Form follows function

From DC October 2009

We were in DC last week to see Emily and to attend the first Jack Kemp Foundation luncheon and reception and dinner.  We were only going to have a total of two days there, and one day was the lunch/reception/dinner.  On Tuesday, the plan was to go see the National Building Museum (where Em is interning on Wednesdays and Fridays), and then back to one of our favorites, the  Newseum, followed by the National Gallery to see whatever Loren Barton painting they had there.  We ended up in love with the Building Museum and didn't leave until time to meet Em for dinner.

From DC October 2009

It's hard to get a sense of how HUGE those columns are.  They are some of the biggest of their type in the world.  But unless you're alongside their bigness, you don't really get it.  Emily was at work and thus I thought it permissable to hug one.

Rob had business calls to make so I wandered off to explore a bit while he sipped his latte and chatted with India.

From DC October 2009

We went on a tour, in which it looked like the two of us would be the only ones on the tour.  We were looking at the Presidential Seal that was done in tile, hearing about all of the Inaugural Balls that had taken place there (along with Hillary Clinton's concession speech, which is why it looked a little familiar to me the first time I saw a photo).  The tour guide then told us about the architect, General Montgomery Meigs (pronounced "megs").  She spoke about him in animated but reverential tones, explaining that Meigs received some architectural training at West Point, then was quartermaster general of the U.S. Army during the Civil War where he supervised the construction of barracks, supply depots, and other buildings.  His son died during the war and Meigs went to Europe to recuperate from his loss.  It was there that he fell in love with Italian Renaissance architecture.

Just as our guide had finished her loving tribute, a man walked up to join the tour.  He introduced himself as "Steven Meigs."  I kid you not.  He is the great-great-grand nephew (I think I have the proper number of "greats" in there) of General Meigs.  It was a Woody Allen moment, for sure.  He had never been in the building before, and our tour guide had never had someone so illustrious on her tour before.  She was giddy with excitement.

From DC October 2009

Meigs was given the commission in 1881 and supervised the construction for the next 6 years.  The building was to be a home for the Pension Bureau.  At that time, the Pension Bureau's activities consumed nearly a third of the federal budget, so this commission was a pretty big deal.  His orders were  to make it inexpensive, efficient, fireproof, and oh, by the way, please include a large, grand space for Washington political and social functions.  At the time it was built, it was the largest brick building in the world.  And it impressed Grover Cleveland enough that he held his first inaugural ball there in 1885.

From DC October 2009

Meigs took the designs of a Renaissance palace as his starting point.  But he didn't build a palace.  He built a place for Civil War veterans to come to pick up their pensions.  He used common brick.  Instead of a frieze depicting ancient Greek or Roman battles, he chose to depict something closer to his heart - the Civil War.  The amazing frieze wraps around the whole building and was cast in terra cotta instead of carved in marble.  Instead of ornate finials and flourishes, he made decorative cannons and exploding cannon balls.  He knew his audience and he wanted to please them.

From DC October 2009

Each detail followed Meig's goal of simplicity, economy, and practicality.  You can feel his love and respect for the common veteran in the earthy brick, the easy slope of the steps, and in the conspicuous lack of extravagant detail.  I never quite imagined that each veteran had to go to Washington, to this building, to receive his payment.  There was a big vault upstairs, and each payment was in cash.

After our tour, we went to two exhibits - one on parking garages, and one on store-front churches.

I'm not sure either of us were excited to learn about the history of parking garages.  But it's really interesting.  Really.  Our favorite was the automatic lift from the 30's where you would drive the car onto a platform and then the car would be moved up like a giant ferris wheel of cars.  There were many variations on the theme and they had names like:  Circ-L-Park, Park-A-Back, Park-O-Mat, Sky-Park, Space-O-Matic, Park-A-Loft, File-A-Way, and Ver-A-Park.  In love with the hyphen.

The most beautiful parking garage is the one on the flyer above.  It's in Santa Monica, and I had no idea that it existed.  A field trip is in the works.

From DC October 2009

And last but not least was the exhibit, "Storefront Churches: Photographs by Camilo Jose Vergara."  Emily was so sure I'd love the exhibit that she bought me the exhibit book before I could buy it for myself.  It's nice to know your kids know you so well...

Vergara began photographing churches in poor, minority communities in the late 70's.  He often returns to document the same buildings, and likes to show how ordinary structures "assume, modify, and shed a religious character."  He was interested in the quantity, vitality, and the poignancy of formally dressed church members coming out of decaying buildings and walking home through decaying neighborhoods.

From DC October 2009

I walk through the exhibit and the only thing holding me back from tears was the guard who was trying his best to a.) make sure I didn't take a photo of the exhibit and b.) be my friend.  For years I have been madly in love with a church building in Mojave, one that found its way into my screenplay.  It's in a converted warehouse and is called the "Full Gospel House of Prayer."  I wondered if Vergara knew about it.

From DC October 2009

And then it struck me.  We were inside a building that was modeled after a palace, but its function ordained the character of its form.  A palace would never do for the veteran coming to receive his hard-earned payment.  The building was a tribute to wars fought and victories won.  It was a tribute to frugality, safety, and comfort.  A tribute to grand ideas and humble origins.

From DC October 2009

So, too, were the storefront churches.  Close by to the people they served, modest in the flesh, but grand in name and spirit.  (Could there be a better name for a church than "Thank God For Jesus"?)  No towering spires or elaborately carved gargoyles or intricate stained glass.  This is shout hallelujah and drop-to-your-knees worship.  This is worship where its clear who and what you're serving.  No "edifice complex" here (as my Uncle Dick calls it).  I think Jesus would feel at home at any of these churches.  Me too.  Thank God.

From DC October 2009

Withdrawal Time

Rob and I are already having withdrawal pains.  We've been blessed to have the two nieces, Abby and Marin, staying at our Sideways house. But today, Abby left for a free-lance filming job in Victoria BC, followed by a month in Boston to look for work there.  And on Tuesday Marin leaves to go to Seattle to complete a casting job for the tv show, "World's Strictest Parents." (More on that in another post.)

So for the first time in six months, we won't have at least one of the two nieces nearby.

Abby and Marin say that they didn't know of each other's existence until meeting at Sideways, both looking for jobs in the film industry.  They call each other "C2" which is their slang for Second Cousin, and they even have a sign they make with their hands that symbolizes "C2."  They have drawn the Hummel family tree on the blackboard wall, and are in charge of the first Hummel reunion next summer at Hummel Lake on Lopez Island in Washington.  It is one of the great joys of life to discover new relatives and it has been one of our great joys to watch their friendship develop.

Abby's dad, Jeff, came down from Portland to drive up to Victoria with her.  Abby's car is named "Zippy" and as she, Jeff, and Zippy drove off, the pups stood watch and tried to figure out what was happening.  I know the pups were thinking that they couldn't wait for Abby to come back and throw the disgustingly slimy frisbee for them, as she'd done so many times before.  Rob and I were thinking about the great adventure she was about to embark on and how we couldn't wait for her to come back and tell us all about it (and throw the disgustingly slimy frisbee for the pups).  Bon voyage, Abby.  We love you!

A new perspective

Em just sent me this photo from her new internship.  This is what it looks like from the offices, which are wrapped around the top of the Great Hall, guarded only by a thin metal railing.  It is indeed a new perspective.  New perspectives are good things to have in life, as in buildings.

From the Little House on the Prairie...

I just finished listening to this week's episode of This American Life on the radio and I'm in tears.  The episode is called, "The book that changed my life," and one of the speakers told about her love of the Laura Ingalls Wilder books.  That made me think of the pilgrimage we made many years ago to the Ingalls family home, where Laura wrote the books, and the significance of that trek in daughter Emily's life.

I remember Rob, Emily, Claire, and I driving across Missouri from Illinois (I think Rob had given a talk at our alma mater), wondering if it was worth the time and effort to get there.  Sure, Em loved the Little House books more than anything.  But we didn't know if that would translate into any connection with the house or the land or anything beyond the books themselves.

I'm not sure Em believes me but I think that trip was the trip that sealed her love of museums.  From the moment we stepped on to the Ingalls grass, the Ingalls home was as much a part of her as her own home in Northridge, California.  This was her land, these were her people.  Everything had meaning - from the desk to the carriage to the trees.  I still cry when I think of her running up to Rob and me inside the little museum there saying, "Look!  There's Pa's fork!!!"  It was the moment I knew what Emily was going to do with her life.  It was the moment I knew the awesome power of fiction and history and of family love.  And it is one of my most treasured travel memories.

I couldn't find an image of Pa's fork on the internet, but did find Pa's fiddle, about which Laura wrote, "We never could have gotten through it all without Pa's fiddle."

So it is with deep and profound joy that I imagine Emily beginning her internship with the National Building Museum next week.  The National Building Museum is housed in an appropriately amazing building.  It was built in the 1880's as the U.S. Pension Bureau building.  Em says that the steps in front are very short in height, to make it easier for pensioners to climb them.  That's a thoughtful building.

The outside is gorgeous brick, modeled on the Palazzo Farnese in Rome. The Palazzo was designed by Michelangelo, so you can't go wrong with that as your starting point.  But it's the Great Hall that is the true showstopper.  It was modeled on the Palazzo della Cancelleria, also in Rome, with columns designed after Santa Maria degli Angeli, also by Michelangelo.  The columns are some of the tallest classical columns in the world.  They measure 8 feet wide and 75 feet tall.  I hope I don't embarrass Emily, but I have a tendency to hug columns, and though I can't get my arms around these, I have a feeling that I won't be able to hold myself back. Fortunately, on the day we're visiting, she will be at work, so she won't have to witness my lack of columnal-hug control.

The Ingalls Homestead is in De Smet, South Dakota, which was the setting for The Long Winter.  Each July they do a Laura Ingalls Wilder pageant and act out the books to a recorded sound track.  The actors are farmers and family of farmers, and the cost is only $8.  So, I'm starting to have the feeling I get when a trip starts to plant itself in my head.  I've googled the location of De Smet and found that it's only 60 miles from Watertown which was originally called "Kemp, South Dakota" which is about as good a sign as I require to start planning some adventure.  Below is the Ingalls/Wilder homestead.  If a family can get through a winter living in that, they deserve to have a book written about them.

So, soon Em will be climbing the short steps of the National Building Museum in our nation's capitol, tracing the paths of the pensioners and those attending Inaugural Balls.  And I can't help thinking about Pa's fork.

Claire and Emily a long time ago, on the Oregon Trail
(click photo to enlarge)

Bollywood Meets Hollywood

Yesterday was the big day. Post Logic Hollywood and New York, along with Frantic Films Vancouver and Winnepeg, were pulled under the umbrella of Prime Focus. To celebrate, PF invited 500 industry people and press to showcase the company and to shower us with Indian dress, food, music, and dance.

Each person was given a long red and gold scarf to wear. And a red dot called a bindi or talek was painted on our forehead. The significance of the forehead is that it is the site of the 6th chakra, the seat of "concealed wisdom." Like a third eye. The girl that painted my forehead was dressed in a gold sari and dipped her brush in a small silver bowl with a thick red paste. I looked around the room to see Indians and Americans all with red scarves and red bindis and somehow we all seemed like we had something in common, even if it was something handed to us as we came in the door. I wondered what it would look like if they handed out scarves and bindis to all the people who rode the bus and metro over with me that afternoon. Would they really have yelled the F word so much, if they saw their fellow bus patron dressed (somewhat) like them?

The invitation to the event was really beautiful. It came in a large black fabric-covered box, which also included a book about PF and the people who work there.

And then, underneath the book was a red satin bag with a statue of Lord Ganesh, who is ranked as the most popular of the 33 MILLION gods in the Hindu religion. I thought that's quite a contest, and maybe it's because he's an elephant with a turban because, let's face it, who doesn't love an elephant in a turban? I'm not sure I could pray to such a god, but I love having his likeness sitting on my desk, reminding me of the joy of last night.

Here's Rob talking about new technologies (surprise surprise!).

And then the founder of the company, Namit, took the stage. He talked about his grandfather being a cinematographer, and his dad being a Bollywood producer, and how he wanted to be a director. But he started a small business in his parents' garage when he was in his teens, and it did so well that it became the foundation of the world-wide company of today. He looked like a very proud man on that stage. (He was wearing a long Nehru-collared coat, which reminded me of mom's idea to make my grandpa Kemp a Nehru jacket in the 60's when they were the rage. I know we have photos somewhere, and it made me long to see them again.)

And in between all of the talking, there was music and dancing. The dancers were Bollywood-type dancers and even had a Michael Jackson lookalike. One would think it wouldn't work, but he was good, and his moves were strangely in line with traditional Bollywood moves. The dancing was happy, happy, happy and I could have watched it all night long.

Afterwards, Rob and I went to our favorite coffee house nearby. It's called "Ten Forward" which (apparently) is a Star Trek Next Generation reference. LeVar Burton was at the PF event and Rob told him that he HAD to go to Ten Forward afterwards. LeVar was excited about it and promised to go. We didn't stay long, but I know the owner will be thrilled when "Geordi" walks in that door... LeVar calls me "Mrs. Hummel" (most likely because he can't remember my first name) and always gives me a big hug. Rob said that he got a big hug from him that night too. And we remembered that at ComicCon, daughter Claire introduced herself to him and he said, "I love your dad!" and, you guessed it, gave her a big hug.

There's a lot to be said for elephant gods, red scarves, bindis, music, dancing, and hugs. I feel blessed to have been a witness to it all.