I was so worried about the branch, I didn’t notice the tree.
It felt like the start of a typical day at my little Gallery Café on Mayne Island: get up at 7:15, throw legs over side of bed, attach clothing, make bed, wander around the gallery yawning and stretching, make a cup of coffee, cut up and eat an apple, prepare two large containers of coffee, make sure all baked goods are displayed nicely, sweep the floors, turn on a little music, and then – usually around 8:30, if time permits – sit on the comfy couch with my second cup of coffee and remaining apple pieces, open up my laptop, and immerse myself in the misery & trivia of the world.
Sip sip, nibble nibble, “Hmmm, I wonder what’s going on overseas?” scroll, select, click, “God, that’s just horrifying! That’s too depressing to look at.”… “I wonder what’s going on down south?” scroll, select, click, “Oh God, how is that even possible? How can he continue to get away with that shit?” “Hmmm, that was a soul-sucking experience, maybe a little Social Media,” flip, select, scroll, scroll, scroll, “Hmm…that’s banal…that’s useless…Jesus, so much advertising,” delete, delete, delete, “hmm…friends on vacation👍…oh, somebody famous died😢…forgettable bits of personal growth “meme advice”🤔 …oh look, haha! A cat running around in a batman costume!” 😆 Sip, gulp, sip, nibble, giggle, nibble.
And then… cccCCCCCCRRRRAAACCCKKK SSMMAASSHH!!!
My little building is surrounded by trees. Most of them are far enough away to provide ample light, and safety from, these giant majestic creatures. But there are 4 massive beasts which are tall enough and heavy enough which, if they released their grip on the earth, could come hurtling down and make matchsticks of the Gallery, and pudding of myself.
I have been in the vicinity of several tree crashes in my dozen years on Mayne Island and it always starts with the initial “crack” which grows in intensity – depending on the girth of the tree and the trajectory of its fall. Upon hearing this sound, our innate reptilian fear mechanism triggers an immediate sharpening of the senses, with a quick hunch, head spin, and echolocation to determine – in very short order – if we are going to die or if we have time for a second cup of coffee.
Ka thump!Rumblerustle rustle rustle…
Hmmm, dodged another one, I wonder if there’s one out there with my name on it? Maybe I’ll have a refill and go out into the yard and see what happened.
Realizing that the peril of imminent crushing is not happening, the reptile scurries back into his cave to await the next fear trigger.
Exiting the front door, I could see right away that it wasn’t one of the four old-growth fir trees that worried me most, and that none of my immediate neighbours had been pancaked. “Must be in the back yard,” I thought.
Wandering around the side of the gallery – coffee cup in hand – and venturing into the back yard, I immediately came upon the scene of the accident. Although it was a lovely warm day in August, with not a hint of wind, one of the old, gorgeous 40 or 50-foot-tall maples had decided to call it a day and come crashing down to earth. Its 2- or 3-foot-wide trunk and broad canopy fell across a well-used path that all of we occupants used regularly, and landed within 30 or 40 feet of my Gallery Café, and my little outdoor garden. Luckily, there but for the grace of God (and the seeming randomness of events) no one was hurt – and it even had the decency to avoid crushing our compost container, which would have been tragic.
Placing my coffee cup on top of the compost lid and waving away the little fruit flies – always a futile gesture – I wandered over to the mass of branches, limbs and trunks to get a closer look at the debris field for causes and results.
“Hmmm, looks like it broke off right at the base and has left its sister trunk still standing,” I thought. The “sister” was an equally imposing giant maple joined at a shared 6-foot-wide mother base, leaning perilously toward neighbour Billie’s cabin. Getting down on hands and knees and navigating through the tangle of branches and shattered limbs I could see what appeared to be a large hollow cavity inside the trunk, filled with rot and the remains of an abandoned beehive, which must’ve contributed to the collapse.
And of course, no amateur arborist report would be complete nowadays without a few snaps from the iPhone:
Turning now to the debris field and the mass of leaves, twigs, and branches which blocked our access to the lower part of the property, I thought, “Gee this is going to be a big cleanup, lots of time, toil and tools, I’d better call Dave.” We tenants of the property are lucky to have Dave & Eva as landlords, luckier still that they were both over on Mayne spending a little time on their 10-acre parcel of waterfront bliss. But managing a large chunk of land is not a walk in the park – so to speak – as there are always chores and work to be done. This new, unexpected problem was but one example.
After calling Dave, who assured me he’d come up directly with some appropriate tools and tackle the problem, I stood for one last look at this majestic, fallen tree, which I’d watched through 12 years of seasons from my kitchen window, when it dawned on me…the Widowmaker is gone!
A widowmaker (or “Fool Killer” as Mr. Google also calls them🤣) is a term used to describe a broken branch that is suspended in the air and stuck on a part of another tree. I learned this term from my brief stint working for Macmillan Bloedel, in Port Hardy back in the 70’s. These branches can be extremely dangerous and can fall at any time posing a lethal threat to anyone who might be standing underneath. I became aware of the widowmaker, hanging off this maple tree, when I first arrived on the property 12 years prior, and always made a point of pointing it out to anyone using the trail or doing work in the vicinity.
I would miss that old beautiful maple…but at least the widowmaker is gone🙏
And, true to form, Industrious Dave came – armed only with a saw – and proceeded to remove all the debris that was blocking our communal path. A beautiful fall bonfire awaits, and as Billie observed, a lovely supply of free firewood to keep her warm during those chilly winter nights
It’s October 10, 2024 and I’ve wrapped up my busy summer season at Shavasana Gallery & Café (https://shavasana.ca/2024/10/07/end-of-summer-season-wrap-up-reflections-projections/). As seems to be the case during these last 4 or 5 years (of an 11-year journey on Mayne Island – Pandemic closures notwithstanding), I’ve created a seasonal rhythm which comprises of a rather intense (for me at least, as a lazy & easily distracted 69-year old) May thru October “busy season” at the Gallery Café, and then a slower Fall/Winter season where I can dedicate more time to my wife Cathy, my son Cameron & his family (including a soon-to-be 2-year-old Grandson), my Vancouver friends, and……..my creative process.
Everything I now refer to as my “Creative Process” (Mask Making: https://clayandbone.com/portfolio/ , The Accidental Curator podcast: https://www.theaccidentalcurator.ca/ , writing: https://clayandbone.com/category/words-stories-journals/ , or sequel to my “All Roads at Any Time” book: https://clayandbone.com/book-all-roads-at-any-time/ )pretty much happens during this slower season. Although I still produce the occasional mask and bang out 2 or 3 podcasts during this period, most of my creative energy has been focussed on writing – which was moving along quite well last November thru April with 10 short stories “in the hopper” for a Volume 2 of “All Roads at Any Time”…but then the busy season hit and everything was put on hold.
Sorry to be boring you with all these mundane details of my process, but part of this effort is designed to help me break through my current “post busy-season inertia”…I view this blog/journal post as a sketch before I recommence painting – a writing exercise, as it were, to get the keyboard fingers, the brain, and the focus working together.
Inertia can be defined as passivity, but I know that my problem runs deeper than that – it contains an active element of avoidance or procrastination. And now, combined with all the troubling & worrisome geo/politico/enviro issues besetting us in these times, and the plethora of devices giving us constant internet access, with countless media sources and their polarizing opinion factories, it’s no wonder that a fella might be feeling – if not neurotic, anxious or depressed – at least a little bit……off. 🤔 I know that it’s necessary to discard these toxic distractions, roll up the sleeves, break through the inertia, and get back to “Plan ABC”…my writing gig. And, although I truly enjoy writing – once I’m engaged in a particular story or blog article – the transition from “Frenetic Curator Barista” to deeply reflective wordsmith takes a little time and patience, and warm-up exercises, like writing this blog.
And it’s always a little strange writing on this Journal/Blog because I rarely know if I’m reaching anyone. It’s like busking on the shoulder of Hwy I up the Fraser Canyon, outside of Spuzzum, as the cars and Semis go whizzing by. I know that a number of you have “signed up”, but I don’t follow my stats (although WordPress sends me updates), nor do I spend time or energy actively promoting this website (SEO & such, unless I’ve just written a new short story – then perhaps a little social media flurry will follow). My Podcast is a little easier to track, because I see the number of people that have downloaded it whenever I access the Podbean host site…currently fluctuating between 50 – 100ish listeners (topping out at 161 with my Famous Empty Sky interview: https://www.theaccidentalcurator.ca/e/episode-3-famous-empty-sky-interview/) My book has been easier to track because I’m directly involved with “Sales & Distribution”…luckily, and unlike most authors, I have an Art Gallery Café (https://shavasana.ca/ ) where I can sell my book, plus an Amazon presence & a Bookstore ( https://booksonmayne.com/ ), and to-date, have sold about 160 copies. I have zero expectations and am happy with all of this, because I enjoy the process.👍😊
For the past 11 years – the length of time I’ve been commuting from Tsawassen Ferry Terminal to Mayne Island and back – I’ve been keeping a Journal. I usually write on the hour-and-a-half trip back, keeping a record of my weekend Shavasana Gallery & Café activities, and my entries usually start with “…on the ferry to Tsawassen”. To date, I’ve filled 4 notebooks, and have switched to WordDocs recently to save lugging books around and writing longhand. So, although I’m not currently on “the ferry to Tsawassen” (I’m at my neighbourhood Starbucks in Kitsilano sipping a Tall Dark) and this is not a WordDoc, and it’s no longer October 10th (it’s the 12th), I’m going to treat this blog like a stream-of-consciousness journal entry with some thoughts, feelings, observations & experiences – a “further on down the road” snapshot, since I last did a similar, journal-type entry in January ’22.( https://clayandbone.com/2022/01/17/well-that-didnt-happen/ )
I’ve noticed, lately, that when asked, “Hey, how you doin’?” I’ve found myself oft replying, “Well, it’s a little bit of “The Good, the Bad & the Ugly”. Life feels very complex these days and “Pretty good how ’bout you?”, doesn’t seem to cut it and even feels like a brush-off. (Maybe that’s why people have stopped asking!🤣) One thing I have learned is to always try and find gratitude, even when things seem “Bad or Ugly” (and this seems particularly germane today as it is now October 14 – Thanksgiving Day🙏) Despite this positive affirmation, we are still – seemingly – in a challenging, multi-polarized, historical moment, which calls out for help…and I feel at a loss to genuinely know what to do. Of course, my AA brethren would direct me to Reinhold Niebuhr’s “Serenity Prayer”, which begins: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change…”
Ok…I’m rambling, and here’s a peek into my “post-busy-season” brainfocus – it’s now October 17, I started this “exercise” a week ago and its taken me 7 days to write 7 paragraphs. No, I haven’t been sitting in front of a computer sweating over this piece for 7 days…I’ve been quite busy. Although I’m not enamoured of the preceding paragraph, I’m going to leave it in, because the purpose of this Journal/Blog was not to create a lengthy avoidance project and editing nightmare but to get back to the short story I started in April, called “Anarchist Ridge.”
Before that however, I do want to dedicate a little energy to my journalling process, and try and capture some of “The Good, the Bad & the Ugly.” of the past 6 months through a few photos I’ve taken. If you follow my Shavasana website, or Facebook account you may have seen some of these photos posted recently…and wow! look at that! It’s now October 23rd, and I’m just returning to this Journal post that I thought I was going to wrap up last week😆…yet again, I have been too busy to write, having spent the last 5 days travelling to and from Mayne Island and running Shavasana Art Gallery Café…ok, I think I am now officially blethering – combining tedium with insignificance in a particularly George Bathgate way…bring on some photos!
“The Office”
This is where I am currently sitting – the Starbucks at the corner of Balaclava & Broadway in Kitsilano – “my office”…I love the light, the good energy & the coffee
The Good – in no particular order
The Good Friends & Family:
An assortment of friends and family – this year was a little different because of visits from friends from my deep past, many of whom I hadn’t seen in decades: Best pal Herbie from Grade 1; my German friend Christiana whom I met in Crete in 1974; High School friends Eric & Kathy; and and old girlfriend Susan from the late 70’s.
The Good Music:
A fabulous year of jamming – summers on the porch, inside on the colder windier days. With a few performances thrown in for good measure: “Hrothgar & Heshedahl” on the porch & The Stones at BC Place Stadium with my son in June
The Good Neighbours:
Neighbours Justine, Billie and WT Collinson (the original colonist settler of Miner’s Bay, his first nations wife and 3 of their children) – with whom I share the magic & beauty of this 10 acre waterfront property on Miner’s Bay
The Generosity:
I am genuinely humbled by the kindness and generosity of my community – special thanks to Esnie & Joseph, Margaret & Andrea, Fil, Stephen & Joyce, Bill, Bob, Billie, Kathleen, Empty Sky & Jim, Gail, Katherine, Vicki & Harold, Allen & Kim, Keith & Alicia, Brenda, Dave & Kelly & Michael (and to those I have missed) for: Fruit of all kinds; decadent yummy treats from the market; salmon, venison, shrimp, corn, vegetables; Chicken Soup, bread & rice to tide me over while I had Covid; 3 books authored by Island Writers: Joseph Loh, Jeremy Borsos & John O’Brien; preserves – jams & chutneys; Bouquets galore; people who offer their assistance & time – babysitting Shavasana while I’m gone, fixing two lamps, constructive advice, car repairs…etc, etc; hand made cards – including a string of 17 very thoughtful, hand-made song-lyric cards, by Mary, to give away as mementos to guests; plus, arts & crafts, and – perhaps best of all – a set of knee pads from my landlord! (No, it’s not what you think – it’s to make gardening easier🤣)
The Beautiful
I woke up recently, aware of the many blessings in my life, some of which are included in this series of photos – the vistas, the flowers, the art in my Gallery, my beautiful & bright wife Cathy…and a few others which have given me joy this year but need a little ‘splainin’: my new book “All Roads at Any Time” displayed on the Ferry and in the Library; my son Cam, wife Nekita & Grandson Mateo at the Japanese Garden in winter; and the new pie shop in my neighbourhood – I like pie🥧😋
The Animal Friends…
I find that the arrival of animals of all varieties – mammal, amphibian, avian, and even insect – brings an element of joy and good energy into my life. Shavasana Gallery & Café is welcoming to all such creatures(well, with the exception of the last 3 major infestations of carpenter ants, caterpillars, and wasps!), and I’m especially delighted when friends – or strangers- show up with their dogs or cats…or frogs! (I always keep a good supply of treats for any of our furry friends) Cathy and I adopted a very small squirrel – Alvina – in Kitsilano, and fed her until she headed off, presumably to start her own family🙏
OK…that’s it for George’s treacly reflections on the pleasantries of life, all of which are moments plucked from the past 6 or 7 months. As I do this “Good, Bad & Ugly” overview, I’m struck by the much larger occurrence of things considered “Good” (for which I am grateful) vs “The Bad & The Ugly” (which follows) – this is a blessing for sure, however, I realize that I’m not including bad & ugly things which are occurring globally and which can (and do) have an impact on all of our mental and emotional well-being. Or, the situational and emotional events which happen to friends and family – which are hard to express in photos – yet can still impact our well-being if we are at all compassionate or empathetic. Anyways! Bring on the Bad & Ugly!
The Bad!
I realize that most of “The Bad” during this period was situational, subjective and transitory – and I feel lucky that it wasn’t “Badder”😊 – but it seems that a lot of the good is too, and that bad has the ability to arrive like and unwanted guest…and never leave: Petting a dog vs. terminal health diagnosis🤔…: A faithful kettle breaking at an inopportune moment; discovering a mysterious wound gushing blood while waiting for the Expo Line; the reliable Safari Van needing a tow off-island for expensive repairs; disruptive trail construction in front of Shavasana; Covid & self-isolation; unexpected high blood-pressure results; floor damage after frozen/burst pipes at Shavasana; urban blight in Kitsilano, as a nearby landlord evicts a tenant and the bailiff chucks his possessions onto the street; new trail signage, making access to my business a bit more awkward; and 2 large pallets of Spam at Costco…which allows me to stop and ponder for a moment that, no matter how bad my bads are, they can always be worse🤣
The Sad😢
Rena Chase, Lemar, Joseph Synn Kune Loh – very sad to see them all leave us this year, I will remember each of them for the particular joy they brought into my life, and the lives of others❤️❤️❤️
The Ugly:
Ugly, is bad baked in with stress, slathered with anxiety and sprinkled with longer-term negative significance. My neighbours Billie, Justine and Pat rent full time accommodation on this lovely 10-acre waterfront parcel in Miner’s Bay, Mayne Island, and this is where I’ve had my little biz – Shavasana Gallery & Café – for the past 11 years. It’s become a long labyrinthian story so I’m going to try and make it short. There are 4 owners of this property – 2 couples – who are not on good terms. One couple are supportive of we tenants and have no interest (currently) in selling. The other couple wish to sell their “Half/Undivided Interest” for $4 million…about 4 times the assessed value. In so doing, they have applied pressure on all parties involved (tenants and other owners). We are trying to remain optimistic and to fight the good fight but the wolves are at the door.🙏
Wait! there’s more!
The Weird, The Surprising & The Funny:
The weird:We (Mayne Island & Shavasana Gallery)had a visit this summer by a mystical wanderer, named Joseph, who travelled around in a beat-up grey car festooned with graffiti, assorted fabrics, branches & “found items”. He arrived at my place bearded & barefoot like a latter day Sadhu, and spoke in an almost imperceptible whisper (until I saw him chatting freely on his iPad Mini). I was OK with his presence, but others were not as welcoming and there was a sense that he was encouraged to “move on”…the final sightings of Joseph were at the Ferry Terminus (with someones’ boat on his roof) and then in Downtown Vancouver on Davie Street (pictured); The Surprising: recently a friend came into Shavasana and asked me if I knew that a fairly well-known island artist – Ian McLeod – had painted my image on a painting accompanied by 5 other Mayne Islanders – I hadn’t, so was surprised and delighted to see my stylized cartoonish red-head appear mid-right on the painting with Mike Nadeau, Al Sharma, Rudy Dearden & two other mystery islanders; The Funny: Despite everything & everybody, my sense of humour is intact, and for this I’m extremely grateful (not everybody is) I saw these two headlines recently – almost side by side – on my Guardian news App: “Earth’s Vital Signs show Humanity’s Future in Balance, say Climate Experts” (with possibility of Societal Collapse) next to, “No Matter How Hard he Tries, my Boyfriend Can’t Find my G-Spot”…please help me…I can’t decide which one to worry about more – but I do hope the boyfriend finds her G-Spot before societal collapse…that would be tragic🤣
Stay well, appreciate the good, tolerate the bad, and may your ugly be few and far between🙏
We are joined by Barry on saxophone, and a fellow on drums (whose name I have forgotten). Despite playing this song for over 40 years – I still need a song sheet in front of me 😆
I love playing with Jim and Gail, and it was a true delight having Barry & the drummer join us for this tune. Despite the sad nature of the event, it was an evening of fabulous music (in honour of Al who was a stellar guitarist), and we even drew some people onto the dance floor. Got 5 minutes – have a listen.👂
I’m going to be reading from my new book “All Roads at Any Time” this Friday May 24 from 2pm until about 3:30pm, at Shavasana Gallery & Café on Mayne Island.
I’m planning on reading one story from my book**, then taking a short break to give everyone a chance to grab a coffee or tea while I field any questions that may arise.
Following this, I’d like to read a new short story that I wrote recently called, “The Panic Attack” which will – hopefully – make it’s way into Volume 2 – the follow-up book of story stories that I am currently working on. After this we’ll stop for a little Q & A session.
As a self-published author I can also field any questions that the audience may have about the self-publishing process and what to expect after that…writing and publishing are – as I am discovering – the first 2 steps in a rather long and circuitous journey (but…it’s worth it! 😅)
**a little follow up addendum to this announcement. Both readings were recorded by Mayne Island TV, here’s the first reading:
Two young long-haired travellers arrive in Amsterdam in 1973. One of them, hopes and prays that the rest of his “round the world adventure” will improve over “day one”…it can only get better! Or can it?
“After receiving a 100 year old Blüthner piano, I became fascinated with its long journey to Mayne Island and Shavasana Gallery. Here is a story of how to sleuth the wandering path of an “accidental” piano.” (to watch a 5 minute compilation video which I made called “11 Pieces for the Blüthner” go here: https://youtu.be/f_o4JUtccH8 )
It just dawned on me, recently, that I haven’t fed this Clay and Bone website for a while – last November to be precise when I did a wee article on my newest mask “Pandemic Pan”. For those of you who do receive my Blog/Journal posts on Clay and Bone, you are probably also aware that this site is inextricably connected to things I post on www.shavasana.ca which is the site for my Gallery Café on Mayne Island. Shavasana Gallery also serves as my creative studio when I am inclined to make a mask, or do a little painting, or some writing…or embark on some other creative project. It’s also where I exhibit all of my unsold masks & paintings, or, hold exhibits for other artists.
The primary reason I haven’t been posting on Clay and Bone is because I have a new Podcast project called “The Accidental Curator”, https://www.theaccidentalcurator.ca/ which was launched last November, and has been occupying most (if not all) of my creative energy, and will help to explain my absence from this site. Most people who receive Shavasana Gallery posts are aware of this project because I have included information and links about it on that site and also on my Shavasana Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/shavasanaartgallery . Unfortunately I’m not sure who’s receiving, liking, following, or subscribing to any of my four sites so I apologize if this current info is already known to you…I don’t want you to suffer from “George Overkill” 😆
If, on the other hand, you are bemused and intrigued by my new Podcast Project announcement and are thinking, “Hmm, sounds very compelling…I’m intrigued, please tell me more” Well, here is the premise:
“Have you ever wanted to leave your job and pursue a simpler life? I did. An intimate glimpse into small island living and community life through the eyes of a Gallery Café owner, artist and writer. This sublime adventure brought healing, growth and new challenges, for our tragicomic play is never quite so simple. Join me for short stories, and interviews with island creatives, activists & other heart-centric denizens.“
As of this writing – March 4, 2021 – I have published 4 episodes and am working on my 5th which I hope to have recorded and published within the next week. From a strictly creative perspective the Pandemic has been both a blessing and a curse. Covid-19 has shut down my Gallery and made travelling to my studio quite awkward, thus liberating my time for additional projects like The Accidental Curator podcast. Emotionally though, it has also been a huge drain and a worry which – on occasion – has been an energy-sucking motivational Muse kill. As my heart has been more into writing these last few years, I have a body of short stories from Clay and Bone and Shavasana Gallery which will make their way into the new podcast in an audio format, I will be doing some interviews, and I have an intention to write some Semi-Autobiographical Fiction which will also wind up there.
So, I haven’t disappeared, I’m actually quite busy and looking forward to the evolution of any of these endeavours. If you’re a fan of podcasts and are interested in checking out what I’ve done, you can either go to this link https://www.theaccidentalcurator.ca/ (as mentioned above) which takes you to the Podbean Host, or , you can go to either Directory: Apple (iTunes) Podcasts or Google Podcasts and do a search for The Accidental Curator.
I hope that you and your loved ones are staying safe & well during this time.
It had been a while since I had made a mask so I was eager to get back at it and reinvigorate my abilities & process. The local Arts Council on Mayne Island had proposed having an online exhibit during the Pandemic to avoid crowds mingling in confined spaces and – as it turned out – their theme for the show was “About Face – An exploration of masks and portraiture”…all things pertaining to the face from 3-dimensional masks to paintings, drawings & other mixed media…so, as a guy who makes masks, the call to create within my area of interest was enough incentive to participate – here’s the show (a lot of great work in there, have a look): https://www.artsontheislands.org/about-face.html
The early stages of preparing the clay, shaping the face, and adding facial details
So I made the journey from my home in Kitsilano to my Studio on Mayne to dust off my mask-making abilities and put something together. Of course, at this time, we are all painfully aware of the ongoing pandemic and this made me think of the Greek root words of Pandemic – which are Pan (meaning all) and Demos (meaning people)…and so, as minds do (mine at least) I thought of making a depiction of Pan, “god of the wild, shepherds and flocks, nature of mountain wilds, rustic music and impromptus, and companion of the nymphs.” (from Wikipedia)…perhaps if we paid more respect to Pan (nature) we’d have fewer Pandemics.
After 10 days of curing my mask (basically letting it air-dry) I brought it back to Vancouver where I have access to a kiln at a friendly little neighbourhood business that I’ve been going to for years called “U Paint I Fire” run by an amiable fellow named John.
John – Proprietor of the Kitsilano-based ceramic shop, “U Paint I Fire”
There’s always a worry that a hand-built clay mask – or any object for that matter – may explode in the kiln, due to inadequate drying, or air pockets that have been trapped in the clay due to inadequate clay preparation (throwing/kneading/rolling)…so, I always have some trepidation as I hand my mask off to the kiln-master as there can be accidents: https://clayandbone.com/2017/04/30/mask-making-abraham-maslows-exploding-head/
So I am always releived when John pulls my mask out of the kiln and I can hold the finished (almost) fired piece.
Before & After: Unfired on the left with two pics of the final fired mask
Currently Pandemic Pan is residing on the wall of Shavasana Gallery & Café on Mayne – antlers attached, hanging wire in place – just waiting to be painted. Unfortunately, due to current Second Wave Pandemic restrictions it’s a little harder for me to get to Mayne Island so this next stage will have to wait.
Ok…fast forward 4 months from where I left off in the previous paragraph. I managed to get back to Mayne Island to paint Pandemic Pan & take a few more photos – I feel pleased with the result, have a look:
The rewards of running a Gallery Café on a small island are not always financial…as I think about it, in my own case, they’re not financial at all, because I really don’t make a lot of money at this gig. What the Art Gallery Café may lack in remuneration though is more than compensated…well, mitigated perhaps…by a depth & breadth of experience that I have come to cherish…tolerate…endure…and fear.
Mostly it’s been good…fabulous actually…how can you not love it when friends and neighbours drop in with fresh baked scones and home-made preserves just out of a spirit of generosity. It’s a very giving community and I’ve been the happy recipient of so much largesse…food of all sorts: smoked salmon, various teas and coffees, baked goods of all kinds, numerous bouquets of flowers, award winning sunflowers, canned items from homegrown gardens, and perhaps one of my favourites, the friends who showed up with an entire ice-cream maker full of freshly made blackberry ice cream…God that was good, perhaps the best ice cream I’d ever dipped my spoon into.
And the fearful? Well, at the moment the bucket of ice cream scares me as I try and shed 20 pounds after my winter excesses. All kidding aside though…it’s people. When you run a retail operation, as I do, it’s a public space open to all, and you never know who is going to walk through the front door. I’ve been fortunate, I know, as I can safely say that 99%+ of those who have graced my Gallery with their presence have been kind, funny, happy, bright and engaging.
And the <1% ?…mostly a garden variety of quirky individuals whom we all encounter from time to time who trigger our awareness mechanism in a way that speaks of unpredictability. We know that our ability to communicate and understand might be challenged and may try our patience. But these individuals are – ultimately – harmless and wander off on their quixotic journeys. Then there are the in-your-face recovering drug addicts who generate wariness and, of course, the irritating drunks who wander in eliciting anger, wariness and thoughts of self defence…
….and then there’s Colin*. Colin was the “1 in a 1,000” deeply troubled individual who walked in one fine spring morning and stayed for a year and a half. I’m not going to go into detail but suffice it to say that Colin’s depth of personal pain had created a malevolence filled with hair-trigger anger, paranoia and threats of violence which I became privy to on an almost daily basis. His appearance, and my exposure to his toxicity made me seriously consider closing my shop…and then, one day, he was gone!
The experiences I have come to value the most (next to buckets of ice-cream) are those which feel unique and fresh and unlike anything I’ve previously encountered. Situations or events which arouse my sense of the absurd….friends who drop in by horse, performance artists appearing with giant puppets, phone calls to help move a giant pot-bellied pig to a Church Fair, a friend showing up with a truckful of retrievers, a hunter coming in with a bag full of bloody deer hooves for “my art”, and, one of my faves, an elderly friend dropping off her late husbands collection of retro leatherwork magazines which I’ve captured in this short video “Adventures in Leather”
“Adventures in Leather”
The magazines went to a good home as I decided against a new career in leatherwork. The adventure – now in its sixth year – continues 🙂
*Colin is the name I have given to “He who shall remain nameless”…
It was there, waiting for me, when I got back from Vancouver. Black, lustrous and imposing, it now occupied the space I’d left for it against the far wall between the two cabinets. Possessing a certain presence and grace, it sat there patiently, as if expecting me. My new roommate had arrived – the Blüthner was here.
The movers had obviously found the “secret key” and managed to access my Gallery and wrestle its awkward bulk into place, without my assistance. For this I was grateful as pianos are notoriously difficult to move. Three-men with a truck, a special dolly and straps is still no guarantee of safety – for the piano or the movers. This is why you’ll find many pianos being offered for “free”…if you pick up the moving fees.
In fact, the piano was not mine – a friend had received it, for free, when the local Community Centre on Mayne Island decided to divest themselves of their two pianos. His impulsive agreement to take the piano was short-lived though, when he realized that he didn’t have space for it. Pianos are beautiful instruments and have an intrinsic allure, even if you don’t know how to play them – like myself. When offered a chance to “store it indefinitely” in my Gallery Café, I readily accepted, and now, it was here…what to do?
It looked lovely in its new home, fitting perfectly between the two cabinets, allowing for stylish art displays on the wall in the alcove above, and on top of the piano too. But what of the piano itself? What is a Blüthner? A name I’d never heard, before one showed up in my Gallery. I was curious.
It all starts with a little Wikipedia…
“Julius Blüthner Pianofortefabrik manufactures pianos in Leipzig Germany. Along with Bechstein, Bösendorfer, and Steinway, Blüthner is frequently referred to as one of the “Big Four” piano manufacturers. Established in 1853, Julius Blüthner, a deeply religious man, spoke the defining words that would allow his company to survive and flourish for the next 167 years, “May God Prevail”. The age of any particular Blüthner piano can be determined by matching its serial number to the age table freely available on the Blüthner website”
Blüthner pianos have won international awards consistently since their inception, and have been prized by pianists all over the world, including Rachmaninoff who said, “There are only two things which I took with me on my way to America…my wife and my precious Blüthner”.
“Hmm…impressive pedigree…and I can determine the age of my Blüthner?,” That’s cool I thought…I had to look. Lifting up the lid, and exposing the Hammer Action I saw the Serial number stencilled on the metal frame, “92989” Returning to the computer and the Blüthner website I was able to determine that my Blüthner was built in 1914 – exactly 100 years earlier (I was doing all this sleuthing in March 2014).
100 years. I paused to reflect for a moment on this significant date. I think we naturally accredit a special respect for anything that is celebrating a century of life on this earth. If the Blüthner was not technically alive, it had experienced a lot of life at the hands of its various owners. And, significantly, it was born in Leipzig Germany at the start of World War 1 which began on July 28th of that year. Where did it go? How did it get here?
My curiosity about the Blüthner’s journey was piqued and I wanted to know all I could about her…but all I had was the piano sitting before me – and she wasn’t speaking. I grabbed a flashlight and a screwdriver and started to explore.
Removing the bottom panel just above the piano pedals I peered in with my flashlight and saw the Serial number again, handwritten in pencil along with what appeared to be a signature. My first thought was of a young German piano maker leaving his mark for posterity – a little Saxon graffiti – and immediately wondered what might have happened to him with the advent of War.
Without knowing for certain though, I sent a photo to my German friend Rainer Schroeder (Valhalla Tours ), for translation. Rainer said that although “it’s definitely a word…the font is in Old German “Suetterlin” …but I’m not sure”.
Undaunted, I went online and found Katherine Shober of SK Translations who works in this field to see if she could help. (Chasing this one word translation becomes a story in itself: Katherine was too busy but directed me to Geneologist Dr. Ellen Yutzy Glebe. She too was busy but gave me three Facebook Translation Groups – which I joined – and within hours had a viable translation from Georg Patrzek – “Tschempel (or Tschumpel/Tschampel)” which is a family name…God I love the internet)
I was glad that the word I’d discovered was a family name and didn’t mean “right piano leg” in Sütterlinschrift . Knowing that M. Tschempel decided to sign this instrument upon which he (or she) worked creates, for me at least, a whole thread of historic inquiry to ponder or pursue. Was he young, old, married with family? What happened to Tschempel? World War 1? 2?…in a last grasp at trying to understand, and complete this circle, I found one Tschempel reference online – again on Facebook, a Marie Lea Tschempel whom I have messaged…I await her reply.
The next and most obvious clue in the Blüthner’s journey was a small metal plaque attached to the keyboard lid which read: “Bowran & Co. Ltd – Newcastle on Tyne”
I knew that Newcastle on Tyne was in England, so the Blüthner had to have made it’s way safely between two warring countries, but I had no way of knowing when it made that perilous trip. Mr. Google was there to help and gave me a little tidbit from the Newcastle Journal August 4th, 1916…a small classified ad indicating that E. O. Bowran was indeed engaged in piano sales, representing several makes & models of new & used pianos. Bowran survived the war but not the great Depression, and had to be “wound up due to liabilities”, as published in the London Gazette, February 5, 1935
So, somewhere between 1914 and 1935, the Blüthner made it’s way to England, sat in a Piano Shop in Newcastle upon Tyne and was sold either new, used or as part of a bankruptcy liquidation.
Sometime during it’s long life, an aspiring pianist, or perhaps a child who didn’t know better, sat down at the piano with a pen and piece of paper, and forever scarred the keyboard cover while writing out the notes and lyrics to a song:
Their scribbling moved around too much for me to identify the song, or tell what era it’s from. I visualize a young student or budding musician from the 60’s or 70’s copying or creating a piece for personal enjoyment or to entertain family and friends. I find these words add a human element to the Blüthner’s almost indecipherable journey.
The trail goes cold here until August 10, 1986 (or perhaps October 8) when the Blüthner was tuned up by Cliff Brownlee of Penticton, BC.
I’ve attempted to fill in some gaps with the Blüthner’s history but have been unable to do so beyond the plaques, stickers, and graffiti that were left attached to the piano. The 50 year gap between Newcastle & Penticton is long so I decided to take a chance and call Cliff Brownlee in Penticton to see if he could remember anything about the piano – 28 years after his tuning job. It was a long shot.
Much to my surprise, there he was in the directory, no longer listed as a piano tuner and living at a different address but I felt compelled to call him. What possible harm could it do? Again, surprisingly, Cliff picked up the phone after a couple of rings. I could tell by his voice that I was not dealing with a young man. I explained who I was and why I was calling, that I was on a crazy mission to try and understand the life of a piano. How did it get to Pentiction?…and then to Mayne Island?
Cliff was friendly but admitted that – after this length of time – he really had little memory of working on my Blüthner, but – again with the surprises – he would look into his files, and call me back. He did just that. Two days later I received a call from him, unfortunately, he wasn’t able to elaborate much more on my pianos journey. He did recall coming to Mayne to tune David Hodges Grand Piano back when he was still in business, so we speculated that perhaps the Blüthner was here at that time, and not in Penticton, and that Cliff had picked up some additional tuning jobs.
I had one more lead to try – call the Community Centre and see where they got the piano and talk to whomever donated it. A chat with Lauren led me to Lise who gave me the final word on my quest. A couple named Don and Nina Thompson had made the donation to the Community Centre but they were now both in a seniors care facility in Victoria and should really not be disturbed. The thought being that perhaps they would be dismayed to know that their “donation” had changed hands and was now in a Gallery Café.
After all my sleuthing I certainly wanted to call them, or their family members but I honoured the suggestion. If Don and Nina’s intent when they made their donation was for the Blüthner to be cared for and played lovingly, I’m sure this little video that I made: “Eleven Pieces for the Blüthner” would warm their hearts and assuage any concerns they may have…
Clay & Bone 