Belltown Bent

Line of sight

Some time has passed since the Bent considered Mountains, murmurations, and Mortimer to tell a story about European starlings. Right around the time we further mangled alliteration with Luke and Linnæus in an attempt to better describe clouds, or not. But not a day has passed without many moments spent gazing out the windows of Bent HQ.

Which brings us right up to last week (wasn't that easy), and this serendipitous capture of clouds and unanticipated chaos. An attempt to compose (yet another) sunset over the Olympics went slightly askew when I was startled by, yes, starlings! Thousands of them. They hadn't even been in my line of sight.

This serendipitous event prompted me to revisit the many resources which informed my brief essays, as well a a few others. Like Stephen Cordifi's concise article on the colors of twilight and sunset, which explains the glorious colors are not caused by pollution. Re-informed, and reassured, the beauty of this Pacific Northwest sunset was all the more enjoyable. It's good to have access to so much information.

But it's even better when other people gather it for you. If you share the Bent's interest in sustainability, economic, and social news pertinent the Northwest, you'll appreciate the team of editors who meet early each weekday to digest over 40 newspapers from around the region and deliver it in the Sightline Daily, a service of Sightline Institute. Even better, you can subscribe to daily, or Weekly Score email updates, and they'll just show up. Kind of like the starlings, only more predictably.

Subscribe by Oct 29, and you'll have a chance to win a (car-less) three-day, getaway train trip for two to Vancouver, and a chance to check out the Olympic Mountains from the other side. It's good to have things come into your line of sight.

Buddy's view

It was Buddy Catlett day in Seattle two weeks ago - February 21st, 2008. I was at City Hall to recognize Buddy, along with my friend Robert Wade, and to celebrate all he means to the city's jazz history and ecosystem. I listened, I watched, I shook his hand, and I photographed him. But I didn't write about it. I didn't share it on the Bent. Like so many people, and things, since last August, it didn't make it to the Bent.

There have been plenty of pictures, and plenty of thoughts. Even occasional hit-and-miss attempts at writing. And for six months, nothing has made it the Bent. They'd slip a day or two, or a week, until they didn't seem like news. And so it went. Or not.

But I kept thinking about Buddy. Out there week after week. Playing gigs with Clarence Acox's Legend Quartet at the New Orleans in Pioneer Square, or with Brian Nova at the Pampas Room in Belltown. He's played with Louis Armstrong, and Quincy Jones, and Cal Tjader and on and on. He just keeps playing. A long time ago. Tomorrow.

I remembered this blog is not about news. It's about the view from here. It doesn't matter if it's a day, a week, or a year old. It's just the view. Thanks Buddy.

More pictures of Buddy and Friends from Buddy Catlett Day in Seattle.

Silas makes his point

I'm still thinking about John Szarkowski, and his gifts to the world of photography. Especially his notion that photographers are pointers. They want to show you what they saw, asynchronously. First, capture the moment. Then, find the memory in the image. Finally, share it, and make one three-hundredth of a second seem timeless.

This is Silas, stealing the sidewalk show. And making a point. He stopped me in my tracks, and stopped time in the process. As the ad hoc leader of Red Brown and the Tune Stranglers (Red didn't make the date), Silas stepped up big time, and drew the crowd in for the rest of the band, delivering some of the finer moments at 2007's NWFL Festival.

While there was no doubt he was working it, was he actually playing the violin? Can't say, really. Did he have the best moves on the entire Fisher Pavilion promenade? Absolutely. Was he flat out fronting the band. For sure. Sometimes it just doesn't matter. There's more here than meets the ear, much less the eye. And that's Silas' point.

Thank you Mr. Szarkowski

Photographers see things. We walk around with invisible brackets before our eyes, constantly framing most anything which falls within our view. We are consciously aware of patterns and lines defined by light and dark, color and texture, physical objects and negative space. We see things we want to capture. Things we want to show other people.

John Szarkowski called it pointing. “One might compare the art of photography to the act of pointing,” Mr. Szarkowski wrote. “It must be true that some of us point to more interesting facts, events, circumstances, and configurations than others.” We aspire to be pointers. We strive to make our observations interesting.

Mr. Szarkowski, curator, educator, author, photographer, passed away on Saturday. His contribution to the world of photography, to those who capture images and those who gaze upon them, is respectfully chronicled in Philip Gefter's column in The New York Times. He curated some 160 exhibits of photography while at New York MoMA, and exposed the world to visionary photographers like Diane Arbus, Garry Winogrand and Lee Friedlander. As Gefter says, he was "a curator who almost single-handedly elevated photography’s status in the last half-century to that of a fine art".

Chris Rainier, a National Geographic staff photographer, told Alex Chadwick on NPR's occasional series Photo Op, Szarkowski, "maybe more than anyone else, created the notion that photographers are not merely technicians or observers -- they are artists."

From the perspective of one photographer in Belltown, it seems John Szarkowski helped create a generation of people who are willing to look, think about, and respond to what photographers want so much to share. They are willing to see.

Thank you, Mr. Szarkowski.

Have a nice yesterday

Looking out the window this afternoon brought the pleasant reminder that this upcoming weekend presents one of the Bent's favorite opportunities to go back in time.

The unmistakable lines, the perfect pace, the gentle roll of the bow wake, and the gorgeous glow of pampered bright work - not unlike this Lake Union Dreamboat, photographed on a Bent cruise through BC's Gulf Islands. I pinched myself. I wasn't dreaming.

A pre-war wooden motor yacht was making it wondrous way down Elliot Bay for Bell Harbor and the annual Rendezvous of the Classic Yacht Associations Pacific NW Fleet, one of several such events scheduled for this summer.

Saturday and Sunday, June 16-17, the harbor will be a solid slip to slip dreamland of lovingly restored and maintained wooden motor yachts, displayed up-close and touchable, many open for boarding, and all worthy of the awe and admiration they inspire.

If you're anywhere near the downtown waterfront, make your way to Pier 66, check out the classic cars on display up top, then make your way down the gang-plank to a rendezvous with boating's past, and thank the skippers for keeping it present.

A Saturday Double-Header

Double-headers don't come around every weekend. And if you've going to see one, you pretty much know what you're in store for.

But Saturday, about 2 miles north of trackside Safeco Field, and several hours before the Mariners hit the field, visitors to Belltown's Seattle's Olympic Sculpture Park were treated to a double-header of another sort. Most of us were caught by surprise.

Sporting bigger numerals than you'll ever fine on a baseball jersey, numbers 844 and 4449  double-headed right past Calder's Eagle and through the park, whistling away in a cloud of steam. Union Pacific 844, the last steam engine delivered to Union Pacific, in 1944, pulled lead on the northbound leg of the Puget Sound Steam Special from Tacoma to Everett, a benefit for the Barriger Library of the University of Missouri at St. Louis, and the Oregon Rail Heritage Foundation. After decades of pulling passengers and freight, the 844 now serves as Union Pacific's goodwill ambassador, and remains the only Class 1 railroad steam locomotive never to be retired.

A few hours later, on the southbound leg of the excursion, the 4-8-4 configured locomotive Southern Pacific 4449 had the honors of pulling lead back to Tacoma. Built by Lima Locomotive Works in Lima, Ohio, 4449 began its interesting history pulling SP's premier passenger runs in California, including the Coast Daylight, and was one of two locomotives to pull the American Freedom Train during the United States Bicentennial.

More: video (6:05) | recollections of a railroader - Bill Virgin's P.I. column | 4449 and 844 pix on flickr

Unfamiliar territory

Just as Edward found himself checking out his strange, stylized and fantasized fifties suburban setting, so did a handful (well, four fingers worth) of newer world photobloggers, including the Bent's resident shooter.

We all (Edward and the four of us) were in the comfortable confines of Seattle's 5th Avenue Theatre for a reason. Mr. Scissorhands to make an entertaining spectacle of himself The four photogs to capture the first 30 minutes (more pictures), as unobtrusively as possible.

The occasion was the opening night of the Seattle run of the Edward Scissorhands North American Tour, Matthew Bourne's adaptation of the Tim Burton film - a musical play without words best described (video) by Matthew himself. A dialog-free music and dance adaptation of a film is somewhat experimental, at least in my experience. Our hero, Edward, was the loving experiment born of tragedy, in his grieving father's lab. And the invited presence of of photobloggers was a experiment in viral marketing of mainstream theater. This entry is a lab result. You have become part of the experiment.

The show, as evidenced by a sustained standing "O", was wonderfully, and somewhat unconventionally, entertaining. The audience, save those few who wondered where the words went, loved it. Real critics felt 'Edward Scissorhands' - "wins some, looses some" - R.M. Campbell, P-I Dance Critic, and "makes the cut as a hybrid of dance and drama" - Meisha Berson, Seattle Times Theater Critic.

As for the marketing test, it remains to be seen. It was a welcomed opportunity and seems well suited to our new media landscape. In both cases, the Bent says, "Two blades up!"

A plane runs through it

It's been over thirty years since an admiring audience watched Alexander Calder complete the painting of his abstract design on a Braniff jet at the 1975 Paris Air Show. But almost every week you can see a Boeing jet fuselage (from the French fuselé, spindle- shaped, no less) roll by Calder's Eagle, on a train, right through the middle of a museum.  Good seats are usually available.

Earlier this week, Harvard University Graduate School of Design announced the Veronica Rudge Green Prize in Urban design was awarded to Weiss/Manfredi Architects in recognition Belltown's (OK, and Seattle's) Olympic Sculpture Park - in large part because their design makes such seemingly incongruous events commonplace. As the judges put it, "The park becomes a piece of sculpture itself, reframing its urban condition."

As the Bent sees it, thanks to Weiss/Manfredi's design, the cars, trains, boats, and yes, planes do a fascinating job of re-framing the art.

The lady gets around

Since the lovely yacht Laurel last graced the Bent's view of Elliott Bay, she has covered thousands of nautical miles visited glamorous ports of call.

Wherever she went, it seems, folks wanted to know more about her. Thanks to those who found posts about her here on the Bent, and the Ship's Blog, just up the bay in Shilshole Marina, we know some of the places she's been. You can probably use your imagination (and Google maps) to fill in the blanks in the itinerary. Really, let it run wild, I did:

Cabo San Lucas in late April; Ft. Lauderdale in early May; Amador, Panama (at the entrance to the canal) shortly thereafter; jump to Venice in late June; Split, Croatia in early July; Naxos, Rhodes, Lindos, and Symi, Greece through mid-August; Civitavecchia, Italy in late August; then back to Rybovich Marina in Riviera Beach, Florida the first week of December; St. Thomas V.I. by mid-month; then Falmouth Harbour, Antigua just after the new year. (Thanks, folks, for the comments. They make this whole thing work.)

But as beautiful as those destinations must be, Laurel couldn't have looked any more lovely anywhere than she did slowly cruising Alki on this rainy Saturday morning, before she anchored off Salty's. After a trip like that, the folks on board were probably ready to enjoy some Northwestern soul food and see what Sommelier Tim O'Brien (Washington Wine Commission's Sommelier of the Year 2006) was pouring for St. Patrick's Day.

Paternity TBD

Monday morning brought with it the joyous arrival of three little eaglets, nestled comfortably in their cozy nest, under the watchful gaze of their Eagle foster mother or father (Calder never really made that clear) in Belltown's Olympic Sculpture Park.

The eaglets' birth parent(s) - we'll assume father(s) - were nowhere to be found, leaving behind only a small sign which read Eaglets - Mixed Media - 2007 and the initials pdl, accompanied by the ASL symbols for each letter.  This stylized attribution leads the Bent to believe local performance art trio Jason Puccinelli, Jed Dunkerley, and Greg Lundgren, also known collectively as Vital 5 Productions, are responsible for this gift of life.

But one can't be sure. Just last week, the trio, decked out in berets, were in Tacoma impersonating collaborative artists SuttonBeresCuller as they anonymously installed their own Ship in A Bottle at TAM. But that's a different story.

Maybe.

It's entirely possible that SBC sired the Eaglets and are impersonating-in-absentia (is that possible?) the apparently attributed acronymic parents. DNA sampling doesn't quite work in this really-mixed-media world. Maybe we could check for paint chips under fingernails to find out who's parenting, or performing, whom.

UPDATE: PDL acknowledges paternity in Seattle PI

UPDATE: 02/20 - after being buffeted about and knocked from their nest by recent wind and rain, the eaglets have been moved indoors and are under the foster care of SAM conservators.