Personal & Pleasure
Personal
In talking about work, I did mention getting up early. I should add that I get up at 6.00AM precisely; the digital numbers on the alarm must show that exact time. I do not need an alarm buzzer to wake me but I need the time. I will only get up on the hour, half or quarter hour. If I miss the hour, then I wait until quarter past. Happily, this habit does not apply to naps; I can fall off and wake up at any time! Do not ask why; just one of many idiosyncrasies? I am Welsh and superstitious. I come from the land of the wizard Merlin and the Black Prince, lost forever in the mists of Snowdonia. I touch wood; will not go under ladders; toss spilt salt over my left shoulder; try to avoid travel on Friday the Thirteenth; and hope that a black cat crosses my path?!
In high school, the history teacher once explained to my class how our superstitions and swear words were derived. The habit of touching wood comes from the cross on which the Lord was crucified; salt was rubbed by Roman soldiers into the wound. The word “Bloody” comes from the blood of Christ, on the cross, and should never be used. The history teacher went on to admonish us boys never to use the Lord’s name in vain. Unfortunately, the word “Bloody” along with “Bugger” are the most frequently used words in the English language. Strange how a teacher’s words can stay with you forever?
I have found that I have students that tell me they remember my words to them?! The most recent was from a pupil that I taught in a secondary school in Wales. Nidrel Walsh wrote to say that he had become a pilot in the Royal Air Force; flying Vulcans and Nimrods. He then went on to University and studied psychology; a field in which he has practiced for the past twenty years. Coming from a secondary modern, not a high school, his achievements are remarkable. I have written him in hope of remembering this lad from fifty years ago. His email came as a result of seeing my website; in this way, I have heard from other friends in the UK. Nidrel ends by saying, “I still paint in the way you taught us at Heolgam and I am pleased that you are still around and enjoying life, albeit in America.”!
Over the years, I have kept in touch with students from the Corcoran and Cranbrook. Years ago, as Dean of the Corcoran School of Art, I was in my office meeting with a visitor. The door knocked, a student entered, knelt and took my hand. He kissed my ring saying, “Holiness, will you honor me with your presence in my studio?” The student rose, bowed and left my office. The visitor was nonplussed; I reassured him that all of the students did this. Of course that was not true; only the Mad Hungarian, Janos Enyedi. To this day, he addresses me as “Holiness”; Agnes is “Mother Superior” and his wife Diana “The Kaiserina”. We exchange emails regularly, at least a few every week; discussing art and life. Janos is my constant correspondent; in 2006, we visited him in Virginia at his Furnace Road Studio. From his student days, his abilities and work have always impressed. The industrial collages and constructions of Janos Enyedi are to de admired; as are his recent digital prints, colorful and composed, of tugboats and bridges. The Mad Hungarian looks the part; with huge and flourishing handlebar mustache, piercing eyes and resonant voice.
My voice is more resonant and loud; I have discussed that but not my appearance. As a child, during the Blitz, I had the nightly argument with my mother. I did not want to go to the air raid shelter with my pajamas showing beneath my shorts. I was not so fussy in my student days; wearing paint stained and torn clothes. No jeans in those days but corduroy; my trousers too short, worn at half mast. I was a Bohemian; I had no interest how I looked. In the Army, I had no choice; from beret to buttons to boots: everything had to be perfect. Daily and constant dress inspection made sure of that. I pressed my trousers myself, always to a sharp crease; a habit to this day. Although now living in Florida, shorts and tee shirt are my daily dress. When I left the Army, I got my first suit; then I bought blazer and grays. I was getting dress conscious but flamboyantly so! I wore colorful ties and a silk pocket handkerchief; a conceit that I continued throughout my life. At the Corcoran, I liked colorful flowered ties; my dress varied. In the studio, I wore denim jeans, paint stained. An invitation, to a show of my paintings at the Jefferson Place Gallery, showed me in my different dress. Four photographs presented me in suit, tux, jeans and shorts; representing the many facets of my life, from director to artist. The tuxedo became a necessary part of my wardrobe; with ruffled shirts and colorful cumber bands. I always was distinctive?!
As ever, I digress; back to personal matters but not too personal. When I was a young boy, I was with my mother, waiting at a bus stop. She asked, ‘What is the number of that bus?” I responded, “What bus?” We were waiting for a double decker! My mother realized that I needed to have my eyes tested; I did and was found to be short sighted. Ever since, I have worn glasses. Initially, I would put them in the top pocket of my blazer; I was young and self conscious. I did not like being called “Four Eyes”. After loosing a few pair of glasses, my mother suggested that I keep them where they should be; on my head. I did so and have done so ever since. How many spectacles have been worn, broken, lost, sat on, discarded, thrown away and replaced; who knows? The changing fashions and improvements have been tried; never contact lenses nor laser surgery. I am too used to wearing glasses; now clear and transitional lenses with titanium stems. Light and easy to wear, unlike the big owl glasses or heavy tortoiseshell that I have worn; I like my new glasses. As I write this, a email popped up offering easy, safe and low cost Lasik surgery. Is there a Big Brother out there in cyberspace?
When I left the Army, I grew a beard; I have never shaven since. I have had a beard for fifty two years; I am very attached to it and it to me?! At first, I had a Van Dyck; required daily trimming. By the time that I came to America, I had a full beard. I do shave daily and trim weekly; enough of that! My hair has been curly and wavy forever; unruly may be the word? As an art student unkempt may have been more apt; the army changed that, as I was shaven to the skull. My hair was dark and curly; now white and wavy. With my blue eyes, a gift from my mother; wasted on a boy said she?!
My adult height has been at 6’1’’; I am tall. Recently, I was measured by a nurse who pronounced that I was six foot and half an inch. I protested vigorously; she was adamant, stating that, with old age, we shrink a little?! I wish the same could be said of weight but, sadly, with age, comes ‘the battle of the bulge’. When in my twenties, I was ‘skin and bones’. During my first year in America, that changed dramatically. In the land of the Big Burger and 51 Flavors, with delights denied me as a Blitz kid, I put on weight immediately. The ‘battle’ continues to this day as I try to keep my weight down to 195 lbs; my doctor would like ten or more less than that. Ah well, I try to eat less and exercise more. Walking has been, always, a daily pleasure.
Pleasure
My boyhood friend was Michael Lewis; he and I lived on the same street; a few houses apart. We went through the Blitz together; went to different schools but stayed close friends, even through my college days. From the beginning of our friendship, we liked to walk. Every Sunday afternoon, for hour after hour, we would walk the streets and docks of Cardiff. These walks went on until I went in the Army; there I was doing forced walks and combat courses. After those military days, I returned to Cardiff; Michael and I continued those Sunday walks for a few more years. By then, we had added beer drinking to our pleasures; we walked and visited many a pub. More of pub walk than a pub crawl, we got to know the joys of many hostelries!
In America, in those first few weeks, I walked the streets of Manhattan and do so to this day. In Washington DC, I walked in Georgetown, along the canal and the paths of Great Falls. At Cranbrook, as I have said, I walked the grounds early, every morning. In Florida, Agnes and I walk daily; she enjoys walking as much as I do. Our usual routine is to leave early in the morning to walk along the beaches of the Gulf; out on the pier; by boats at dock; across the causeway and bridge. The walks are endless and varied; always beneficial and beautiful.
In my youth, I had habits that were not beneficial. Among pleasures are found vices; isn’t that the story of life? I did smoke; starting in college and then the Army. I referred to myself as an ‘evening smoker’; I liked a cigarette with a drink. I smoked menthol cigarettes but could not smoke and work. I did not like to smoke outside in the fresh air or during the day. I wonder why I ever smoked, never liked smoking? I gave up twenty five years ago; easy to do as young John would roll around on the floor coughing whenever I lit up! I went ‘cold turkey’ and did the same with liquor; like cigarettes, never did like the taste! Nowadays, beer and wine will suffice. Non alcoholic beer prevents putting on weight; I had drunk enough beer in the pubs of Britain. For wine, our preference is French; an ordinary dry red table wine is fine. As we get older, we try and do eat less. Our morning starts with cereal and we like eggs for lunch; daughter Anne says we are the only people she knows that have two breakfasts a day? When dining out, our favorite food is Indian; not easy to find outside the big city. During the summer, the farm on Shelter Island provides abundance of veggies and berries; with fish from the occasional fishing trip on Peconic Bay.
Over the years, Agnes and I have fished from Michigan to the Bahamas. In Michigan, we fished for walleye and perch; in New York, for flounder and blues; in Key West, for grouper and yellowtail; and, in Florida, for Spanish mackerel and sheepshead. Actually, we have not got into fishing that much since moving to the Gulf. However, we have been fishing off Key West and throughout the Bahamas with Captain Frank Piku. He and his wife, Shirley, are our dear friends that we met in Michigan; they are art collectors. Their homes in Pontiac and Key West have fine works of art; including one of my paintings! Shirley is active in the art world whereas Frank is an extraordinary fisherman; recently he became a charter captain. What adventures we have had with them. Shirley and Frank would fly to meet us on our boat ‘Lady A’; we have cruised together in the Caribbean, Chesapeake and Gulf. I have fished with Frank in the Bahamas from Walker Cay to the Eleuthera; Agnes joined us on some of those tropical trips. Nowadays, we visit Shirley and Frank in Key West for arty parties and fishing; at Miami Beach Art Basel, we meet them for camaraderie and culture!
As always when fishing, many a tale is to be told, few to be believed? Of course, ours are true! When fishing with Captain Frank Piku, we chum as chumming attracts the big fish. Chumming is the act of putting fish mush in the water to attract fish. The chum can be fish ends or bait, cut and mashed up; dragged along in a mesh bag or thrown overboard from a bucket. The blood and guts can create a feeding frenzy and bring big fish. Agnes was throwing chum overboard and then lent over the side to wash her hands in the ocean. Captain Frank stopped her quickly as chumming attracts sharks; always wash your hands aboard the boat not in the sea! Sure enough later, a big fish was caught; the line strained then sagged. A large fish head was reeled aboard; a shark had taken the rest of the fish, better a fish than a hand?!
When fishing in the Bahamas, the same thing happened to me; I snagged a fish but brought in only the head. The next cast, I caught the culprit, a large barracuda. When on a fishing trip in Mexico, I had learned how to smoke or barbeque barracuda; so I cooked and ate the barracuda that had eaten my fish, poetic justice?! Much better fish to eat are walleye, which we caught in Michigan. In front of our cottage on Harsens Island was the St Clair River; the freighter channel and great walleye run. We would motor up stream and drift down, catching endless walleye; enough fish to freeze and last thru the winter months. On one occasion, the winds were wrong, our drift stalled in front of a neighbor’s house. He came down, an objectionable person, and starting yakking and yelling at Agnes and me. We were caught not the fish?!
Recently, on a trip to Key West, Captain Frank invited me to be his mate on a fishing charter. I had to cut bait; bait hooks; clean up; pull the anchor; and swab the decks. We cruised out many miles to one of Captain Frank’s favorite fishing holes; we were fishing for grouper. Like the captain, as mate, I dropped in a line, over 60’ down. I pulled in grouper after grouper, all long enough to be keepers. No one else was catching; I brought in the boat’s limit of six keeper groupers within as many minutes. Not what a mate is supposed to do with paying clients. Captain Frank admitted rarely, if ever, that many keeper grouper are caught so quickly; ‘twas my day?! Another good day was fishing with our son Chuck in Peconic Bay, off Jessup Point. Chuck is a fly fisherman, even in the ocean; I am a traditional fisherman. On this occasion, I used artificial lures that I threw out; skimming the surface as I reeled in. I caught two huge blue fish; our catch for the day. The photograph exists of us holding these fish; caught by the old man of the sea?!
Another story of the sea concerns not fishing but Art Basel. Last December, 2007, we were meeting Frank and Shirley Piku at Miami Beach Art Basel. As usual, Shirley was organizing the trip; she selected endless openings, exhibitions and events. Agnes and I went to a few; on this occasion, I found something that interested us. On the internet, I read an announcement: “World’s First Art Fair Mega Yacht joins Miami’s Art Fair Season”. Launching the December Miami art fair season, SeaFair offers a Collector’s Champagne reception on Friday, Nov. 30…….the art world’s most exclusive venue – a purposely built 228’ foot mega yacht will be docked at the Miami Beach Marina. The announcement went on to describe the 26 gallery spaces and international dealers, presenting outstanding art and renowned artists. A restaurant “Sapore” offered fine cuisine and we were advised to make reservations; I did for the four of us.
At the Miami Beach Convention Center, I asked the Art Basel receptionists about ‘SeaFair’; no one had heard of this floating art gallery! However, when making reservations, I had given my cell phone number to the ‘Sapore’ restaurant; they had phoned that evening to confirm that we were coming? Frank Piku drove to the marina; there were signs and valet parking. A golf cart shuttle took us to the huge mega yacht; we went up the gangplank. Once aboard, we were warmly welcomed, photographed by security and issued plastic membership cards. We wandered thru lush galleries, with museum quality art, and elegant dealers but no people. Indeed, the dealers far exceeded the visitors that evening; only a few guests, besides the four of us? The artists were Modern Masters and Contemporary American including Braque, Calder, Chamberlain, Lichenstein, Monet, Prendergast, Picasso, Renoir, Rodin, Stella and Warhol. The dealers were eager to talk to us, disappointed by the lack of visitors, let alone possible clients? Some dealers expressed puzzlement as to why they were there? The art was excellent, beautifully presented in lavish surroundings but no viewers; most odd.
We wandered up through the decks, now galleries, to the restaurant ‘Sapore’; again we were warmly welcomed, the only diners aboard. Later, some dealers came but just three tables out of forty were taken, including ours. The surroundings were lavish, like the galleries below. With wood and brass, the dining room was most nautical and classy; views of big boats and marina lights. The food was exquisite and expensive; the service perfect. We left ‘SeaFair’, no golf cart in sight; we walked to the Piku’s car, valet parkers had gone. The car was locked; we took taxis, an ignominious ending to a peculiar evening.
The next day, Frank did retrieve his keys; Agnes and I went back aboard. We were curious. Our lunch was a shared sandwich, $26 from the Bistro; we sat on the back deck with great views of the marina, boats and Miami. Again, we talked with dealers, now frustrated and angry; still only a few visitors. I talked to crew members who said the boat wasn’t seaworthy; had difficulties with ballast and balance; and had problems since launching. On returning home to Clearwater, we received an invitation to a fundraiser aboard ‘SeaFair’. The event to be held at Sarasota Marina was for the Ringling Museum of Art. The invitation was elegant and exquisite but came to naught. A few weeks later, an apologetic letter admitted to problems that caused cancellation of the event. In every way, ‘SeaFair” appeared lost at sea?!
Back to pastimes, as well as walking, we like to bike and play golf. Less active a pastime is watching sports on TV; I am a ‘football freak’ and enjoy soccer and football. British soccer is now available on cable and, of course, there are endless NFL games to watch. I do prefer college football. Agnes will watch with me when the Wolverines play; we are University of Michigan fans. With the DVR and ability to record games, I no longer have to be a slave to the box. I can watch whenever I want and fast forward at will; but the Wolverines must be viewed ‘live’; Go Blue!
Agnes introduced me to golf; she taught me “head down and eye on the ball.” I enjoy golf courses, manmade and manicured; always visually pleasing. We have played on courses from Canada to the Bahamas; I am more into views and vistas than the game. Agnes and I have watched professional games on courses with spectacular views from Kapalua to Torrey Pines. In Florida, we prefer to play the shorter and less demanding executive courses; of which there are many. Always something to do; how did we ever fit work into our crowded schedules? I do make time for writing and painting!
In recent years, boating has become one of our shared pleasures; Agnes and I became boaters together. We bought a boat then a bigger boat and a bigger boat; that’s what happens to boaters! We started with a 21’ power boat and ended with a 40’ cruiser, ‘Lady A’. At Cranbrook, I had the month of July off, giving us the opportunity to cruise the Great Lakes in our 32’ power boat, ‘Lady Blue’. After leaving Cranbrook, we lived and cruised aboard ‘Lady A’ for six years; tales to be told later. Nowadays, we have our 17’ boat in Clearwater; where boating is one of the attractions, as are the beaches.
I have always liked to live near water. Wales has an imposing and rugged coastline with beaches of sand or pebble; towering cliffs; jagged rocks; sand dunes; hidden coves; inlets and rivers. The tides are extreme; low tide leaves boats lying helpless in the mud while waves come crashing in at high tide. The waters can be rough and the currents treacherous. Beaches have always been a source of curiosity; when a child, the rock pools were an endless fascination. Today, on the Gulf, with the best beaches ever, Agnes and I collect shells; enjoy the wildlife; watch out for storms; and walk with wonderment. In awe of the majesty of nature, we admire an exquisite shell while looking at the towering clouds, reflected in the ever changing waters of the Gulf.
Summer 2008
We are on Shelter Island NY for summer; very different from the Gulf. The island is known as the “Rock”; hilly and picturesque and quaint with many inlets and creeks. Our cottage is on our elder son Chuck's weekend farm; fields and trees and green!
On Monday July 14, I was ‘75 years young’; a Bastille boy! The previous Saturday was my birthday dinner prepared by younger son John, who got live lobsters and steaks for a sumptuous meal of ‘surf and turf’. His wife, Margo baked a birthday cake with candles arranged to read ‘75’. A memorable feast on the farm with family and our young grandchildren, Charles & Clara; the perfect way to celebrate 75 years!
On Monday night, July 14, Agnes and I had dinner on the island to celebrate not only my birthday but our 25 marvelous and magical years together! More happy days!
(SI 07/29/08)