Outside a snow dusting is giving Belfast the patina of fine, old silverware.   Beautiful, to be sure, but I am not wishing for snow – remember the old bumper sticker which proclaimed, “Think Snow!”?  Well, I am thinking Farmers’ Market and warm weather.  Just a few days ago, the Belfast Chamber of Commerce issued its electronic newsletter with its calendar of events – lo and behold, the Farmers’ Market was listed for this Friday.  Wow!  But my spirit was dashed with subsequent notification of an error!

For those of you who eagerly seek the spring, take note.  The Belfast Farmers’ Market opens Friday, May 11, 2012, at the Waterfall Arts on Upper High Street until the last Friday in October. Exception: evert first Friday of the month, the Market is located on Main Street.  Then for November and December, the Market moves to the Aubuchon Hardware store on Rt. 1 towards Camden.

The Belfast Farmers’ Market is a festive event where fresh produce as well as canned, jarred and baked goods, and dairy products can be tasted and purchased.  Our market is a member of the Maine Federation of Farmers’ Markets.

brrrrr,
Diana

The White House Inn

Razorblades

Usually, this space is full of information regarding what to do and where to go in Maine.  Alas, the entry today is about what you missed.  Two weeks ago while on a visit to Washington DC,  I was reading the New York Times of 2 October 2011 in my dad’s kitchen – and came across a story about a decommission of an art work.  In 2006, the city of Portland purchased a piece of sculpture called “Tracing the Fore”; it consisted of a series of wavy-edged stainless steel panels and was installed in Boothby Square near the harbor. Grass planted between the panels was to grow billowy, creating a wave-like effect in the wind. Well, apparently the grass did not cooperate; rather than evoking a nautical visage, the grass and steel panels looked like one big mess, at least to some.

Local Portland residents referred to the sculpture as Razorblades.  This derisive nomenclature called to mind the Victor Emmanuel Monument in Rome – Italians have longed referred to this gigantic structure as the Wedding Cake.  And in my hometown of Washington, we call the Kennedy Center the giant Kleenex box.  Romans and Washingtonians poke fun at their singular monuments but over time have grown accustomed to them and even fond of them.

One hundred and fifty Portland resident signatures on a petition convinced the city to deinstall Razorblades.  Alas, this unusual sculpture did not have the time to bond with its locality.  The art work was purchased for $100 by a local collector who also paid $9k for removal.  The story may not be over!

later,
Diana
The White House Inn

The Gigantic Kleenex Box

The Wedding Cake

Nighthawks

Well, I am trying to draw a parallel with Maine.  This state seems to beckon every reknowned American artist with its pristine shoreline, amazing sunlight effects and undisturbed natural beauty. Edward Hopper, of Nighthawks fame, was no exception.  Bowdoin College, recently in the national news as the most expensive college in the country, is also more happily in the news for its Edward Hopper exhibit, currently on display at its Museum of Art. Bowdoin is located in the lovely town of Brunswick.

A few days ago, Santiago and I visited this excellent exhibit which features 88 Hopper paintings created in Maine – many of them a series of oil sketches made on Monhegan Island 1916-1919. None of the works are owned by the museum; they are owned by 30 different lenders, some private lenders which means that these works are not seen often. Highly recommended is the brief film on Hopper which shows every half hour.  Both the film and the exhibit are free.

Captain Upton's House

Don’t miss this special exhibit which concludes 16 October 2011 — you can get in some leaf peeping at the same time.

cheers,
Diana

The White House Inn

After taking a deep breath, I perused the books already on our library shelves to see if I missed one.  The Lobster Coast by Colin Woodard, 2004, caught my eye and just coincidentally that evening the young man who gave that book to me was coming to dinner, so I plunged in — rather like a chore.  After all reading a book about Maine when you live in Maine is like taking coals to Newcastle.

Not Anna Karenina, but a good read

What a surprise! The book is engagingly written and reveals some astounding historical information and fascinating contemporary facts.  Such as:

*   Monhegan’s intrepid band of lobstermen fish in the deep, ferocious winter;
*   Captain John Smith of Pocahontas fame journeyed to Maine; thereupon, he gave the region its name of “New England”;
*   Long before the Trail of Tears was the Great Dying when the plagues of 1616-1619 (caused by pathogens brought to the New World by Europeans) wiped out huge segments of the native Indians in Maine;
*  Despite the Great Dying, the much-aggrieved Indians rose up in the Great Uprising which lasted almost fifty years until 1726;
*   Maine was a colony of Massachusetts until 1820 when it became a state — all Mainers know this, but I had no clue;
*  A higher proportion of Mainers fought in the Civil War than that of any other Northern state;
*   Canning is not just for sardines – in the late 1800s Maine had 23 lobster canneries but by 1900 there were none;
*   California and other places tried to transplant the Maine lobster – but it never worked.

If I have whetted your appetite and intrigued your mind, grab the book (or borrow my copy) and come on up.

Later
Diana

The White House Inn

Life is good – we spent the month of June in Tuscany where we rented a villa and hosted several couples who signed up for the bella Belast, bella Toscana special.  The first day was filled with sunshine of the indescribable Tuscan kind, so off to the pool I went with my new toy and ready to read the day away.  No one tells you that sun reflection is not good for iPad reading; further being near the water gives me the heebie-jeebies that I will drop the electronic gadget in the pool, and that will be that!  The moral of this story is that hard copy still cannot be beaten.

iPads and Tuscan sun do not mix!

Belfast also holds to this mantra; indeed, Belfastbound is a weekend devoted to books: new, used, rare, all kinds.  With several new book stores opening in our little town, the festival weekend , July 29-31,will celebrate reading, writing and publishing.   Our Inn will participate with personal tours of this 1840 Greek revival manor house and the chance to purchase Historic Maine Homes. Ladies and gentlemen: open your books!

Later,

Diana
The White House Inn

long title and a fascinating read

The panel discussants were four ladies who worked in various poultry processing plants in and near Belfast.  In a nutshell, the ladies, although working long and hard, were grateful for the work,  thought their wages fair, believed their bosses were supportive, and felt the plant and its workers to be one big family.  One lady had previously provided her oral history as a worker in the “blood tunnel” (that would be where she finished off the birds that had been missed by the automatic neck-cutter).  Her history has been preserved in “I Was Content and Not Content”: The Story of Linda Lord and the Closing of Penobscot Poultry. If you must have your own book, Amazon.com still has a supply – next best thing is read our Inn’s newly acquired copy.

a sardine by any other name.....

The sardine business closed a little later in 2001, and just this year the processing plant on the waterfront in Belfast was torn down to make way for the more tony pleasure boat building enterprise.  A few weeks ago, we visited the Portland Museum of Art; after strolling through the permanent collection with its fair sampling of Impressionism and a few John Singer Sargents (my personal favorite), we came across a special exhibit containing a large white board with about fifty empty sardine cans glued onto it.  (At this point, Santiago is looking at me and I can read his thoughts …”If I can do this….”  you know the rest).   What was educative was the text next to the sardine can board which explained that sardines are not a fish per se but consist of any of 21 different species, all of which are small and oily.  So I cannot say which species of fish was canned in Belfast as a sardine, I can state that all Maine’s sardine plants and canneries are now closed.  Next time you buy a can of sardines, see its country of origin and what’s in the can.

Later,
Diana
The White House Inn

Anyway, The NYT has a daily summary page about the goings on in the various Middle Eastern countries — Algeria made this summary once, maybe two days.  The country is actually quite stable and open, and they have had a whole gaggle of presidents since their independence from the colonizing power, France, back in the 1960s.  Remember de Gaulle and the existentialist Camus (“Mama died today.  Or maybe it was yesterday”). Sorry, sometimes I have a huge urge to put my liberal education to use – or at least on display!  Anyway, Algeria possesses a charming combination of things French (think baguettes) and things Moslem, and boasts a beautiful Mediterranean coast.  It is an undiscovered tourist venue.

Interior of an Algerian Mosque

Meet me at the Casbah

Famous Roman Ruins at Tipaza on the Mediterranean

The Arab Spring may be drawing to a close but there is still plenty of time to capture the Maine Spring.  Come on by and we’ll show you more pictures.

adieu,
Diana
The White House Inn

Through the Big Brother-Big Sister organization, I have become a Big Sister to a young girl from Searsport.  On April 3, we attended a concert of the Penobscot Bay Singers held at The First Church in Belfast; performed were three choral works by Johannes Brahms.  For those musically educated, the pieces were Two Motets, Opus 29, and Nanie, Opus 82.  The concert was majestic and uplifting; although my little and I understood not a word sung (well, it was in German), we felt the stirring beauty of the music.

The Penobscot Bay Singers dot the Mid-Coast with these gems of concerts throughout the year and have been doing so for over thirty years.  Our concert also included several songs by the outstanding Mount View Chamber Singers — including Smoke Gets in Your Eyes and Elijah Rock.  I am happy to report that these lyrics were perfectly clear!

The Man Himself: Johannes Brahms

Let the Music Begin,

Diana
The White House Inn

Surprisingly, Maine boasts seven art museums.  A sojourn with great panache would trace the Maine Art Museum Trail to include the Bates College Museum of Art in Lewiston, the Bowdoin College Museum of Art in Brunswick, the Colby College Museum of Art in Waterville, the Farnsworth Art Museum in Rockland, the Oguinquit Museum of American Art, the Portland Museum of Art, and the University of Maine Museum of Art in Bangor.

These museums display works by artists who were inspired by Maine as well as renowned masters, such as Degas, Renoir and Picasso.  We attended a special exhibit on Robert Indiana at the Farnsworth.  Mr. Indiana now lives in Maine — by the way, that is not his real name – he changed it to something everyone could remember.  If you read this post, you will now remember Robert Indiana as the artist who painted LOVE.  If you don’t recall the painting, I am sure you remember the stamp – a lot of brides used it for their wedding invites.

Robert Indiana's LOVE

All in all, I believe the best bangs for the buck are the art museums at private colleges – the art building is usually very appealing, the art is given by wealthy alumni, there are few visitors so you can allow a piece to speak to you for hours on end and no one will care, and the museums generally are free to encourage those few visitors.

Think ART,
Diana

The White House Inn

Santiago and I spent Christmas in Egypt, nonchalantly sailing north, down the Nile.  (This may sound confusing but it’s nothing compared to lower and upper Egypt.  Lower Egypt is the Delta area abutting the Mediterranean Sea whereas Upper Egypt is the southern end.)   A few days later, we visited the Great Pyramids at Giza and even climbed down a narrow passageway into the burial chamber — every step down was accompanied by a mental reminder that nothing has caved in over the past five thousand years.  On 29 December we bid farewell to the land of Nerfertiti (my favorite Queen – she happened to make absent a woman who bore a son for her husband  - the boy became King Tut but that is another story).  We left Egypt in the nick of time, which was all the time we needed.

Egypt in Quieter Times

Later,
Diana
The White House Inn