Art Week 1!

When I went back this afternoon and looked at my 2013 blog posts, but I especially loved about them was how careful I was to document all the paintings I saw in museums! It's really sweet now to be able to go back and look at what I was most struck by on those early museum trips. In honor of my 2013 efforts, here is a (very) brief write-up about some art highlights i've seen in my first week here in Sweden.

Uppsala Cathedral 

Uppsala Cathedral is the seat of the (protestant) archbishop of Sweden, as well as being the national cathedral. It is equally as tall as it is long, and is made of local brick and limestone quarried in Gotland, a large island off the eastern coast that was particularly important in the medieval period. The cathedral was begun in the 13th c, replacing an older church in Old Uppsala, which was, in turn, replacing a pre-Christian sacred grove. While this Gothic structure was being built, the people of Uppsala used a nearby Romanesque church (which I hope to visit soon!). As soon as the chancel was complete, they moved in and began doing their services in the cathedral.

Since the 13th c, the cathedral has burned twice, which means very little of the original structure survives. The spire and towers are nineteenth century, as is most of the decoration. There are a few historiated capitals around the chancel, but I think there were originally more, and that they're probably not in their original positions. One of these capitals is horribly anti-semitic, though it wouldn't be immediately obvious to someone unfamiliar with medieval iconography. The cathedral has placed a plaque beside it alerting visitors to its difficult subject matter (not pictured).

The large apse of the church, originally a site of Marian devotion, was converted in the reformation to a shrine to King Gustav Vasa, the Swedish king who, upon his election, converted the country to Protestantism. He also decided that his sons would inherit his kingship, and elections ended. What a guy! There is now a contemporary piece outside this apse, a hyper realistic woman in a blue scarf, staring sadly into the apse. She looks so real that for a moment, I thought it was another visitor to the cathedral. Actually, it is a sculpture of Mary, peeking pensively into the venerated apse that she used to occupy.

One thing I particularly loved about the cathedral was the late nineteenth century wall paintings! Most cathedrals in Europe are no longer painted in their interiors, the medieval paint long gone and never replaced. However, many Scandinavian churches still have wonderful wall painting inside, much of it original Romanesque works. This church obviously lost its medieval paint, but wall painting was still important enough in Swedish church settings to require new images. These are done in a beautiful, Art Nouveau style, reminiscent of cigarette cases and posters scandalizing Paris in the same period. The angels are beautiful, but they do remind of liberated women in Golden Age Paris.

Job Cigarette poster, Alphonse Mucha, 1896

Angels in the spandrels of nave arches in Uppsala Cathedral, c. late 19th c 

The Augsburg Kunstkammer

In the early modern period, the very wealthy and educated loved collecting cabinets of curiosity in order to display how learned and important they are. Filled with a number of enchanting drawers and compartments, the wild assortment of objects inside was meant to contain the entire world in one cabinet. This is a very special kunstkammer, because it still has its entire original 17th c collection. It was given to the Swedish king by the city of Augsburg when he happened to be passing by with a large army and was interested in it. The cabinet includes paintings, corals, shells, gold coins, scientific instruments, a tiny sculpture excavated from the earliest Egyptian excavations, and a great many other perplexing and amazing items! A self-playing harpsichord type instrument was hidden in the top, beneath the enormous nut that crowns the entire piece. For a seventeenth century dinner guest, music coming magically from inside the cabinet would have been quite a party trick. 

My favorite detail is the beautiful marbles set in the doors. The marble itself may have been looted from Classical villas, maybe brought from Constantinople, Rome, or Athens. The colors are amazing, representing quarries from all over the mediterranean and who knows where else. Most interestingly, the marble has been painted with scenes! The natural colors of the marble make amazing backdrops for the little paintings. 

The Uppsala Anatomy Theater

Carl Linnaeus (1707-1778) was the most famous Enlightenment-era scientist to come out of Uppsala. A botanist, naturalist, biologist and archaeologist, he was a foundational researcher who achieved international renown for his work on cataloguing the world's plants, his advancements in medicine, and his invention of stratigraphical archaeology (analyzing layers of soil deposits to determine the age of buried objects). Linnaeus designed this anatomy theater, which is amazingly cramped and steep. The faux-marble columns on each level of the theater represent one of the orders of classical columns, and the windows in the ceiling let in an amazing amount of light so that students could see the dissection happening down on the table. 

When he got older, Linnaeus came up with a crackpot theory about Uppsala being the same place as Atlantis. When our guide told us this, I was cheeky and said "that's what happens once you get tenure!" and a full professor a few rows down was a little bit miffed. hee hee. 

Whew, that was a lot! I'm tired now. But I hope 2013-me would be proud. 

Beautiful Uppsala

Glad Midsommar!

Today is Midsummer's Eve, a very important holiday in Sweden! In ye olden times, it was a most significant day for all Europeans (and others, of course--the summer solstice is worthy of remark all over the world!). In the Middle Ages, Midsummer was combined with the Feast of St. John the Baptist, the forerunner of Christ. John the Baptist's feast day marked the halfway point on the way back to Christmas! The celebration of his feast, and of the solstice, made for an interesting combination of Christian and earlier traditions, from bonfires and burning effigies, to dancing and music. Regional variation abounded. The priests often took part as well, facilitating the frivolity with the church's approval (better than letting the folk just do whatever they want, right?)

Here in Sweden, the tradition continues in full force! All the shops are shut, and they will be tomorrow as well. Uppsala is silent. So today, the UISS crew loaded onto a bus and traveled out to the charming town of Hammerskogs, about half an hour from Uppsala.

The weather was warm and breezy, and the countryside here is very green. We traveled through rolling hills flanked by distant forestland, catching sight of horses and cows, small houses and farms. Hammerskogs means something like Forest of the Hammer, which may refer to Thor somehow. We unloaded and walked up to the green, where the maypole had been erected (it is a fertility symbol, of course).

I ordered and ate a very nice hot dog (a korv I svenska), and walked with some of the other students in the program down to the lake's edge. An adventurous few had taken a swim. We gathered flowers and made flower crowns, as is tradition on Midsummer. Then, at Klockan tvo, the dancing began!

It was a wonderful day. What a joy to experience one of Sweden's most important traditions so soon after arriving!

Välkommen till Sverige

Goodness, it's been a really long time now since I've added anything to my blog! Poor bedraggled readers, who I imagine are in the thousands, staring hungrily at computer screens and getting absolutely nothing from me! Well, your ship has come in my friends, because I'm back! Looking over my posts from years ago reminds me again how much this forum has meant to me. The videos especially are so special now, six years on. I, now a most venerable Robyn, enjoy remembering those younger days.

I'm in Sweden for the summer! To explain very briefly, my dissertation research seems to be leaning towards work on medieval Scandinavia, and in order to pursue this interest, I need to acquire a Scandinavian language! This has led me here, to the picturesque town of Uppsala just north of Stockholm. Like Oxford, it was a medieval university city. The Swedes founded their university here in 1477, about two years before the Danes managed to get theirs up in Copenhagen.

Its a fairly rigorous course! I'm in class for seven hours each day, four hours in the morning (with a fika break--this is teatime for Swedes), and hour and fifteen minutes for lunch, and then two and a half more hours. That's more time spent in a classroom than I've had since my high school days, so I'm finding it a little overwhelming. I think in my PhD, I've become increasingly comfortable with brief periods of intense seminar time and then plenty of time alone to think about things, ha ha. Not so here!

I began my journey in Dallas. After a happy week spent with Alex, I flew from DFW to Heathrow, spent a twenty minute layover missing London, then on to Helsinki. I cleared customs in Helsinki, then continued on to Arlanda airport in Stockholm. I must admit, it was a pretty full-on itinerary. Two stops along the way is a bit much. But I made it safely and in good spirits to Uppsala by train, tramped down the King's road with my limited baggage, and checked in with UISS (The Uppsala International Summer Session).

My room is very nice! Internet comes to be via ethernet cable, and once I assembled a fan, I've been very comfortable. The single beds in Europe are so nice and long compared to twin beds in America. My feet never hang off the end! I have a lovely bath tub, and a big big window.

The city is very intimate, with many parks, flower pots, and trees. There's a little river that runs through the middle, separating the historic city from the newer half. Old Uppsala lies about 3 km away, and I will probably walk there in the next few days to see the old church and maybe some Viking things.

My first week was dominated by class, in which I am learning to foundations of a language I feel entirely unfamiliar with. We sing songs about little trolls, and are learning numbers, verbs in present tense, etc. In the afternoons, I'm in the Swedish art history class. Tuesday we went to see the wonderful cathedral here in town, and on Thursday we visited the university museum, home to a most amazing cabinet of curiosities. According to Johan, my art history instructor, this is the only cabinet to retain its entire original collection. We then walked up to the castle, which was horribly damaged in the 1702 fire. The surviving wing now functions as a contemporary art museum.

More to come!

A Year Away

So I live in Philadelphia now!!

I'm so excited to pursue my PhD. The art history department at Penn is a very welcoming and friendly place. I've already gotten to see so many manuscripts and works of art in person. Just last week we did our Mellon workshop day at the PMA where we got to meet with curators and conservators to discuss issues of authenticity and display. My cohort includes interesting and intelligent people from all over the country.

I also have a cat. Meet Theo.

I'm hoping to revitalize this blog ... i'll do my best! I've already had so many wonderful adventures in my new home including trips to New York, art fairs, train rides and many, many meals. Here are some pictures at least.

In September, Alex visited me in Philly!

Here I am operating a printing press in my Global print culture class!

 This is a train in Jim Thorpe, PA where my mom and I spent Fall break.

 I had an amazing and very rainy visit to New York, where I spent the day with my friend Frank from the Courtauld. 

Finally, this last weekend I got to be in Memphis for my dear friend Jenny's wedding to Micah, a giant among men.

It's Thanksgiving time now, and I reflect again on how many blessings there are to count. It's been a wild year full of ups and downs, but mostly ups. I'm so grateful for the chance to be at Penn, for my family and friends, for travel and food and cats.

A Family Secret

     In light of Christmas coming up in just a few days, I thought it might be nice to share a little bit of cheer on my resurrected blog: My grandmother's chocolate cream pie filling. I don't believe in secret recipes. Since my grandmother, bless her, is now beyond doing such things, every year this is my limited contribution to our Christmas merrymaking. I'm hardly a master chef (or any sort of chef, honestly. My ideal husband would be some sort of hybrid master chef-masseuse), and I think that's why this pie recipe works so well for me. It's really more like alchemy: mostly superstition and stirring. It's quite old, from a time before cocoa powder or instant pudding (Note: cream pies should never be made from pudding packs. This is heresy).

The original Betty Barrow with me, c. 2012

     You see, in the part of the South that I'm from, people were once (and some still are) very suspicious of fruit. There weren't very many fruits around, either. So instead of things like apple pie or strawberry-rhubarb pie, we made cream pies! Cream pies are strange, miraculous beasts. The most popular are coconut, lemon, and, of course, chocolate. The chocolate pie I make is something like a mousse, served in a crust. Making it is always an adventure for me, as I'm never quite sure what I'll get at the end. Traditionally, such a pie would be topped with meringue (a topping of whipped egg whites), but I'm a heathen and don't believe in meringue, so whipped cream it is. 

      Here are the things needed, and I suggest you have them all out before you get going (I never do this and end up hurling myself around the kitchen trying to get it together while the pot boils at me.)

You will need:  

1 pie crust (They're always better if you take the time to make them)

1 double boiler

1 c. sugar

1/3 c. flour 

A pinch of salt 

2 c. scalded milk

2 unsweetened chocolate squares

2 Tb butter

1 tsp vanilla 

And here are my annotated instructions: 

1. Mix sugar, flour and salt in double boiler while you're scalding your milk somewhere else. 

2. Gradually add scalded milk. I generally have the problem of dumping it all in at once and then remembering it said "gradual." It really is helpful to stir it in a bit at a time while it's hot, so your flour disappears.  

3. Add chocolate squares--sometimes I chop them up a bit before they go in, sometimes I don't. After the chocolate squares are in, you need to let them mostly incorporate, but it'll still look like milk with chocolatey bits floating in it. 

4. Add milk mixture to three beaten egg yolks. This is a truly strange step. What this means is you've got your eggs in a bowl and you spoon most of what you've been cooking into it. If you put the eggs in without doing this, it ends up being cooked egg bits in a chocolate broth. Gross. 

5. Add in butter and vanilla

6. Stir for approximately one year while becoming increasingly hopeless that it will ever be anything but speckly chocolate milk

7. Hope for the best. 

8. Magic (with luck) happens. 

9. Pour in crust and chill. 

You may notice that there are no listen times in this recipe? Well, that's part of the spontaneity of the thing. Honestly, anything could happen here. Last time, my pie came out with little gloops in it. I'm calling it Chocolate Pie with Doodads. Sounds festive, right? Merry Christmas from the Barrows! 

UPDATE 2017: This year my spontaneity manifested in forgetting to bake the pie crust in advance. The filling hung out in the double boiler. It was more patient than I expected. 

Why Rogue One needed a Woman Writer

(*** This post may contain some inadvertent spoilers, though I've done my best to avoid talking film specifics)      

                                    

      I've just returned from a jaunt to the silver screen, probably the best place to spend a winter day as cold as this one. It was a new Star Wars movie, so we went to the nice theatre. Cozy in our cush reclining seats, we settled in to 134 minutes of X-wings, tie fighters, and pew-pew noises. It was a great film in some ways--the effects were shocking, especially in bringing some of the original Star Wars cast back to life for us. There were some stellar cameos, landscapes, aliens. They were daring in some major parts of their story-telling, not flinching from their dark subject matter that seemed to have a particular, contemporary relevance as entire cities in rebellion were erased from the map. All of this was good, and the film is well worth a watch, though I might suggest waiting until children are old enough to deal with the grittier elements.

        My problem with Rogue One is the element of the narrative that I was originally most anticipating: it's heroine, Jyn Erso, the renegade daughter of an Imperial weapons specialist portrayed by Felicity Jones.

        When I found out that, like Force Awakens, Rogue One would be starred by a woman, I was overjoyed. The trailers seemed to portray a young women with a dark past who knew her way around a blaster. I thought, in my naivetee, that she might be the sassy, anti-hero Hans Solo to Rey's young, innocent Luke Skywalker persona. I thought she was the next piece in a new generation of strong woman leads.

       Enter Jyn Erso, introduced as a child and later as a young woman in prison. She's got the tragic backstory and the right, Hans Solo-style costume. There's even a combat sequence where she's completely badass, saving people and blasting storm troopers. She can give heroic speeches to troops. She can climb. She's got the skills. She's got the look.

        So what's the problem?

        The problem is that that's it. They got as far as the look and decided that was plenty. She's an image. Underneath this, Jyn Erso has no substance, no personality. Not a speck of humor. Not even very much bitterness to fuel her quest. Soulful eyes speaking of a difficult past and life of hardship? Yes. And for the first twenty minutes or so, this is enough. I was curious. I was hopeful for more of her to appear, more of a real person. But as the movie goes on and her cardboard dialogue continues to disappoint, I realized that, while she's a brave woman, she's not bravely written.

         With other Star Wars heroes, there's at least a sense of agency. Luke Skywalker is driven by his need to prove himself, to get off Tatooine and be somebody like the father he never knew. Rey, in contrast, is fastened to the planet her family abandoned her on, waiting for them to return for her. Later, she finds a new purpose in her relationships within the Alliance. Even Anakin is driven by the anger instilled in him by a childhood enslaved. A fan of Rogue One might say, well, Jyn is driven by a love of her lost father. But from this recliner, it looks to me like she was simply drifting aimlessly through her life until certain captors (mostly men), force her to join up. Then a man takes her to see a man and then they go try to save a man ... from a man. Is this totally fair? No. But what is Jyn's motivation? The character's shift from drifter to hero is displayed on the screen without being justified by the necessary character development. One minute she's saying no, no thanks, I'll just go--the next she's leading Alliance troops into a battle they can't win. Not much transition between the two, not much deepening of relationships with new companions. And where has she been? What has her life been since she was sixteen? The writers seem to feel it's not necessary to know. But this, to me, cheapens her sacrifices and make her shift into the hero seat less understandable.

         At the end of the day, Jyn Erso just doesn't have a life of her own, beyond the situation she's in. She has the range of a early 2000s video game character (with better graphics). I really don't blame Felicity Jones for this as it seems she's giving a plastic role all the life she can. It's the flat, careless writing. It's disappointing, and it's a little cowardly. To me, it sucked the life out of what would have been a really good film. And I can't help but think that this problem might have been remedied by having a woman among the writers. Clearly these writers know how to write interesting and fully-developed characters, because the minor male characters that make up the hunting band of companions are quite lively (besides Jyn, they are basically all men), though none of them have explained pasts. The writers just seemed to have no idea what to do with their heroine. Kudos for managing not to sexualize her obscenely, but it seemed that this left a void they didn't know how to feel. She wasn't funny, she wasn't kind or ambitious or even particularly angry. She wasn't much of anything, really. Good at fighting. Heroic. Sure. But a real, dimensional person? Eh. Good try, boys.