Vladimir Kagan's Blog

A Visit to Worms, Germany

 

A Sentimental Journey Home

Copyright Vladimir Kagan May 28, 2012

The Heraldic Seal of Worm

 

1630 Map of Worms - the city where we was born

 

Home is where the heart is... It is amazing to say that Worms in Germany is still where a part of my heart resides... I was born there nearly 85 years ago... A medieval city nestled on the shores of the River Rhine, where Martin Luther stood in 1521 defying Pope and Kaiser with his famous Edict of Worms. Where the esteemed 11^th century Jewish scholar, Rabbi Rashi, held sway – It is home to one of the finest examples of early Romanesque architecture in Europe: St. Peter’s Cathedral - the Dom, Built in 1130 – 1181 and totally restored after the war. Worms is home to Germany's oldest (resurrected) Synagogue*, originally built in the 13^th century…It is home to the fabled Nibelungen Saga – “Das Rheingold”, which inspired Wagner’s Ring Series. Worms is nestled amongst unassuming flat lands that are home to Germany's finest vineyards. Worms was also home to many, many decent people (some, who cared for my family in time of need) and it was home to its abundant share of brutal Nazis. Like Dresden, the allies bombed the heck out of it and left 90% of it in rubbles.  Miraculously, most important landmarks, though severely damaged, survived and have been carefully restored. It is home to 83,000 people… And some sixty years later, my sister and I have met up with old classmates and folks who remembered our parents!

    *The original Synagogue in Worms was the oldest in all Geermany - built in 1234 – It was totally     demolished by the Nazis during the infamous Kristallnacht in 1939 - just months after we migrated to     America. The commune of Worms rebuilt it after the war. Jews in Worms date back to Roman times –     they came as merchants and settled in Mainz, Speyer and Worms. Today, Worms hasn’t enough Jews     to make a ”minion” the twelve people required for an Orthodox service.

     **There are people today, who cannot be reconciled to the fact that an entire nation can go Rogue…     Everyone knew of Hitler’s final solution for the Jews ‘Die Endlösung’. That the death-camps of Belsen     and Auschwitz were a fact known to all Germans. That the Holocaust was no secret. These people     would have preferred to leave the Synagogues in rubble as a permanent monument to the atrocities of     the Third Reich.

 

This was my third pilgrimage home; for my sister Tanya, it was only the second in forty years (after a brief two hour stop-over back in 1949).. It was an emotional decision for her. Was the reception going to be hostile?  It took five years of cajoling to convince her to make this journey. Tanya travels with an entourage - her ailing husband (whom she can not leave alone) a young woman caretaker, a driver and of course - me. The five of us, set off in a well-appointed Mercedes Van on our “mad-cap” adventure.

Our trip started and ended in Geneva Switzerland. To break-up a long journey, (560 km), we made some amusing stops along the way: A brief visit to the Kagan Club in Freiburg and our first overnight stop in Baden Baden . (I have described the drive in a sister article: IMPRESSIONS ALONG THE ROAD TO WORMS)

We arrived in Worms late afternoon with a thunderstorm rumbling in the distance. The city seemed smaller and more claustrophobic than we remembered... distances that were an eternity, walking on our small legs, now were only “ a hop, skip and a jump” from where we lived on Obermarkt 12. Coincidentally, our Hotel “Dom” was located right next to our old house, which had been bombed and rebuilt. The hotel was touted to be the best available in Worms; by our spoiled standards, it turned out to be more a mixture of a college dorm and a Monk’s retreat. (Years earlier I stayed in an active Monastery serving as a Hotel in Cologne). Our accommodations were very reminiscent: neat – efficient – minimal – spotlessly clean. The hotel had only one visible employee… the friendly receptionist – no porters, room service or the usual accoutrements that go with a modern luxury hotel. It did, however, serve the most delicious German breakfast complete with smoked salmon a wide selection of “wurscht – (sausages) und schinken”, cheese and crusty breads and pastries.

The square where we lived was now filled with trendy cafés, trattorias and gelato-parlors complete with umbrellas and outdoor seating replacing the food stalls that we remembered as children. Our greatest disappointment was the closure of the Cafe Lott, a landmark that had survived the Nazis, the war and the turmoil of another 60 years... The owner decided to call it quits last New Year’s Eve.

 

This is Obermarkt 12 - the house that replaced our home, complete with the residence built over the entrance to the courtyard leading to my father's workshop and Art Gallery. (the original was destroyed in an Allied bombing back in the 40s.)

  

The view from our hotel room looking at the outdoor cafes that have replaced the market stalls of sixty years ago - normally is is a-buzz with young people enjoying an afternoon "kaffeklatsch"... ) I must have taken this photo very early)

   

For our first night’s dinner, we chose to go down to the Rhine; surely we’d find a suitable restaurant... and indeed we did. In the drenching rain, we stumbled into the Kolbe Brauhaus, a building dating from the 1800s that survived the bombs. Low ceilinged, filled with cheerful drinking patrons… we skulked in, somewhat hesitantly, and were given seating in a small dining room in the rear. Germans, with a few good beers in their bellies, become a noisy bunch… the ten people on the other table were no exception. Tanya was instinctively apprehensive “Do you think that they are friendly?” I assured her that they were. As the evening progressed, our neighbors became quieter and more interested in our little strange entourage; we spoke, English, German and Portuguese.  “Und where are you from”, they asked in German – They were amazed when I said “Worms!” This naturally opened up a lively cross-table conversation. One of the men introduced himself as Jean Frank, a retired judge who turned out to be a good friend of my friend, Elke Scheiner, who also happened to be a retired judge. By the end of evening, we were all close friends, drinking to each other’s health in three languages with good German beer.

Worms as seen from the Rhein with the tower of the Nibelungen Bridge in the foreground and the Dom in the distance... to the right of the bridge is the Kolbe Brauhaus, where we had our jovial dinner

 

My old school pal from 1932, Heinz Meisenzahl and I enjoying a morning coffee chat

The next day we started our tightly scheduled 36 hours in Worms with a hardy breakfast in our hotel. Elke, the perfect organizer, produced Ulrike Schäfer, from the Wormser Zeitung, the local newspaper, to interview us. There was Dr. Jörg Koch, the head of the Europa Union and a local historian, who full of interesting Worms history… as a surprise present, he brought me a photo of myself as a two year old ‘Cossack Cowboy’, riding a wooden horse that my father had built for me. The photo was signed: “Photo by Giesen”. (The next day, we met the photographer’s daughter, Ursula Orth-Giesen, who came to greet us in a wheelchair.) She was charming, bright, and still beautiful - deep in her eighties. Our initial welcoming party included my classmate from 2nd grade (1932) Heinz Meisenzahl and his wife Sybille; Heinz is a tall robust, giant, who greeted me with a huge bear hug. Willi Johannes and his wife Regina, one of our beer-drinking friends of the night before came to escort us around town and stayed with us for two days. There were other dignitaries and just plain folks with connections to my family. By lunchtime, our small group expanded to over a dozen happy people. It was a family reunion… Baerbel Miller, who migrated to Denver back in the sixties, had moved back to Worms to take care of her aging mother, 99 years old and still in great form with a vivid memory: she remembered my parents and my Father’s store “Kunsthaus Kagan”. (Baerbel had written down her mother’s ramblings, all of which turned out to be accurate.) Her family and mine were friends. They came and brought food baskets late at night, at great peril to themselves, in defiance of the Nazi’s ruling that there was to be no intermingling between Aryans and Jews. Barbara Wand joined our table and brought photographs of a Silver cigarette box her parents bought from my father’s store. (An excellent example of post-war German modernism from the Deutche Werstatt... (It was a tribute to my father’s amazing avant-garde taste.)

 

Me... age two riding on my rocking horse which was made by my father - This photo was a present from Dr. Jörg Koch, a history professor

Our delightful lunch on the Rhine with new and old friends

Baerbel Miller with her 99 year mother (Renate Bayer is looking over their shoulders) - Me joking with Renate - I threatened to move in with her and her face tells it all! I think that her response was "God Forgive!"

The silver Cigarette Box purchases from my father's store back in the 30's by the parents of Barbara Wand

There are many, many sights In Worms to entice the visitor. In our short stay we visited the Dom, The Synagogue, the Jewish Cemetery: (It took good Christian custodians to preserve it through the Hitler years) and Traudel Mattes, our non-Jewish guide to read the Hebrew inscriptions… (Very touching).  The Martin Luther Statue was a must stop - the Rhine bridge (that both of us remembered crossing on foot as children with our parents), the famous wine estate of the Valckenberg, (The Valckenberg were great friends of my parents in the 30s. I have a vague recollection sipping wine through a rubber tasting tube in their Caves. Their world-famous Liebfrauenmilch put Germany back on the map after the war).

 

The only TRUE Liebfrauermilch, still produced in Worms by the Valkenberg family

Ursula Orth-Giesen having a laugh while looking at instant photos taken by Elke Scheiner, with the Lord-Mayor and me looking on

I did a nostalgic visit to the Dom and stood in solitude listening to the six o’clock ‘Glockenspiel’ that seemed to last an eternity. We all visited the restored Rashi Synagogue the next day, Regina Johannes, was so moved by the experience that she sang “Amazing Grace” in the empty cavernous space. Her beautiful voice resonated in the superb acoustics of this ancient building. Equally heart-warming was our visit to the ancient Jewish Cemetery, "Heiliger Sand" where there are over 3,000 graves, the oldest dating back to 1100. Attesting to the long history of the Jews in Worms. They came with the Romans and stayed.

 

Our wonderful guide, Traudel Mattes, dressed in a Jewish woman's dress and turban worn back in the 16th Century -

Tanya and I posing in a fabled indent in the Synagogue wall, a reputed miracle that happened when a pregnant woman was walking the street and a cart came careening down the narrow street and the wall gave way.

The stark and dimly lit Synagogue interior - a beautiful example of the simplicity of medieval architecture

Women were not allowed to sit with the men in the main Synagogue and had a separate wing of their own

The 1000 year old Jewish cemitary  called The "Heilger Sand" where over 3,000 people are burried. 

Our entourage at the cemetary looking at the oldest grave dating from 1100 AD. 

Frome left to right: Regina Johannes, Elke Scheiner, Tanya, Willi Johannes, Dr. Hanna Karaka, me, Albano (our great driver) and Traudel Mattes

 

Tanya and me at our "official luncheon" with the Lord-Mayor of Worms - Michael Kissel, a friend of seven years ago

 

The giant, Volker Gallé with the two diminutive Kagan "kids" - Gallé is the Art Coordinator for Worms

 

"the boys" Heinz Meisenzahl , Vladimir and Gerhard Holzer having a chat at the Hagen Statue which celebrates Siegfried tossing the Rheingold into the river. 

 

Tanya and me with the Lord-Mayor Kissel

St. Peter's Cathedral, the beautiful early Romanesque Dom restored after severe damage in the last war. I love the strong simplicity of the arches and the domed ceiling

Tanya and me at the Martin Luther Monument... (my sister has a baby photo of both of standing in the same location  80 years earlier!) This strong modern monument was built in 1868 by Ernest Rietschel, a celebrated sculptor of the time

The War Memorial, built in the 30's to honor the dead of the First World War. (We remembered it well from our childhood and were duly frightened.)

 

The next day, our triumphant return was celebrated with a small official luncheon hosted by the Lord-Mayor of Worms, Michael Kissel. (I had met and befriended him seven years earlier)… it was a reunion of old friends. Another guest at our small gathering was Volker Gallé, the official art coordinator for Worms – (he looks every inch the part). My sister’s friend, Hana Karaka, who grew up in the neighboring city of Mannheim, flew in from Geneva, to join us for the weekend. (Hana is a heart surgeon, who saved Tanya’s life two years earlier). Mayor Kissel offered her the position of Head Doctor at the Worms Hospital… (she gracefully declined.) Michael drove me through the town and its suburbs, showing me the progress his administration had achieved during his first seven-year tenure. (He was recently re-elected to another seven-years. The city is fortunately to have such a jovial and efficient administrator). In the car, we discussed my inner feelings about the hidden casualties of the war: While my American contemporaries can proudly produce dusty photo albums of themselves and friends, brimming with smiles and laughter, posing in elegant new uniforms, or draped on the wing of their victorious bombers, my German friends, who also served in the war, have to hide this memorabilia in fear that it might give the wrong “body-language” and appear to be in praise of the past. (I escaped military service… just lucky timing). Heinz, a year older than I. at age 17 was drafted into the SS… the most notorious service of the German Reich… No choice. He managed to survive by eluding Gestapo agents looking for deserters and escaped into the hands of the American troop. There are thousand of similar stories and only one on one friendship’s can wipe out these deep wounds.

 

Our visit to Worms was a revelation for my sister Tanya, who came with apprehensions and left with deep affection for all the wonderful people who made our short stay so memorable… Tanya and I have resolved to make this an annual “return of the natives”.

 

 

A road trip through Switzerland and Germany

Impressions on the Road to Worms

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, May 20, 2012

 

A 1,100-kilometer road trip is not your every day venue, especially when you are traveling with an entourage that included a ninety-three year old gentleman with dementia, two old dodders in their eighties (my sister, Tanya and I) a driver and caretaker… additionally…I still needed to convince my recalcitrant sister, that this was going to be an OK trip. Our destination was Worms am Rhine in Germany, where both of us were born.

I had spent many hours on Google plotting routs, layovers, points of interest and our overnight stays. This had to be a well-planned pilgrimage - it took weeks to get it accepted. On the day of our departure, I had to delay the morning exodus for a business meeting that lasted till noon… by then it was time for the obligatory sit-down lunch… We finally set off at 2 PM - for the first 300 kilometers of our trip.

 

Leaving Geneva on a sunny afternoon - Geneva's famed fountain spraying water into the sky - A pair of scootering tourists enjoying the lake with Mont Blanc in the background 

Driving through the Swiss midlands is a joy…these valleys are bordered by the magnificent Alps on the right side (with the pristine snow’s of Mont Blanc and the Berneser Oberland always on the distant horizon) and the Jura chain running parallel to the highway on the left The myriad tunnels that snake through the hillsides are marvels of engineering; the industrial landscape outside of Lausanne quickly gives way to pastoral countryside with exquisite examples of regional architecture, which changes mile after mile as we barreled toward Basel and the German border.

 

Imaginative examples of Swiss industrial architecture along the road to Basel

A fruit tree orchard elegantly covered in gauze to keep the birds out - A freshly plowed field with distant clouds and mountains in the background

Our first planned stop was Freiburg and a visit to the KAGAN CLUB. Freiburg is located in the foothills of the Black Forest. The club was founded and named after me when the owners bought my furniture to decorate the Club’s two floors on the 18^th and 19^th floor of the tallest building in Freiburg. In Freiburg, no building is allowed to be taller than the famous Münster - Cathedral…. Our visit turned out to be a huge disappointment because the club was a ghost of it’s former self. Kagan furniture had been replaced with commercial substitutes, the walls desperately needed a paint job… lunch and dinner were no longer served… The Club was turned into a Disco, where besotted dancers don’t see the filth. (I had always predicted that the club was named after me to avoid embarrassment, should it fail... no one knows who Kagan is!!!) My prediction of anonymity became all too true. However, pretty hostesses and the splendid views never change. Tanya and I enjoyed our ten-minute walk-thru.

 

The dilapidated sign at the entrance to the Kagan Club - Two pretty hostesses at the Club with me

My sister, Tanya and I standing in from of the magnificent view of the Black Forest and Freiburg's Münster (Cathedral)

To savor the best of Germany, and cut the driving distance, we planned to spend the night in Baden Baden. Baden Baden is one of Germany’s favorite watering holes, renown for its hot springs and pampering spas. We chose to stay in the Brenner Park Hotel and Spa, a classic relic of years gone by. (Well worth the price of admission when someone else is footing the bill).  Our stay was all too short, but we needed to stay the course and stick to our itinerary.

Elaborate sign at the entrance to Baden Baden

A street clock on the way to our hotel

 

The glamorous swimming pool at the Hotel Brenner Park - that's me in the middle of the pool!

According to Google, Worms is only an hour and a half away from Baden Baden … what was not factored into this calculation are the interminable German STAUs… predictable locations for traffic jams! (We encountered a serious jam that stretched 19 kilometers!) These delays are predictable, because of massive road and bridge construction… Unlike American highways, where there is the occasional exit for a quick escape, here there were none… It gave me ample time to admire the original calligraphy and the diverse home base of the trucks that were creeping along in the right hand lane. Add to this frustration a rather boring landscape of plowed fields and the distance became considerably longer. We arrived in Worms at dusk.

 

 

 

 This ominous sign means "Traffic Jam" in German... and we were in a lulu of a jam!

            

 

Colossal traffic jam on the Autobahn

Entertaining myself with the graphics on the stalled trucks

Worms, unless it is your destination, is a quick bi-pass on the Autobahn. Of course, for us it was the final destination. You can read all about Worms in my sister article: RETURNING HOME – A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY. Our stay in Worms was all of 36 hours, but we left with enough memories to make the time feel like a week. 

 

Driving into Worms through the old Rashe Tor - A passage in the restored city walls

Departing Worms in the late afternoon, we braced ourselves for another 300 Kilometer drive to Basel. However, by then it had become teatime! And what better place for a small detour than Heidelberg? (My sister Tanya had become a seasoned traveler and was game for all comings and goings.) Heidelberg is a beautiful University town located in the steep valley of the Odenwald along the shores of the Nekar River. (Back in the early thirties, my father had an Art Gallery there… I remembered it well. The city was not destroyed in the Allied bombings; therefore Heidelberg retained its old-world charm. We found a delightful coffee house for a leisurely afternoon Cappuccino.

 

This detour brought us to Basel considerably after dark, where we struggled for an additional hour trying to find the Hotel Les Trois Rois, which is located on the edge of the Rhine. We drove down one-way streets, dodging trams, all due to typical male-chauvinist stubbornness! (Our driver’s refusal to ask directions as he had been there once before, and was determined to find it on his own!) We arrived somewhat frustrated and too late for dinner. But breakfast made up for our disappointment as we sat watching an endless parade of barges steaming up river within an arms-length off our table.

 
A double-hung chandelier dropping through the five-story deep stairwell at the Hotel Les Trois Rois

A river barge chugging upstream on the Rhine as seen from the hotel dining room

  Basel was to be our culture stop: first a visited the Fondation Beyeler for a personal look at the Jeff Koons show (see my sister Article: AM I CRAZY OR JUST OUT OF TOUCH?) However, it being a Monday, the other cultural institutions were closed. However, the Vitra Museum in Weil on Rhine, was just across the German border and we found ourselves once more in Germany. Unfortunately the museum, which owns a dozen pieces of my furniture, (carefully stored in the basement) was closed for renovation. I found my longtime friend, Mathias Schwartz-Clauss, the museum’s curator, who welcomed us and led us to the Vitra’s newest addition, The Factory Museum and Retail Shop recently designed by the world renowned architectural team of Herzog & de Meuron. This is a showcase for Vitra’s expansive collection of modern furniture, (much of it manufactured under license from Herman Miller in the States.) The building functions beautifully from the inside… A tribute to the architects listening to their client’s needs. However, the exterior, at first glance, looked like a random stack of recycled industrial buildings painted in a drab black, which slashed across the bucolic countryside. Upon closer inspection, these radical criss-crossed shapes did create fascination silhouettes and unexpected openings to the green fields beyond. We spent most of the afternoon there… Tanya was saving Germany’s economy by buying everything in sight and I photographing the images used in this article.

 

This is Frank Ghery before Bilbao at the Vitra museum in Weil am Rhine

the new Vitra Museum shop and display area designed by the Basel architectural team of Herzog & de Meuron 

A parting shot 

the photo above is an outdoor bench at the New Vitra Museum by Herzog & de Meuron 

 
This is a photo of the outsdoor bench that I built in my Nantucket house some 14 years earlier!

No one was unhappy with our delayed return to Geneva… we had enjoyed a late lunch in the Vitra’s cafeteria and ultimately an even a later dinner back home in Geneva.

 

All of us have become seasoned travelers and are now ready for any new adventure thrown into our path.

 

 

 

Jeff Koons Exhibit in Basel - Switzerland

 

Am I crazy or just out of touch?

Copyright Vladimir Kagan May 17, 2012

 

I had recently been invited to the opening of the Jeff Koons’ exhibit at the venerable Fondation Beyeler in Basel, Switzerland. The Beyeler is one of the mainstays of the Avant-Garde Art movement in Basel: Art Basel is its by-product and Art-Basel Miami its younger sibling.

 

I have not followed the “Hip – Pop-Art - Avant-Garde” movements in art and am therefore a neophyte in this gendre. My closet encounter was through a client who collects and boasts friendship with Damien Hirst, whose art consists of dissected animals and humans preserved in formaldehyde… Enough to turn your stomach, unless you are a student of anatomy. (I also have a surprising number of friends who consider Hirst’s work to be a message in art…. I have tried, but failed to see it).

 

Jeff Koons is another “anatomist”, but not the pickled sort. He is prolific beyond belief. He probably is a consummate artist with unimpeachable skills. But what is most evident in his work is the art of making money… It is said that he is the most successful artist alive today.

 

I went to Basel to see the show. The museum’s entire spacious galleries are devoted to exposing these larger-than-life, children’s toys… One or two per room to gives the viewer ample time and space to absorb this incredible triumph in art. There are balloon wiggles (the type you buy from street vendors in the park). There are porcelaine dolls usually found as cheap prizes at the fun fair. He’s obviously gone to the Five and Dime, the local thrift shop and the roadside secondhand shops to rummage for toys, jewelry and Disney ceramic statuettes to glorify them as his idea of art.

 

This is one of several giant balloons each dominating a single gallery

I had to sneak this photo from around the corner as I was admonished by the guard, not to take photos!

I don't remember if these dolls came out of a Cracker Jack box or the fun fair?

Koons is an amazingly skilled. craftsman.. this Baroque mirror is a gem

This was my favorite piece in th exhibit - not because she was nude - but I loved the sense of humor

A startling piece of craftsmanship - alone, in another environment it would really hold its own

And when you are through paying homage to his blown-up toys, there is an entire gallery dedicated to the adoration of the modern vacuum cleaner.

 

The deification of the vacuum cleaner

Has Koons slipped off the edge? Hell no! He’s poking fun at the gullible art world, while he sits at home comfortably puffing his pipe for more dreams to fulfill.  

 

I ran into Koons’ work some 12 years ago, at the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao. There he was commissioned to create a giant puppy out of flowers… when I say giant, I mean five stories tall! That was a very impressive achievement technically, keeping the flowers alive, watered, pruned and replaced as needed. This phase of his work was not neglected at the Beyeler, where he created an equally impressive Swiss Cow on the exquisite grounds of the museum.

 

My  first encounter with Jeff Koons was at the Guggenheim in Bilbao fifteen years ago

Jeff Koons repeated his engineering feat in the Beyeler Garden - this time - A Swiss Cow

 

The beautiful garden of the Beyeler Fondation Museum 

After Ernst Beyeler’s death the Fondation Beyeler is now run by the city of Basel and a group of esteemed curators. My Sister and Brother-in-law knew Ernst well and exclaimed, “Poor Ernst must be turning in his grave”

… I hope, for his eternal peace, that he is not.     

 

The Lure of The Swiss Alps

The Twenty-Four Hour Gstaad Cure

Copyright Vladimir Kagan May 7, 2012

 

If there were any place on this earth where I would rather be for 24 hours than Nantucket, it would be Gstaad... So here I am!

 

The Roessli Post Hotel where my family has stayed for eons.

Not the glitzy Gstaad of Gucci and Hermes shops... not the Palace Hotel, but the Bernese Oberland, that starts for me, immediately after leaving Bulle* and emerges into the foothills of Gruyère, (the fabled castle fortress perched on top of a hill, overlooking the vast valley below). Gruyère’s fame comes not from its historic role but from the cheese produced in the region and named in its honor. From here, the road winds up a gentle curving road that steepens as you drive deeper into the foothills of the Alps. You pass through village after village, without an inhabitant in sight… each dominated by its beautiful church and the ubiquitous Guesthouse Restaurant.

Before you reach the Alps, you drive along picturesque Lake Geneva - looking toward Montreux

 

So far, we have traversed French-Switzerland – Vaud, but a mere 10 kilometers beyond, we emerged into “Das Saanenland”, the picturesque little village of Saanen that is only 6 kilometers away from Gstaad. This is the beginning of the Bernese Oberland, where French is abruptly abandoned for Schweizerdeutch (Swiss-German)... a lilting throaty German, incomprehensible to most proper Germans. (I've learned to fake it)... but you have to be born here to speak it properly… I love its singsong lyrical sound that goes so well with the laid-back unchanging spirit of the Alps.

 

 

The Gruyère Castle high up on the hill - "my gateway" to the Bernese Oberland

 

Our first stop was Les Moulins, a tiny “pass-thru” hamlet that is home to my friend Frédérique Chapalay, a farmer in the summer and ski instructor in the winter. He is the salt of the earth… fit as a fiddle at age 50-something… a self taught linguist who speaks French, German, Italian, and perfect English. He tends his 26 cows unassisted and finds time every day to climb into the high Alps to ski the last snows of spring.

My friend and ski-instructor for the last twenty year, Frédérique Chapalay - tending his herd of prized cows

The road (at dusk) now winds gently upward past Château D’Oex, and Rougemont. (The Swiss are geniuses at building bypasses to preserve the original character of the these ancient villages)

 

Susan and Charles Jefford, who so gallantly allowed me to cajole them into taking this nostalgic trip with me. they had no idea what they were getting in to!

  
Gstaad's little church in the middle of town... empty streets at this time of year

The Jefford, showed me with great pride, my son Illya's painting of the same scene, which they has acquires years earlier!

Me... the only person for miles around

It is very off-season in Gstaad... the snow hasn't quite melted and the trees are just trying to blossom. Main Street is empty and shops are closed except for the coffee houses and Early Beck... the region's fabled "conditerei" (bakery - there is one in every village).

 

This glorious Alpine area is all about cows: Its worship of cows borders on the religious (think India). Festival are built around their departure for summer pastures and their triumphant return in the late fall... bedecked with flowers and huge ceremonial bells. There are special Feasts and dances to celebrate the "prettiest" cow in the region... (Being canny Swiss - it is always the richest farmer's cow that is selected as he must also sponsor the party replete with a local band, yodeling, abundant food and gallons of wine.)... To be invited to one of these festivals is the ultimate arrival.

 

Frédérique's newborn "babies"

Cow's abound everywhere... as bronze street sculptures or in our hotel as a scrawny cow... I couldn't believe that that was a Swiss cow... it wasn't. It was a commissioned work by an American sculptress: Sandy Graves... she obviously didn't understand what Swiss cows are all about!

Cows are central to the local economy (aside from tourism). It’s the double cream and mountain cheeses that have sustained the local farmers for generations. These robust farmers live in virtual isolation all summer; tending their cows in high pasturelands... rugged contented people that do not change from generation to generation. Their farms and pastures are handed down from father to son. And no matter how far some of these sons and daughters might stray from the farm, they collectively return for harvest time.... pitching in to cut the scented grasses that will dry into the life-sustaining hay. They harvest the fields with compact motorized equipment and when the slopes become too steep, laboriously by hand with scythes... This backbreaking work goes on from early morning till night when the last strands of grass are cut and left to dry. The dried hay will sustain the cows all winter long. And so the age-old cycle begins: the cows give milk, which is turned into Cheese on the mountains in the summer and farm co-ops in the winter. This is a 24/7 process - no holidays, vacation nor sickness or death will leave these cows unattended. The process is romantic (Erica had written an enchanting poem extolling this time-honored procedure… I have added it for all to enjoy) There is a poetic symmetry to this process; the cows eat the scented wild-flowered grass - digest it - turn it into milk - their excrement is carefully stored over the winter to allow it to ferment and in early spring, is spread on the fields to fertilize the scented grass that the cows will eat. An eternal cycle. These aromatic manured fields are part of the ritual that draws me to the mountains annually... my special perfume!

 

On our way home, we visited my friend, David Maude-Roxby - an artist, living with his wife Patsy, in this storybook 17th Century Chalet

A beautiful old door opening to the cellar of the Chalet - the ancient front-door lock 

A wheel barrel designed to cary hay standing in front of David's barn

As I have been in Switzerland for the past five weeks... twenty-four hours had to be found to make this pilgrimage - a tonic for body and soul.

 

 *(A small industrial city on a high plateau in Vaud, Switzerland)

 

 

 

AN ALPINE ODE

By Erica Wilson-Kagan - August 2008

 

Hiya, hiya say the crows

Swallows shoot like arrows close to the bright green grass.

The sound of cowbells hangs in the air

Like the misty mountain clouds

Dropping white veils amongst the dark green pines.

Far away in the valley runs the whistling Bimmeli

Brown and white like a toy train with seven coaches.

 

Is it raining?

Yes, you can tell by the dappling movement in the puddles

And the quiet dripping on the sheltering roof.

Nothing is slower than watching grass grow, they say

But here you can really see grass spring.

First meadows of yellow and white flowers

Like fallen sunlight

Are cut and spread to dry beneath the bright blue sky

Then gathered safely into the barn

Next comes the pungent perfume of the spread manure

And curtains of falling rain

Above your head the sky could be the sea

Almost instantly bright sun reveals

Blankets of furry green spread over the rolling hills.

An inch a day?

Two inches?

Who can tell.

Imperceptible like the movement of the hanging clouds

There for one moment - gone the next.

Unchanging then the cycle goes

Cows eat grass

Give milk

Nourish grass

Eat Hay

Give milk

Nourish grass.

The hours - the days - the seasons pass

With measured repetition

Switzerland - the land of clocks

For all the world seems timeless.

 

 

 

Milan’s SALONE INTERNAZIONALE DEL MOBILE

 

Vegetable vs. Alphabet Soup

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, April 27, 2012

 

Have you ever enjoyed your Mother’s vegetable soup? A mélange of healthy ingredients the first day – on the second, the leftovers are tossed into a blender to make a fine puree – it’s delicious but you can’t figure out the ingredients...That’s what the Salone is all about. Good ingredients thrown together into a blend of sameness. After wandering from hall to hall, it is hard to remember what you have seen. Twenty variations of Arne Jacobsen’s iconic Egg Chair, hundreds of wanabees Minotti sofas, all covered in a uniform grey, black or white upholstery. All that differs is the showcase in which they were displayed.

And then there are the few stand-apart companies that thrive on novelty and being different… not necessarily better. Among these: Edra, Driade, Paola Castelli… just to mention a few.

 

Edra, the foremost of the "try-anything-different" companies came up with this Octopus Chair being tested by my handsome Italian assistant, Federica.

Two more Edra chef d'eufs - a slouchie leather chair and a gian blop of rope - neither very sittable

Another gem in the unsittable department is Driade's namless woven chair by Fabio Novembre

Here's a chair that couldn't make up its mind - chair or chaise by Stefano Giovannoni for Paoli Castelli

This is my son, Illya Kagan, demonstrating how it works

A chair that knows its mission - it converts into a bed - by Campeggi

The latest version of a corrugated cardboard chair - (Salone was not lagging in recycled ideas)

A last shot at having fun...My boys playing table hockey with two gorgeous Russian girls selling Pool and Game Tables at one of the stands.

My report is sketchy, as I did not have time to navigate the 20 airplane-hanger sized halls that make up this Colossus of a fair. Add to this the myriad of outside venues that are the chef d'euf of Milan’s hectic Salone week: I managed to take in three: An over-the-top event: Versace… An understated one: Hermes… A totally delightful one: Ingo Maurer… These were only the tip of the iceberg… A week is just not enough time.

One of my all-time favorite manufacturers is DeSedes of Switzerland - conservative - creative - superb quality... This amoeba shaped sofa has an ingenious "traveling" back that can be roll into any position creating a front-to-back seating capability... I have seen it before but loved finding it again at this fair.

 

 

\
One of the understated outside venues was Hermes' minimalist exhibit. It featured a play on their world-famous logo - here used as a laser-cut steel wall with leather squares geometrically hung by a concealed clip system

Still to come: Versace's wild party and Ingo Maurer's magic with lighting

My exhibit fell under the “different” category: Colorful: where most were bland – Open: where others were concealed behind fortressed walls with nubile guards attired in black miniskirts. Entertaining: we amused the audience with the animated drawings that were so successful in Paris. THE VLADIMIR KAGAN NEW YORK COLLECTION is a collection of 65 years of my designs – A mini-retrospective: For the first time we reintroduced lamps and accessories from the 40s. Iconic standards: the freeform sofas and chairs from the 50s, juxtra-positioned were my minimalist architectural designed cabinets and seating from the 60s and 70s: The “Nantucket” sectional sofas are a new addition, designed especially for Paris and Milan in 2012. Collectively, this exhibit reflected the yin and yang of my designing career.

 

The Nantucket Sectional Sofas 2012- in the background - the Sloane Swivel Chair

c 1955 and a lamp and candelabra from 1947

My support Team: Federico Cabrini and my son Illya, who has been appointed sales manager of the Vladimir Kagan Design Group 

Always a crowd pleaser: the Serpentine Sofa from the 50s. Projected on the walls are my every changing annimated drawings that entertained the audience at the show

Contrasting my organic shapes - a linear glass-top dining table and chairs with an illuminated cabinet in the background - all designed in the 1960s

My exhibit was well staffed with three professional sales people, who kept very busy for five days. My job was primarily to hold hands, be photographed with clients from around the world and expound on my sixty-five years of design with sage advice to the public and press.

 

Traffic at the fair was brisk, an alphabet soup of nationalities (though fewer Americans). The clever organizers of Salone timed the show to  virtually coincide with High Point Market, (thus keeping the copycats at bay). In the past, Milan opened its fair a month before High Point, giving devious manufacturers enough time to skulk the isles with their cameras and designers in tow… and voila! New Italian designs at High Point just a month later! – (Leave it to Yankee ingenuity to make it happen in such a record time….)

 

The show was a cornucopia of designs to satisfy everyone’s taste; if you couldn’t find the design of your choice - you may have been blinded by too much good food and wine the night before… It all can happen in Milan.

 

 

 

Milan - A Harbinger of Change

The Shanghai of Italy

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, April 25, 2012

 

Milan: long the dormant giant of wealth and privacy has come alive. It is emerging as a roaring colossal. What once was concealed behind impenetrable boulders of stone, mortar and heavily bolted doors – a city of hidden gardens and conservative residences, is exploding into a Mecca of glass and ostentation.

 

While Italy’s economy is tittering on collapse, Milan is spending itself out of the abyss. This is a strange phenomenon fueled by a stagnant bureaucracy. Conservative Milan did not intent to flaunt its wealth; it was forced to. This building boom was planned over ten years ago, when recession and sub-primes were words that had no resonance. However, the building approval process, moving at an excruciating snail’s pace through an archaic and moribund system for permits took a generation to come to fruition. And now in Italy’s worst recession, Milan is building! World-Class architects such as Zaha Hadid is building her first high-rise, others have already risen. These new glass palaces rival any in the world for ostentation – both office and residential complexes are rising in here-to-fore dormant neighborhoods. My hotel happened to be located in one of them. Porta Garibaldi has morphed from a sleepy dilapidated neighborhood into what is about to become the epicenter of commerce and chic residences.

 

A banking center by Cesar Pelli is almost compete and has attracted arcres of new development

Porto Garibaldi before its transformation into a new city

 

  

  

 

Construction of new buildings along the highway

The old Fairground getting a face-lift with a sexy new roof

NO, this is not the leaning tower of Pisa... it is the twin tower NH hotel at the new Fair designed by architect Dominique Perrault

an interestng bridge on the Highway to the fair

As you know, I am in Milan for the Salone Internazionale del Mobile – the most prestigious furniture show in the world. Until 2006 it was located in a complex of 16 massive buildings – adequate and flawed – hard to access – sprawled over acres of land – poor transportation and infrastructure. But in reality, it sufficed… The Milanese thought otherwise and built a new Colossus with exquisite architectural details, superb transportation access, parking, and highway arteries with direct access. Still, traffic congestion is endemic, but its esthetics is amazing. 

   

The new Fierra an all glass enclosed complex designed by Massimiliano Fuksas

The Milanese are warm friendly people and the eating is divine… I will NOT divulge my favorite restaurants for fear they will be inaccessible when I need a reservation… go find your own. They are on every corner and tiny side street.

 

In the next few days I will report my impressions of the SALONE INTERNAZIONALE DEL MOBILE

 

The Palm Beach Fine Craft Show

Doers vs. Dealers

 Copyright Vladimir Kagan, April 14, 2012

 

The Palm Beach Fine Craft Show was the last major Art event for the Palm Beach’s winter season. though it happened over a month ago, in my mind it remains a significant winner… Small in comparison to the earlier glitzy shows at the Coliseum, this gem of a show was not the usual do-it-in-the-kitchen and sell it at the church-craft-fair variety. This was a juried event by 120 artisans exhibiting in 11 categories ranging from Jewelry, decorative and wearable Fiber, leather, wood, ceramics, glass, and basketry. In other words, it covered the spectrum of creative arts. Exhibitors came from as far as Seattle, Ojai, California, Vermont and as close as our backyard in Florida: Miramar, Sarasota and Miami.

 

What made this exhibit different from the typical mega art shows in Palm Beach was that the artisans were presenting their own wares in each exhibit…. There were no dealers selling expensive art where the creator most likely had no financial gain form the enhanced value of his creativity… or was already dead… Prices were not in the church-fair category but neither was the quality.

 

While the show abounded in creativity, it is unavoidable to find similarities: hand loomed rugs, where the raw material dominates the craft and only the decoration separates one from the other - jewelry suffers a similar dilemma: there is always a plethora of wrought and twisted metal embellished with semi-precious stones (what I call the “hippy” look) - textiles are controlled by the limitation of the yarn and can become homogeneous to the viewer. However, this similarity is offset by the very imaginative use of other raw materials that distinguished so many of the artisans from each other.. It was refreshing to meet the artist and their willingness to share and explain their work instead of being huckstered by middlemen extolling a distant artist’s virtue.

 

 

Kenny Pieper lives in Burnsville, N.C. (not particularly know of it's craft movement.) He has been a glass blower since 1976. His work is elegant and traditional, comparable to the finest works being produced in the Mecca of glass blowing: Murano, Italy. His work stands in stark contrast to the more modern glass artists who have followed in the footsteps of Dale Chihuly.

I was delighted to see a hand-blown goblet selling for three hundred dollars or more and worth every penny. It was also refreshing to find glass artisans not working in the footsteps of Dale Chihuly. Wood-turners not producing salad bowls. Ceramic artists creating delicately carved porcelain vessels that were a feast for the eye, not intended for utility.

 

Another artist, working outside of the box, was Robert Woldow from Seattle, (where Chihuly is God.) Woldow spent his early adult life being a banker until he got the urge to escape the world of nine to five. His amazing geometric designs in bold vivid colors are refreshing interpretation in glass.

 

 

I was impressed by the bold textured ceramics of William Kidd, his studio is in Mirama on Florida's West coast.His bowls, vases and platters were creative eye-catching ceramics in vivid colors.

 

  

Elaine Unzicker started as a jewelry maker but expanded her knitted iron chain maille into wearable art, following in the footsteps of the medieval armory makers, Unzicker works in bucolic Ojai, California and sells to the glitterati of Hollywood and the chic ladies in Palm Beach

 

Natalia Margulis is an artist, living in Livingston, N.J. who has given a contemporary twist to the traditional art of needle work

 

Jennifer McCurdy lives on Martha's Vineyard, she uses the age-old techniques of porcelain turned on a potter's wheel and then carves into sculptures. Her inspiration has come from the disintegrated shells so abundant on the beaches near her home. Her work is in many permanent museum collections

 

Basket making is an ancient art, practiced by natives around the world. the results are varied from utilitarian to decorative to fantasy... what I like about Mary Jackson's baskets are the discipline and simple elegant shapes that terminate in a swoosh with the handle.

 

Ladies handbags are usually made out fine leather or cloth, never out of wood, until Kimberley Chalos from Evansville, IN came along... she has carved this amusing bags from exotic woods with funky lids

This brings up the eternal dialogue: Art vs. Craft (I am of the school that these categories mesh and are not separable) and I am naturally drawn to the artisan’s imaginative interpretation. (This argument is equally salient in my field: Furniture as art or furniture as utility???)

 

 

Fortunately, for my readers, there are craft councils sponsoring many similar events around the country. There may well be one near your home worth while visiting.

 

RESOURCE INFORMATION 

Porcelain vases - Jennifer McCurdy , Massachusetts,

www.jennifermccurdy.com

 

Wood Handbags -Kimberly Chalos, Evansville, IN - www.handcarvedhandbags.com

 

Wood turner - Jim Keller, Richmond, TX - www.jimkeller-foxfire.com

 

Glass Waldo - Robert Woldow, Seattle, www.artscraftseattle.com

 

Glass - Kenny Pieper, Burnsville, NC, www.pieperglass.com

 

Wrought Iron Jewelry - Jaclyn Davidson, Vermont, www.jaclyndavidson.com

 

Mesh Iron Fashion - Elaine Unzicker, California, www.unzickerdesign.com

 

Ceramic - William Kidd, Miramar, FL, www.williamkiddceramics.com

 

Needlework - Natalia Margulis, Livingston, New Jersey,

www.nataliamargulis.com

 

Basket maker - Mary Jackson - (b. 1945)

Charleston, South Carolina – no Email

 

 

 

 

 

 

South Florida's Best Kept Little Secrets - III

 

 

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, March 30, 1012

 

The Everglades

 

The Alligator Alley is not a secret. It is an 85 mile strip of four-lane concrete highway that effectively cuts Florida's Everglades into a North and South "swamp", except that the Everglades is NOT a swamp, its a river! In fact, it is the widest river in the world!

The Everglades as seen through the windscreen of a speeding car

The terrible truth is that that swath of concrete virtually stops the flow of water southward and forces the river to drain through artificial canals Eastward and Westward! The Southern portion of the Everglades is gradually drying up while the Northern portion thrives with vast wildlife diversity. It is a monotonous drive at 70 miles per hour with ne'er a change of scenery for the next hour and a half. (I am slightly maligning the scenery as the flat lands eventually give way to miles of tamarind trees that conceal the Cyprus Swamps behind them). This area is duly designated as the Cyprus National Park. There are no through-roads North or South in the Everglades, only short incursions. To reach the Cyprus National Park, you must divert north or south for 20 miles (too far for us as we were heading home). We made several other stabs at exploring the hinterlands, but none were to be found. On one detour we were enticed by the name Snake Road, which promised a Seminole Indian Reservation and the Seminole Indian Museum… What we found instead was a vast swath of prairie land extending as far as the eye could see. Grazing on this land were hundreds Black Angus cattle. This was resurrected swampland, drained and turned into cattle ranches and presumably owned by our Native Americans, who were deeded this land a century earlier (as it was useless swamp land not a fit habitat for the white settlers.)

 

Seminole Indian Territory - drained swampland as far as the eye could see

However, if you really want to get some local flavor, drive off at any of the “Recreational Sites” that offer ramps for boat launching and an occasional raised viewing stands for visitors to gape at the alligators swimming freely down below. It’s the boat ramps you have to concentrate on. If you are lucky you might encounter some REAL Florida types not found at the beach or country club. These are the Swamp People who know the Everglades and what swims in it and inhabits its impenetrable marshy shores. (If you’ve ever read Carl Hiaasen and don’t mind the language, you will meet these delightful people in great depth.) They arrive in the late afternoon towing their airboats behind jalopies, jeeps and mobile homes. These are the folks who harvest the Everglades at dusk and night. They spear for frogs - giant bullfrogs - delicious to eat fried… any surplus can be sold locally for $8 per pound. They’re out there with their kids, wives and girlfriends. You must have a good ear to understand the local lingo, but they are friendly and willing to chat and educate you about their “playground”.

 

An air-boat waiting to be launched --- Rear view of the giant rudders that steer the boat

Air-boats are amazing: expensive toys at $30,000 –they are the closest thing to an airplane – noisy as all get out - steered with two giant airfoil rudders complete with trim tabs and turned with a joystick – speed is essential in order to maneuver the boat – they skims over the water and marsh grass leaving nothing behind but a quickly vanishing wake.

 

Easy as 1 - 2 - 3 Back-up the trailer - submerge it in the water - float the boat and your ready for an evening of "fishin'" with the family

The Canal at dusk - best time for "Frogin"

 

Does it scare the critter and Gators? “Hell no… they're used to it!”… Meeting these folks was the highlight of our cross-Florida trip… I hope that you get to do one soon.

 

Footnote:

Most of Florida once was useless wetlands before it was systematically drained and developed by the "Robber Barons" of the early 20th Century and perpetuated to this day by modern day developers. The routine was simple: Find a piece of wilderness - register your claim with the State - get permission to turn it into agricultural use. After all, farming is the backbone of this country... you cannot deny these good people their livelihood. This is a long-range project: it takes years to drain the land - kill off the fauna and flora that inhabit it. But it takes only a few years before this farmland becomes too valuable to farm; it is then easily converted it into human habitat - hang on a few caveats such as affordable housing and get financial support... and Bingo: you have a gated community.

There are vast tracks of land that have been converted to agriculture, The sugar industry is the worst transgressor…( did you know that you cannot buy imported sugar???). The Agriculture industry spews millions of gallons of phosphates into this delicate ecosystem yearly!

Only in response to the persistent cajoling of environmental groups, has the State of Florida together with the Federal Government finally taken the necessary steps to aggressively restore what's left of this National treasure.

 

 

South Florida’s Best Kept Little Secrets

 

Copyright Vladimir Kagan March 27, 2012

 

The Vero Beach Museum of Art

The  Vero Beach Museum of Art

Vero Beach is hotbed of addicted golfers, tennis jocks and ferocious bridge players. It is located along a strip of the Atlantic Ocean half way between Palm Beach and Orlando (whichever airport you prefer). Politically conservative, extremely rich, aloof and in love with itself, its residents are mostly snowbirds, (a moniker given by Floridians to Northern refugees escaping the winter cold.) It is a bastion of gated communities. Within the walls you will find luxurious golf clubs, beach clubs and Condos and discreet residences. The little town of Vero Beach boasts a few quiet eateries, one or two art galleries and the usual tourist trappings. What you don't expect to find is a gem of a regional museum. Some twenty years ago, a group reprobate golfers opted for culture and financed the building of this enchanting museum.

Since its inception in 1991, the Vero Beach Museum of Art - a neo-modern building of elegant proportions, has been acclaimed as the principal art facility of its kind on the Treasure Coast. The museum features traveling national exhibits, lectures on humanities and the arts and live performances of all kind. In recent years an impressive sculpture garden has been added. Exhibits and events always draw a faithful crowd… The entire community has jumped on the bandwagon: the walls of the museum, (those not hung with art), are covered floor to ceiling with neat black plaques engrave with the names of hundreds of donors. (Trying to find your host’s name is akin to scouring the walls of the Vietnam Monument in Washington. D.C.) But if you're “gonna” be an upstanding member of Vero Beach society, your name had better be up there!

 

The Sculpted Tree made of wires sprouts a permanent spray of mist - in the Sculpture Garden 

I was dragged (reluctantly), by my hostess to see this pride of Vero Beach’s culture scene. While I was fully prepared for a quick sprint through the exhibits and exit with a proverbial wrist-stamp, I was mesmerized and needed to be dragged out two hours later for a luncheon date.

 

There were three gallery exhibits, each featuring a unique art concept

 

The first: BEYOND REALITY Hyperrealism & American Culture - An assemblage of 17 paintings and sculptures, each depicting reality with more intensity than a photograph. You cannot help but marvel at the details that each work entails – compared to the slap-dash of modernist art, these works show the excruciating detail that the artist put into their work - it is mind boggling. The sculptures needed to be touched (not permitted) to assure that they were not real people. As a practical joke, the guard on duty took the same pose as Marc Sejan’s sculpture and was indistinguishable from the works on display. A few minutes later he walked over jovially to assure me that he was the real thing. The concept of super-realism is not new and many of the works date back to the 70’s and 80’s, though the origin go back as far as the 16^th century. The exhibit gives you an awareness of the synergy between photography and art – the hidden beauty of everyday objects as seen through the artist’s eye.

Richard Estes, Union Square, Looking North, 1993 

Duane Hanson, Housepainter 1, 1984 - epoxy resin with oil paint and accessories, lifesize

Marc Sijan, Gallery Guard II, 2011, polyester with oil paint, clothing and accessories


 

In an adjacent gallery CYCLE OF CHANGE Treepile Paintings are the works of Tom Nakashima, nephew of George Nakashima the iconic furniture maker. The thread of continuity is evident as both artists use trees as their common denominator. However, while George carved and manipulated the raw material into elegant furniture, Tom replicates it with intricate details of snippets of newspaper, thousands of them, to recreate the forest as he sees it. What captivated him most were the piles of fallen trees, whether uprooted to make room in an orchard or for swaths of new Track Houses to be developed on the site. The message was clear to him and he painstakingly depicted these transitions in his work. (Not a bad evolution for an abstract artist!)

 

Tom Nakashima - Steward's Sticks, 1999, a collage of newspaper, ink and acrylic chalkline on canvas

19'-6" long

Another of Nakashima's amazing collages

 

The third gallery features LIGHTPAINTINGS the creations of Stephen Knapp, an artist who has turned from brush and canvas to light and glass. It is a fascinating display of prismatic color shards projected on a wall from a single pinpoint spotlight. Mr. Knapp became fascinated with the reflections of stained glass windows in Gothic cathedrals and proceeded to interpret these with precision engineered, metallic coated glass mounted into meticulously located stainless steel brackets. The effect is magical… These amazing projections are best seen in a darkened room.

 

Stephen Knapp - Sarenata 2003 - 2008 - a huge wall to wall installation of prismatic color reflections

 

Viewers in the darkened gallery admiring the Stephen Knapp ligh refractions

A close-up detail of the meticulous placement of the shards of glass creating Knapp's light paintings

All three exhibits show the astute imprimatur of Jay Williams, the museum’s Curator of Collections and Exhibitions. All the artists represented are skilled interpreters of their crafts regardless of their media.

 

I am sending you all over South Florida to enjoy the treasures that await the curious visitor.

 

The Vero Beach Museum of Art

3001 River Park Drive

Vero Beach, Florida

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

South Florida’s Best Kept Little Secrets - I

Copyright Vladimir Kagan March 25, 2012

 

Matteo’s Garden Club Restaurant – Palm Beach

 

If you are a foodie and want to know the best kept secret in Palm Beach, it happens to be located literally in my back yard, right under my balcony at an enclave called the Sun & Surf, a sixties modernist condo located a few blocks North of The Breakers and East of Jack Kennedy’s Catholic Church, St. Edward, and most importantly, a block away of the only Publix on Palm Beach Island. (How lucky can you get?)

 

Matteo's Garden Club Restaurant as seen from my terrace

We have one new landmark: Matteo’s Garden Club Restaurant at 140 Sunrise Avenue! There are no signs – it is not advertised (they are forbidden by legal covenant), its reputation is built by word of mouth only. It happens to be one of the finest Italian eateries in town. The Chef – Owner Mateo Vicinanza, a native of Italy, is no new comer to Palm Beach. Mateo was chief chef at Cucina Dell’Arte, Piccolo Paradiso in Miami and Mario’s Il Palio. He and his wife Tami, have taken over this sleepy facility, tucked into the garden of our Condo complex and have turned it from a boring country-club type restaurant (that served the tenants of our two buildings) into a gourmet’s delight. It is reasonably priced with ample seating inside and out under cheerful yellow umbrellas. The dreary décor of its predecessor is nonchalantly ignored and becomes less significant once the food is served. (Who says a good Italian eatery must have lavish decoration!)

 

Four new fans of Matteo's - the Kagan family: Vladi, Vanessa, Matt and Olivia

The Menu is ample and diverse with such favorites as Ravioli Caprese, $14, Penne Bolognese $14, Battuta Di Pollo $14, Veal Scaloppini Shitake $24, Osso Bucco Milanese $22 and many more Italian standards. What is not on the Menu are the chef’s delectable specials; determined daily by fresh availability. A glass of house wine is $6 and by the bottle $16. I will not attempt to describe the food in the glowing terms of the food critics, but suffice it so say it is delicious. If you’re in town, come join us at our secret treasure.

 

“I would put Matteo’s food up to any restaurant in town” says one of my chic neighbors, Carol Weltz, who is frequently seen in the best restaurants around town. “The care and presentation Matteo puts in everything is amazing. Even his sugar cookies and macaroons are divine.”

 

Amen Carol, you’ve said it all!

 

Matteo’s is open for Lunch and dinner Tuesday through Saturday and Sunday Brunch. Reservations are strongly suggested: 561-833-6600

 

 

 

 

The Art of Edwina Sandys: A 40 Year Retrospective

The Art of Edwina Sandys

at the Ann Norton Sculpture Garden – West Palm Beach

Copyright Vladimir Kagan – March 11, 2012

 

Quotation from the invitation

"Edwina Sandy’s works goes from the sacred to the secular, addressing politics and society. Sandys has tackled big ideas while combining the lighthearted, the profound, the playful and mind provoking. The British born artist’s appeal lies in her diverse subject matter and clearly recognizable style using positive and negative images to powerful effects."  

 

I had never visited the Ann Norton Sculpture Garden; having been under the misconception that it is was an appendage to the Norton Museum. It is Not. It is the former home of Ralph Hubbard Norton (founder of the Norton Museum) and his second wife, Ann. She was a significant modern artist in the 40’s through the 70’s and turned her house, studio and glorious gardens into a museum to display her sculptures, many created in bricks, others in stone and wood, all mammoth in size. Mrs. Norton’s other passion was trees and tropical plants. The magnificent garden serves as home for both. A visit is a feast for the eyes.

 

On special occasions the space is offered to worthy artists for exhibits of their work. My friend Edwina Sandys is a beneficiary of this largesse. This is an eye-filling forty year retrospective of her drawings, paintings and sculpture.

 

life is a party 2002 - a segment of a painting, showing Edwina in full force using color & humor 

Edwina thrives on thinking outside of the box. Her wicked sense of humor is evident in all of her work. Her drawings and painting are the musing of her creative mind. She is a free spirit – a feminist – a biblical scholar - a politician with a sardonic sense of humor and a consummate artist. She creates with an assured hand, delineating her ideas in strong single strokes with paintbrush, pen, or marble. Her sculpture is an extension of her works on paper and canvas and often they are intertwined.  Her paintings and drawing are a kaleidoscope of vivid colors. By contrast, her sculptures, whether working in Carrara marble or metal - the dominant color is white. Her monumental silhouettes become the canvas for her fluent brush-strokes. Naked torsos, faces, fauna and flora are embellished with a minimalist touch of black and red. She exploits negative space skillfully. The void left by the cut-out often reappear as a solid figure as a part of the sculpture. There are works devoted to the interaction of Man and Woman. Hands are often a favorite subject and can appear as cut-outs, hair or holding the apple that Eve presented to Adam.

 
Edwina with two of her sculptures using negative and positive cut-outs. 2005

Walk through a gate into a cloistered, secret garden and you are confronted with a cache of biblical figures; satirical life-sized women and men, heroines and scoundrels, all in stark white silhouettes accompanied with a fitting quotation from the Old Testament.

 

From the Biblical series: Delilah having just cut-off Samson's hair - in the Ann Norton Garden

Rachel 1986 - Polypropylene and mixed media - from the series: Women of the Bible

Salome 1986 - doing her dance of the seven veils

(These works have not been seen for over a quarter of a century. Since being exhibited in 1987 at the Everson Museum Syracuse and the National Museum of Women in Arts, Washington DC. They have been stored in gigantic crates in a Florida warehouse.)

 

Her feminist side is evident in a provocative crucifix, which, upon closer examination depicts Christ as a naked woman: Christa. She provoked frenzied attention worldwide when it was first shown in London in 1975. Christa achieved further notoriety when she was exhibited in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine during holy week in 1984. The work was acclaimed and defiled. The reverend James Parks Morton, Dean of the Cathedral had this to say: “All hell broke loose. The press was there. Films were being made of Christa all day. The news hit Rome on Easter Day: ‘Episcopal Cathedral in New York has female Christ’ that went over really swimmingly at the Vatican. Christa became an incredible learning experience for people in the Church, and churches all over the world.”

Christa 1975 - The crucifix that set the religious world topsy-turfy

Eve proffering the Apple 1998

Tulips under the Brooklyn Bridge 2007

 

 Edwina's creative use of hands in her sculpture

Edwina Sandys’ work has been exhibited in museums, worldwide as well as the United Nations, the World Trade Center, on the median of Park Avenue.

 

She is a wonderful friend… Her art speaks for itself and she needs no further kudos, but coincidentally, she also happens to be the granddaughter of Sir Winston Churchill, and has inherited his is high spirited and incisive mind together with his talent as a painter. Churchill plays a subtle role in many of her works. (I own two lithographs: one depicts Churchill seen from the back, painting one of his favorite scenes: Chartwell. The other, Romeo Revisited is a still life with a photo of Churchill lurking in the background surrounded by his beloved cigars wine an cognac.)

 

The Churchill lithographs in my collection

Edwina and me at the Ann Norton Garden as she was setting up the show

If you happen to be in Florida this month… give yourself a treat and enjoy this show. It all comes to life in her exhibit in the Ann Norton Garden.

 

The Ann Norton Sculpture garden is located at:

253 Barcelona Road

West Palm Beach, FL 33401

561-832-5328

 

 

 

Edwina’s fabulous life story and profusely illustrated book:

Edwina Sandys ART

Published by Glitterati in 2010