Monthly Archives: January 2016

A Warm Spot in a Cold Blast — Lamberton Conservatory

Where do you go when there’s an arctic cold line dropping down from Lake Ontario?

*Why, to Rochester’s Highland Park, of course.

*When we there a couple of weeks ago under just such circumstances, snow was falling onto Frederick Law Olmstead’s Upstate treasure. Kids were sledding and skateboarding down the steep slopes of a little dell or dingle, to their parents’ delight. As we made our way farther off, excited voices faded to a snowy hush. Here and there a squirrel skittered, and we said that all we needed was a lonely lamppost. And we found one.

*Our photographer son Josh was in his element, but one of a series of arctic waves came down on us and I’ll confess that after a while I pointed out that according to his own words, I had a debilitating disease (a WEIRD debilitating disease, he corrected me), and the new wave of cold was leaching me out, so while he went forging on, I went backtracking. As for Joyce her journey had been even shorter – from the car to the Lamberton Conservatory.

*Three cheers to Monroe County for maintaining not only the gorgeous park, but also, since 1911, the conservatory. It’s a never-ending battle to keep up such a site, and many operators fall by the wayside. Just short of the century mark, the Lamberton was taken down and then painstakingly reproduced on its original site – an undertaking at once valiant and heroic.

*You can guess that it was noticeably WARMER when we stepped inside, but we were not entering a sweltering ambiance. I only saw a couple of thermometers around the place, and they both read 62. Still, in an instant we were warm, even as we watched the snow (fallen and falling) through the glass-paneled walls.

*I did not set myself to acquire knowledge on the Conservatory’s prolific fauna… I just wandered and wended to grok the whole experience. Certainly I DID observe that one room was pretty much a desert environment (lots of cacti), and one was something of a tropical rain forest (more humid, but not aggressively so), while another was more like our own climate, albeit with an endless summer, or at least an endless late spring.

*Josh joined us eventually, and of course we all got a charge out of the FAUNA mixed in with the flora. A terrarium had four tortoises (I found ’em all) and three box turtles (found two). In one lovely artificial stream I counted seventeen turtles, most “sunning” themselves but some swimming, and in another room another six.

*Keep you eye peeled and you also spot quail zipping in and out of the undergrowth – little guys about five inches tall, I’d say. While we were there, many of them tended to congregate within a few yards of some pans of grain laid down for them, but keep at it long enough and you may find them anywhere in this large space, even across the stream, so I suppose that when the coast is clear they use the footbridge.

*That tropical dome space is the biggest in the conservatory, and it’s also the highest, making space for tall growth. Here there are three stories of growth – both here and in the adjoining room, orchids hang down within reach, along with epiphytes.

*Benches scatter here and there, and on one an elderly man sat reading. There’s a little lending library in the entry lobby, or you can bring a book of your own. It’s a lovely place to sit and read on a wintry icy day, enjoying your book and your warmth and your lovely lush surroundings, glancing up now and then to see the snowy world outside.

*Highland Park covers more than 150 acres, essentially straddling South Ave between Mount Hope and South Goodman, with Highland and Reservoir being the main east-west streets. Besides the glory of the setting itself, the space has been created as an arboretum. With a free brochure you can explore various kinds of plantings. It costs two bucks to enter the Conservatory. The park itself is free for all to wander, dream, explore, and snowboard.

Two Fine Photo Shows at the Rockwell

*Is photography an art form? Yes, as we can see from two exhibits at the Rockwell Museum.

*Some people might not be sure. After all, with a painting or a sculpture you have to start with a blank canvas, or a chunk of rock, and create something out of nothing. While with photography, you just point at what’s already there, and snap the lever – right?

*Unsurprisingly, there’s a good deal more to it than that, as John Doddato and Peter McBride show us. Even without getting into the technical stuff, selecting the right sight TO photograph… then stalking that fugitive blend of subject, angle, shadow, and light… sometimes takes hours of waiting for two or three seconds of opportunity.

*A staggering example is McBride’s photo taken in the region of the headwaters of the Colorado River. As I approached from across the room, it puzzled me. It looked almost like silhouette figures on a southwestern vase – though if that’s what it was, it was a contemporary piece. Even standing before it, I still didn’t get it… then finally my mind’s eye clicked everything into place. What had seemed like the elongated silhouettes of horses were actually the SHADOWS of horses, as seen from directly overhead, at an altitude of 600 feet.

*With help from his pilot father, McBride had crystallized a single instant from an incredible viewpoint, creating an outstanding image of one man and 21 horses in a split-rail corral.

*This huge color photo is part of the exhibition “The Colorado River: Flowing Through Conflict” in the Rockwell’s Temporary Exhibition Gallery. The huge Colorado is so heavily used that it actually peters out into sand long before it reaches the sea. McBride and his collaborator Jonathan Waterman demonstrated that fact after following the flow for hundreds of miles, and then walking 90 miles to salt water along the theoretical bed of America’s seventh-largest river.

*The journey and the photos are a celebration of the river. A gorgeous view of two anglers fishing in the Roaring Fork tributary captivates even non-fishermen. (Study the two men in the river – see how the blur of their movements adds to the scene.)

*A scene of Marble Canyon in the upper Grand Canyon turns our world upside down. The walls of the canyon rise straight on either side, and in between, down at the floor of the canyon is – the sky, white clouds captured perfectly in reflected blue.

*But the photos are also a disturbing record of how we use and misuse the mighty stream. A Las Vegas swimming pool is one of thousands of pools and water features that gulp water from the river and throw it off as evaporation, largely just for the sake of spectacle. An aerial view of Phoenix shows a mighty metropolis, complete with palm trees, country clubs, and water features, in land that’s naturally desert. Westerners often like to vaunt themselves as self-reliant rugged individualists, but in fact their life is made possible only by gigantic government projects, and massive consumption of other people’s water – in the case of Phoenix, one-third of it from the distant Colorado, another third from that river’s tributaries, and a third from nearby underground aquifers.

*For all that, residents are following an ancient tradition. Ancient Hohokam people created 1200 miles of canals to support themselves on the same site.

*While the McBride exhibit shines in eye-squinting color, John Doddato’s “In Pursuit of the American Landscape” show in the Members Gallery is understated grayscale using an old silver-gelatin process. Doddato was born in Sayre and lived in Big Flats, but he takes us on a photo journey of the American West.

*Some of the images here, such as the mitten rocks in Monument Valley, and the dunes at sunrise in Death Valley, are views of well-known, well-traveled scenes. But here also is a streamside scene of Castle Creek outside Aspen, centered on a dead and fallen spruce. Another photo records a grove of Aspens, quietly glowing.

*I find myself repeatedly gazing at the ancient Flame House under the overhang on Cedar Mesa. The large blocks of which the structure is built are impressive, but what captivates me are the four utterly black doorways. In one sense, they lead to that empty and long-lost world of the original inhabitants. In another sense, they open to every possibility that imagination might devise.

*I keep on saying this, but I’ve always got good reasons: go to the Rockwell Museum. The McBride show runs through February 7, and Doddato through March 10.

Steele Memorial Library — a Cool Place

*Our five-county region has 49 public libraries, and the largest of these is Steele Memorial Library in Elmira… which is itself the largest city in the five counties.

*Both the 1923 main branch and the old much-missed South Branch were clobbered in the 1972 Hurricane Agnes flood, along with most of the rest of the city. Records were lost, thousands of books were ruined, and the structures were severely stressed. This led to creation of a new facility, opened in 1979, well-located for downtown at Church Street and Clemens Center Parkway.

*Maybe the most attractive thing about Steele – it has the largest collection in the area. It’s been designated the central library for Southern Tier Library System, meaning that anyone with a card at the other 48 member libraries may borrow materials, either in person or by inter-library loan.

*The architecture itself screams “1970s!”, which gives it a retro charm all its own. Besides checkout and rest rooms, the lower level offers new books, rental books, periodicals, the children’s section, the young adult section, the video discs, and the audio discs. There are cases for library and community exhibits.

*It also has a carpeted chessboard, with pieces a couple of feet high. It doesn’t make the game any different, but it provides an added layer of fun and even goofiness.

*A massive freestanding staircase and elevator lead up to the mezzanine – nonfiction, adult fiction, adult graphic novels, science fiction, mystery fiction, mass-market paperbacks, computers, a locked section of rare books, and a VERY helpful reference department – I made use of their services several times while I was writing a book about the 1972 flood. From the mezzanine you also get a good look at the lower level, which is neat if you’re looking for family members or cool if you’re just people-watching. You can also follow the chess match from on high, which gives you delusions of grandeur.

*Besides the chess area (and the sheer number of books), here are some things that are neat about the Steele Memorial Library.

*There are three dedicated graphic novel sections – one for adults, one for kids, and one for young adults. The offerings run from old-time newspaper strip collections to currently mainstream to edgy and avant-garde.

*A large screen shows the Weather Channel.

*It’s downtown – a sign of commitment to (and by) the city and its people.

*Even though it’s downtown it’s easily reached, and it has good on-site parking (not always the case with urban libraries).

*You can walk to Light’s Bakery, and to the Chemung Valley History Center. You can walk a couple of blocks, and take a look at the river.

*Public events take place in the green spaces nearby.

*Steele Library introduced me to historian (and deadpan comedian) Simon Schama, and also to former Elmira resident Graham Sale, the cartoonist who created “Men in Hats.”

*Steele Library helped me out when I was trying to document turn-of-the-century cartoonist (and Horseheads resident) Eugene Zimmerman’s books or the Grand Comics Database. (I put Graham Sale in there, too.)

*The library memorializes John Dorman Steele, 19th-century E.F.A. principal and major figure in American education.

*It’s a very handy place if you’ve got someone in either of Elmira’s two hospitals!

“Our One-Room Schools”

*There’s a memory that’s still vivid in many local hearts and minds – the memory of the one-room school. For many people even in their mid-sixties, one-room school was part of growing up.

*The population in New York has kept going up, but the number of school districts has been going down for 150 years! Mostly this is because better transportation (especially cars and buses) makes the little local one-room schools unnecessary.

*Number of school districts in New York – remembering that in the early days, a district had a single one-room school.

*1865 11,780
*1900 11,000
*1925 9,950
*1960 1,292
*1999 705

*Once upon a time there were 400 or so schools in Steuben County alone. This seems impossible until you think about 34 cities and towns, in an area larger than Rhode Island, with all the students making their way on foot. The numbers varied over the century and a half that the schools were in use, but here are some sample towns with the number of their schools at the height of one-room days.

*Bath 24
*Caton 11
*Jasper 14
*Wayne 5
*Wayland 14

*Any town might have twenty or more school districts, each with its little one-room school. Each district had an elected school board, which hired the teacher, set the taxes, and maintained the building. The minute book for Bath District 15 (Freeman Hollow) is very exacting with specifications for purchase of firewood (type, length, diameter, seasoning, stacking), but just records “hired Miss so-and-so” for teachers.

*This record also shows minutes of a meeting to decide whether to bother rebuilding the school after the old one burned down. They agreed to do so, and probably couldn’t have avoided it without breaking state law.

*In 1956, consolidation of 62 school districts formed the Corning-Painted Post School District. Some students there still attended one-room schools until 1957, and in Bath until 1961.

*One-room schools are having a revival in Steuben County and its neighbors. Conservative Anabaptist (Amish or Mennonite) communities have their own schools. Though operated like the schools of days gone by, they are private religious schools, rather than public schools.

*Although we speak of one-room schools in the rural districts, some in fact were larger. Stephens Mill had a two-room school, and Pleasant Valley had a lovely four-room structure.

*School years and school terms were shorter back then. Some districts shut down entirely during Fair Week. We also have records of schools being closed for grape picking, hay cutting, potato digging, and berrying – quite possibly they also closed for sugar making and any number of other seasons. Of course the kids were put to work on the family farm during these busy spells, but often the teacher hired out as well, for extra income.

*Steuben County Historical Society is kicking off its Winter Lecture Series on January 8 with a presentation, “Our One-Room Schools,” by Ian Mackenzie. Ian authored a book on the subject mainly covering the region that became Corning-Painted Post School District, but Friday’s presentation will be more wide-ranging. It’s free and open to the public at 4 PM in Bath Fire Hall. I hope to see you there!