific art movement in order to get his work into the public eye. He earned critical acclaim the hard way: by creating outstanding art.

“ ‘Pictures just come to my mind,’ Pippin famously said, ‘and I tell my heart to go ahead.’ ”

More at Gwarlingo, where Aldredge has posted an impressive array of Pippin’s works.

Child-Driven Play

Photo: Abby Oulton 

I’ve written before about outdoor nursery schools and child-directed play. Today we carry the concepts a bit further as Timothy D. Walker writes at the Atlantic about the “junk playground of New York City.”

“ ‘It looks like a dumpster playground,’ my wife told me, as we pushed our double stroller down a hill on Governor’s Island in New York City. ‘Like some slum.’

“In front of us was an area that looked like — to my eyes, at least — an Occupy Wall Street campground, with shoddy constructions of plywood, wooden palates, and blue tarp. I counted 10 children, who were roaming a space about half the size of a soccer field littered with car tires, plastic crates, orange cones, and a sea of unidentifiable debris. …

“In 1943, the first adventure playground (‘junk playground’) was piloted in the city of Copenhagen, Denmark, which was under Nazi occupation. From then on, the concept was embraced around the world, especially in Europe. A professional methodology called ‘playwork’ was established in the United Kingdom, in which trained adults (‘playworkers’) would run these environments. …

“Despite their global popularity, adventure playgrounds have struggled to gain traction in the U.S. … Peter Gray, a psychology research professor at Boston College, wrote in the American Journal of Play that free play — ‘activity that is freely chosen and directed by the participants and undertaken for its own sake’ — has declined over the past half century in America, and he inferred that a high level of parental fear about the safety of children and the rise of ‘adult-directed, school-like activities’ are two of the major causes. …

“On the ferry ride back to Manhattan, I reflected on how four  simple ingredients — junk, tools, physical space, and playworkers — could create such a powerful learning environment, where children appeared to develop their ‘Four Cs’ (communication, collaboration, critical thinking, and creativity) for hours on end. Indeed, these Four Cs were the key ’21st-century skills’ that many American schools strived to sharpen in their students, but at the junk playground, this development seemed to happen rather effortlessly through self-directed play, supported by well-trained playworkers. …

“Not only do I think playworker-run junk playgrounds represent the future of playgrounds, they seem to provide a glimpse into the future of schooling, too. Today, teachers — especially in America — are gravitating toward more active, child-directed pedagogical methods that look similar to what I observed on the junk playground: ‘project-based learning,’ ‘makerspaces,’ and ‘genius hour.’

“Finland, the Nordic nation that’s often praised as a leader in public education, is implementing its newest national core curricula this fall, in which playful learning and developing student agency are emphasized.”

Interesting, no? For me, child-directed play has always been the goal, but at the same time, I’m a safety nut. I suspect that US parents’ focus on increasing the safety of playgrounds may have something to do with the fact that fewer parents are there to watch. Just as monitoring your preschooler on a swimming trip may be something you don’t want to delegate, you may prefer to be nearby when you let your kids experiment with a junk playground.

There is more at the Atlantichere. Hat tip: Taught by Finland, on Facebook.

New England Again

Well, we’re home and adjusting to the time change more easily than when we traveled east. Meanwhile, it occurs to me that I have a bunch of New England photos from both before and after our trip that I want to share. I call the first one “There Will Be Grapes.”

The yellow and white tulips have since died off, but the yard they graced has a floral display that keeps on giving.

My three shadow pictures feature the North Bridge in Concord, Mass., a wildly exuberant dogwood, and a vase of spring flowers.

Two antique child vehicles are on the porch of a home furnishings store.

The life forms by Korean sculptor Jaeok Lee at the Concord Center for the Visual Arts completely captivated me. The artist has written about making the tiny cabinet objects while experiencing health challenges that kept her from other projects.

“The healing quality of nature also motivates my work,” Lee says. “A few years ago, I developed an illness that doctors could not diagnose. While going through various diagnostic tests, since I did not have much energy, I started working with very small objects.

“I would go out to my garden for inspiration and would start to pinch small forms of seeds, pods, berries and flowers. Over the course of one year, I made thousands of small pieces that filled a Chinese medicine cabinet that I bought from an antique shop a few years ago.

“I named the project ‘Making my own medicine.’ The simple act of pinching the forms has been a healing experience that gave me enormous hope for my recovery.”

More at her website, here.

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24 Hours in Oslo

Because we went to Sweden by Norwegian Air, we took a bus back to Oslo to catch our homeward-bound plane, allowing a day for sightseeing in the city first. My husband had been there in the 1960s; I had never been.

As I came out of the bus station wheeling my bag, I saw an activity that I had recently read was occurring in several countries. A barber was giving a haircut to a homeless man. Another man explained to passersby about an effort to raise money for one homeless person at a time. I was so happy to find a good place to unload the rest of my Swedish kroner.

Here are my Oslo photos. Some are self-explanatory, but you might be puzzled if I don’t explain the bubbling water: it kept the eggs hot at our amazing hotel breakfast.

The first of three museums we visited was the Edvard Munch Museum, where the author Karl Ove Knausgaard had curated a show. I love Munch, and although I would have liked some wall text about what was going on in his life when he painted various pictures (a fantastic 2001 show at Boston College did that), I came away with some good ideas for representing the bark of pine trees.

The Nobel Peace Museum had an outdoor mural to free-speech heroes around the world and a moving photography show about Syrian refugees in Lebanon and how they longed for home. The main exhibit felt ironic though, given that Peace Prize recipients have sometimes been tyrants. And this hit me hard: hundreds of prizes, so little peace.

The wall text at the Ibsen museum was great and got me interested in reading more of his plays. The book below is not unique in using Munch cover art. Many Norwegian books use Munch paintings on their covers. He captures something powerfully Norwegian.

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On Sunday we took a boat ride to the Weather Islands in Sweden’s western archipelago, Väderöarna. The drizzle didn’t stop us from enjoying a walk around and eating very fresh cod for lunch. Stuga 40 took all of the pictures seen here but the wooden sign.

We will be thinking about these views as we fly west over the Atlantic.

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It’s going to be an adjustment, not just in terms of time zones. Monday we are off to Oslo and will catch our plane back to Boston from Norway on Tuesday.

Here are a few more Sweden pics.

I love the picturesque seaside streets and cottages, the hidden staircases covered with flowers, the boats in snug harbors, the colorful cabins, and the views.

The last picture is one that Stuga 40 took at 10 p.m. Imagine how light it is in Sweden in June!

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I love the family compound belonging to our hosts, with its birches, lupines, red cottages, and blue doors. Stuga 40 and I took photos there and at the nearby Vitlycke museum, a World Heritage site, where we saw ancient petroglyphs and a Bronze Age garden.

Near the garden were goats chewing their cud and two different kinds of shelters replicating life before 500 BC. It didn’t look luxurious. My photo of  Bronze Age instruments, below, is especially for Modern Age musician Will McC.

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This morning Stuga 40 took us on a walk around breathtaking Veddö. I can take time now to give you only a few pictures as we are headed out again, but you may expect more photos in the days to come. Stuga 40 took the beautiful view of a red house with the harbor behind it.

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Stuga 40 followed an inspired impulse on our way to the Swedish west coast and took a detour to a historic church that she had never visited. Off in the open countryside, the Romanesque Husaby Kyrka was beautiful and serene. We felt like we were discovering it.

I am sharing a few photos, including one showing the tombstones of Queen Estrid and King Olof Skõtkonung, who was said to have been baptized at a nearby spring in 1008 by the English missionary Sigfrid. Olof was the first Christian monarch in Sweden.

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On Thursday we are off to our hosts’ summer place on Sweden’s west coast. So these pictures are probably my last from Stockholm.

A few words on what you see here. Swedish day care is largely outdoors. We loved seeing these adorable groups of toddlers in the park.

Starbucks saves cups for regular customers. Air balloons and decorated buildings are common. Some crocheted objects may have a deep meaning about offering covering to the stranger.

Our hosts have three traditional porcelain fireplaces in their apartment.

The history museum includes an ornate door and a model of an 830 AD Viking ship that was unearthed in 1904. Although no others like it have been found, it has become the image of what everyone thinks of as a typical Viking ship.

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Tuesday we went to Artipelag, a pretty spectacular new museum in the archipelago on the east coast of Sweden. It was built by the founder of Baby Bjorn, with great attention to detail. We liked the wide windows that brought the outdoors in and the way that massive archipelago rocks were kept in place and worked into the design of the rooms.  Below you can see the rock wall in the bathroom, for example, and the rock in the lunchroom with its live candles marching along one edge.

I took some of these pictures, and Stuga 40 took the rest. The current exhibit features the still life paintings of Giorgio Morandi (Italian, 1890-1964) and ceramic pieces made in admiring response by British potter and author Edmund de Waal. (Some people know the latter for the book The Hare with Amber Eyes, a memoir highlighting his family’s netsuke art.) I had not known about Morandi and found his simple, domestic shapes and shadows beautiful.

I should mention that the food at Artipelag was delicious. We had a smörgåsbord buffet, and Stuga 40 made sure we knew how to eat the dishes in the correct Swedish order. I have posted a picture of her friend Anna (in orange) discussing the art with me.

On less wet days, you can have a beautiful walk up and down the Artipelag grounds or tie up your boat at the museum’s dock and climb up for a picnic.

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Good morning.

I’m watching Stockholm from the balcony. A garbage truck came for the trash cans behind the publishing house across the street. At 7, a young man on a bicycle took off his helmet and stowed his bike, came around the iron gate, and went into the front of the building.

People are running along the edge of the park. Soon parents will be rushing their toddlers to day care in the park. A blond woman is walking a small black dog with a curly tail past the Royal Swedish Academy of Letters, History, and Antiquities.

Spring was late here, so after we had enjoyed the tulips and daffodils and lilacs back home, we are getting to enjoy them again in Stockholm. A dad pulls down a branch of white lilacs and lifts his son to smell them.

From where I sit, I can see pink rhododendrons in the park, a red bus picking up passengers, and a man commuting by Segway.

Time to get a refill on tea.

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My hostess knows just the kind of pictures I like. Lots of sunlight and shade. While my husband and I were window shopping in Stockholm today, she went for her seven-mile run and took these photos along the way.

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With the best Swedish tour guides imaginable, Erik’s folks, we saw many Stockholm highlights today, starting with a couple views from their balcony.

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Off to Sweden!

Will blog if I can. Otherwise … see you June 7.