A Serendipitous Discovery

Funny how things happen: Here I am in Alabama, enjoying all I'm learning about the Alabama Blues Project. Then I find that Kim Davis, the Programs & Office Assistant, just happens to teach Irish Dance. The juvenile I'm currently working on has a character who, in the 1870s, does an Irish jig and inspires a painting crucial to the story.

I have never seen an Irish Jig. Nor did I realize that a jig is a special style whose beat differentiates it from, say, a reel or hornpipe, rather than being a dance genre per se. Kim was able to point me to a video that shows step by step what an 8 hand jig would have looked and sounded like in the time of my story. She is also going to put me in contact with someone who can answer further research questions.

My story character eventually ends up in California, but for my research, I seem to be in "mother lode country" right here in Alabama.

The Alabama Blues Project

I'm in Alabama now, in the office of the Alabama Blues Project, a wonderful non-profit organization co-founded by my niece, Debbie Bond, and expanded under her and Rick Asherson's co-directorship. The Alabama Blues Project (ABP) is dedicated to preserving and promoting the blues through educational programs, live performances, exhibits, etc. with a special emphasis on Alabama's contributions to the blues. Sponsors of the ABP include National Endowment for the Arts, the Alabama State Council on the Arts, Alligator Records, and Bonnie Raitt, among others.

As a former teacher, concerned that young people get exposure to the arts, I'm especially impressed by the ABP's three-pronged educational outreach:

1.school residencies (including out of state residencies) that expose students to blues history as well as hands on musical instrucion with traditional blues instruments.

2.An after school blues camp one day a week for 10-12 weeks that includes musical instruction, life skills instruction, blues history, and culminates in an onstage performance with known blues artists such as Sam Lay, Homemade Jamz, and others.

3.A week-long intensive summer blues camp where students learn to play an instrument, receive vocal instruction by blues artists such as Carrolyn Shines (daughter of legendary Johnny Shines) and visual art instruction by world renowned folk artists Lonnie Holley and Miz Thang. This camp culminates in a "blues cafe" performance.

There is also an advanced band that has grown out of repeated attendance of these camps, and the advanced band plays gigs of its own at community events and festivals.

In addition to directing the ABP, Debbie has a popular blues band that plays around the state and out of state. She's a vocalist and guitarist. Rick Asherson, her husband, plays keyboard and harmonica. A sax player and various guitarists and drummers fill out the rest of the band. In the past Debbie has played back-up guitar and has sung with Willie King here and in Europe. In earlier days she played and sang with her mentor, Johnnie Shines,and went on a European tour with Little Whitt and Big Bo.

I had the pleasure of attending a gig yesterday at a farmer's market where her band plays regularly. It was an afternoon that I didn't want to end. (It was the first time I had seen one of their performances, and I was one proud auntie.) At one point, Rachel Edwards, a 20-year-old graduate of the APB program came up to sing with the band. She, too, was fabulous. This is a name to watch for in the future.

Meanwhile, to learn more about the ABP, go to: http://www.alabamablues.org/educationprograms.htm#residencies

You'll be glad you did.

Finished! This Draft, Anyway.

I finished it. It did grow one more chapter. But only one. It's done. Until a rewrite is suggested.... That's how it goes.

But, having finished this draft, I can go off tomorrow and enjoy a visit with my blues-singer niece and her husband in Alabama. My next blog will be from Alabama, where I will have a chance to see her perform. I also want to mention her wonderful Alabama Blues Project, but right now I have a million last minute things to do for the trip.

The Little Story that Grew and Grew

I have not been blogging because I've been working on a story I started a few months ago before our trip interrupted it. It's been a surprising experience, this story, in that it has turned into a book instead.

Originally I got the idea as a story for a children, but right away it turned into a picture book. After feedback from my writing group, I addressed things that needed fixing, which made the story grow longer instead of shorter. I decided it must be a picture story book. Then more things needed fixing, which is so often the case in writing and re-writing. It's like jello: You push something in here, something bulges out over there. Again and again, it happens.

Of course, this made the story grow even longer. I think of it as the "little story that grew and grew". It is now a chapter book, 14 chapters long. Who knew?

I'm almost finished with this draft and have every confidence that it won't grow any longer, as the material doesn't really justify a juvenile novel. This is strictly for little kids who read short chapters and like fantasy. But it's been a lot of fun and a pleasant surprise. I'll be looking for chapter book markets next.

A Last Look at Paris -- Palaces

We've been home for almost a week, but Paris still lingers in the mind; especially two palaces we visited: the Louvre and Fontainebleau Chateau. (Fontainebleau is on the left.)

I'd always thought of the Louvre as an art museum -- which it is, and has been, since 1793. But first, it was a palace. And if you look at the enormity of the complex of buildings from across the river, you can see it was a big one. The Louvre is so big, that you can't possibly explore it in one day. Even a week wouldn't be long enough. We went for as much art as we could absorb in one visit. The rooms of paintings and statues were endless. We contented ourselves with seeing lots of Corot's paintings (we've always admired him), some El Grecos and Goyas, Leonardo Da Vinci, of course. Which brings me to the Mona Lisa. It's truly a beautiful and mysterious painting. But some of his other portraits were beautiful and mysterious too. It's interesting how attention will focus on one example of a painter's remarkable art and overshadow all others.

When we got to the statues of antiquity, the marble figures were truly arresting. To think of something sculpted so long ago: figures from every walk of life in olden times, looking so lifelike despite their stone pallor. The Winged Victory, and the Venus de Milo each had their own pride of place, and well they should. Their very postures abound with "story". Who were the models? (Which brings up a bonus from this trip with practical value for me: I can use some of those statue pictures to practice figure drawing.)

The next day we went to Fontainebleau, taking the metro to Gare de Lyon, then the train to the village, about 35 miles from the heart of Paris. My goal for this trip was to see the Fontainebleau Forest, which figures in four of my stories. I wanted to see if I got the ambience and setting right. (I did.) We spent the whole day in Fontainebleau, and decided to take a tour of the castle at its center. First we ate lunch at a good Indian restaurant. Then we walked around the grounds, which went on and on: Gardens , courtyards, parks, small man-made lakes, and a canal, fringed by the forest (which originally was the royal hunting preserve).

Finally we entered the palace -- a palace that makes the Louvre seem small by comparison. Room after room, incredibly decorated, painted, gilded, added to and further embellished, as various kings had their day, including Napoleon when he was emperor. It's a giddy feeling, standing in the living quarters of those who have made history, trying to imagine their lives. Even for those who lived there, ruling or simply taking care of the rulers, I could imagine getting lost on a regular basis. Given the fact that Palace of Versailles is supposed to be bigger and more opulent, and that numerous other palaces abound throughout France, you can understand the French Revolution.

It was a beautiful tour, though, crammed with facts and anecdotes (we had those little wands). We were both glad we went. However, at closing time we almost got locked in because I was still in the chapel, listening to a chamber orchestra practice for some concert. Great accoustics, so you can imagine the size of the chapel.

The next time I read a historical novel based in France, I'll surely have a new appreciation for its setting.

Music in the Metro and the Mystery of Rush Hours

I am used to seeing down and out people in Sacramento trying to panhandle a living on street corners, and Paris had its share of them. But there were also the street musicians who had found they could pick up coins by placing themselves in key locations in the Metro system. (Well, everywhere, really, as in the case of this couple near Montmarte).

One morning we were treated to the haunting violin theme of Albinoni's Adagio, played by a young woman on one of the platforms. Another day, while climbing stairs, we heard the beautiful strains of Bach's Fugue in D Minor echoing through the tunnels and stairwells, sounding like a marvellous pipe organ. To our surprise, when we came upon the young musician, he was playing it on his accordion.

One evening when we were too tired to walk home, we took the metro and two men got on, one with a clarinet, the other with a saxaphone. Suddenly they began playing a jazzy version of Blue Moon, followed by When the Saints Came Marching In, and finally the Hora. Then they walked the aisles, hats out, collected their coins, and got off at the next stop.

Not every musician was so accomplished, I have to say. One afternoon a man got on with his guitar and proceeded to sing-shout-yell in my ear as I hugged my pole, wishing he'd go away. (It was a very crowded train.)

Which brings me to the mystery of rush hours on the Metro: Depending on what time of morning we rode to a museum, the train was always nearly empty: 9:00 a.m., not crowded. 9:30 a.m., not crowded. 10:00, 11:00; not crowded. But, whenever we took an afteroon train home from our ventures, we found ourselves jammed in like sardines. 5:30 or 6:00 p.m., 7:30 or 8:00 p.m., we had to struggle to get on and struggle to get off.

Where did everyone come from on these return trips? WERE they return trips? I'm still pondering this mystery.

Random Thoughts and Some Cautions

We're home again, but I'm still somewhat in Paris. After such immersion for a week, the city still echoes and echoes: Memories of paintings, sculptures, historic buildings, monuments to literary and political figures; outside tables at crowded cafes, book stalls bordering the quay, barges tied up along the banks of the Seine.... It's all there, swirling in my thoughts.

I forgot to mention that Thursday, our last gadabout day, we had a glass of wine at the Deux Magots. The cafe was one of Hemingway's haunts, at the edge of a triangle called Place Sartre-Beauvoir, and across from Le Flore, another literary/artistic hang-out. We stopped by to break the long and hot walk back from Musee d'Orsay through a street lined with art galleries. (Paris has entered its sizzling stage of summer, although the same night there was a loud, intense thunderstorm that rattled our windows before calming down.)

Despite my love of Paris, I think I should mention a few cautionary points for visitors to Paris.

1. You really DO have to beware of pickpockets. Everyone told us this, and we were very careful, but even then, someone managed to pickpocket Rajan near where we stopped for lunch. They probably thought they were getting his wallet, but it was his blackberry, and, thanks to the marvel of cyberspace, Rajan was able to email ATT an hour later and have the account suspended.

2. The museum pass, which sounds so good, is a little tricky. If you like to see a lot of places briefly, a two-day pass, or even a four-day pass is a good buy. If you're like us, and linger over paintings, statues, explanatory plaques, and like to take your time savoring the experience, you're better off buying separate tickets at each museum. Many things worth seeing are free, anyway. And two locations covered by our pass that we had planned to see (the Trocadero Aquarium and the Picasso Museum) were closed for renovation.

3. It's good to get batches of Metro tickets, which come in sets of ten. But for some reason, 6 of the first set we bought didn't work in the machines and had to be re-issued each time at the counter. This was perhaps the only place that I saw Parisians get frosty and unfriendly. Several other tourists were having the same problems with their tickets, and it did not bring out the best in the people behind the counter.

That said, however, generally we found most Parisians gracious and warm. And this was one of the best vacations of my life.