Last Friday I saw an exhibit of 70 Japanese dolls currently on display at the Iowa State Historical Society Museum. (By some crazy coincidence I happened to be there at the same time probably 75 to 100 Japanese students were touring the museum. Almost everyone who was viewing the exhibit with me was speaking Japanese!) I’ve always been fascinated by dolls. Growing up they were one of my favorite things to play with, and even now, when I spot a doll in a museum exhibit or antique store, I am drawn to it, wondering about their lives when they still belonged to someone. Japanese dolls are not exclusively play things, as they are in America, but the have a rich heritage in the country, thus making Japan, a “kingdom of dolls.”
There were over a dozen different categories of dolls on display: Hina and Gogatsu dolls are used in the celebration of the girls and boys festivals each spring, Noh and Bunraku dolls that depict different aspects of Japanese theater traditions, Oshie Hagoita are cut from thick paper and then wrapped with silk or cotton, Hakata dolls are molded from clay and then brilliantly painted, Ichimatsu dolls specifically depict Japanese children.
Despite all these different categories, nine times out of ten, Japanese dolls have very serene expressions and their clothing will point to the richness of Japan’s ancient costumes and pageantry. (Also, one interesting tidbit, the dolls’ faces are made from layers of pulverized oyster shells.) There was one doll which should have had anything but a serene expression on his face as it appeared he was about to be blown away by a gust of wind! He was balanced on the toes of one foot with his other leg kicked up at an angle in front of him, almost if he was preparing to step to the right with a flourished kick. The blue and white paper umbrella he was holding was thrust almost completely horizontal. There wasn’t a hint of shock or surprise registered on his face. He just looked like he was out for a pleasant stroll.
I was most drawn to the Kokeshi and Oyama dolls. The Kokeshi dolls are made from blocks of wood using Japanese woodturning techniques. The traditional dolls have long, rounded bodies with large rounded heads placed squarely on top. They are all uniform in size, shape and expression, and look like bowling pins all lined up, just with a slightly different silhouette! I like the creative Kokeshi dolls better. They began to be crafted after WWII, born of the craftsmen’s desire for free imagination. Some of these dolls are cylindrical while others are round and others are more square. Some have distinctive heads carved above the body, while others have a face that is just carved into the one piece of wood. Many of these dolls had intricate designs carved into their bodies. I was amazed to see the variety of emotions created in these dolls with a few lines and dots of paint for their facial features. The Oyama dolls wore elaborate hairstyles and costumes, depicting the fashions of Japanese women. Their clothing was vibrant made from reds and oranges, patterned with elaborate embroidery.
I certainly felt like an outsider trying to look in and understand the Japanese culture in a bit better through the frame provided by these dolls, but they certainly kept hidden more than they revealed. I left wondering about other cultures where dolls were important and how something that is just a plaything in one culture can take on such significance in another.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
My Favorite Flowers
Today was the gloomy variety of March days, and I was thankful to have these cheery daffodils, given to me by one of my friends, to brighten my table. I think part of the reason I love daffodils so much is because they seem to herald the beginning of spring. You can watch them bloom in a matter of hours, and they seem to be so full of eager life when their petals have fully opened.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
MOMCC in Kansas City
Yesterday I returned from three days in Kansas City, KS, where I attended the Spring MOMCC conference (Midwest Open-Air Museums Coordinating Council). Not only was I able to enjoy three days without looking at any snow, I was able to spend time with employees and volunteers from a variety of other museums and historical societies. Each spring and fall since I began working at Living History Farms, I’ve watched some of my coworkers head off to MOMCC and return excited about the people they’d spent time with and the workshops they attended. I was excited when my supervisor told me she wanted to send me this year. MOMCC ended up being a very different experience than I anticipated. A lot was packed into the three days, so the following are just a few highlights.
The conference was hosted by Mahaffie Stagecoach Stop & Farm Historic Site. (This is the only intact stagecoach stop left on the Santa Fe Trail.) On Thursday I took a slat sunbonnet workshop. I started sewing it while I was there, but it’s only about half finished. We were able to look at several historic sunbonnets while we worked on ours to see the variety of things that were done with them. My favorite bonnet was the doll slat sunbonnet, which was constructed precisely how we were making ours – just smaller! We also read some primary accounts of mid-nineteenth century women talking about how annoying it was to wear this large bonnet, with wooden slats in the brim to make it stand straight out from their faces, but how very practical it was at the same time.
Friday night we toured Mahaffie and rode in their reproduction stagecoaches. We crammed five women into our stagecoach, and it was quite cozy. I couldn’t even sit back in my seat. I can’t imagine traveling any sort of distance in one! My friend Lucy and I spent a lot of time in the kitchen looking at their cookbooks, several of which we have at our museum, and exclaiming over their tiny woodstove that they were managing to bake biscuits in. It certainly made me thankful for the large six-burner woodstove I get to cook on at Living History Farms. We discovered that they had a round woodpile also! We take great pride in our round woodpile at LHF, so I took a picture of Lucy next to it just as two Mahaffie interpreters rounded the corner. The gentleman proceeded to give us a hard time about it, saying we were only taking the photos to showoff to our co-workers how much better our woodpile was than theirs. They threatened to confiscate my camera later in the evening over it too! Honestly, I just thought it was neat that they also had a round woodpile, although it is true that ours is about four times bigger than theirs. However, they justified its size by explaining that they just butchered four pigs, so they had to burn through a lot of it. It was much bigger several weeks ago.
After several days of talking with other museum folk about where they work, I must say I am glad that I work at LHF. I love my museum, and I am thankful for my place there.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Happy St. David's Day!
I smiled when I turned my calendar this morning and saw that today is St. David’s Day! Whenever I hear of St. David, I am reminded of leeks, daffodils, and my semester abroad in Wales during my senior year of college. While there I studied at Trinity College in Carmarthen. There were about a dozen American students in my program. While we were encouraged to take classes that were apart of Trinity’s regular course offerings, thus getting to be in class with Welsh students, we were also required to take a Welsh culture class that was just for the American students. It was in this class that I first learned of St. David, the patron saint of Wales, and the tradition of wearing leeks on St. David’s Day.
St. David was born in Wales in the 6th century and made his mark by founding monastic settlements and churches as he helped spread Christianity among the pagan Celtic people of Wales. He also became the arch bishop of Wales. The leek became his symbol because of the strategic role it played in a battle between the Welsh and Saxons. In order for the Welsh to not confuse friend with foe, St. David told them to wear leeks in their hats to distinguish them from the Saxons. The Welsh were victorious as a result!
St. David was canonized in the 12th century, and as the Welsh began celebrating his feast day, it became tradition to wear a leek on March 1 to commemorate him. At some point, though, the women started pinning daffodils to their bodices, perhaps deciding that wearing a type of onion was not very feminine. (Our instructor told us that if we were in Wales during the spring semester we would see fields and fields of daffodils blooming.) Our instructor told us of a humorous contest that eventually became part of this leek wearing tradition – that of the longest leek! It was quite simple; the gentlemen would measure their leeks to see who was wearing the largest/longest one. I’m not quite sure what you received if you won or even what it proved to win this contest; I can’t quite see it being a mark of your masculinity, although I think that’s what it originally signified!
St. David was born in Wales in the 6th century and made his mark by founding monastic settlements and churches as he helped spread Christianity among the pagan Celtic people of Wales. He also became the arch bishop of Wales. The leek became his symbol because of the strategic role it played in a battle between the Welsh and Saxons. In order for the Welsh to not confuse friend with foe, St. David told them to wear leeks in their hats to distinguish them from the Saxons. The Welsh were victorious as a result!
St. David was canonized in the 12th century, and as the Welsh began celebrating his feast day, it became tradition to wear a leek on March 1 to commemorate him. At some point, though, the women started pinning daffodils to their bodices, perhaps deciding that wearing a type of onion was not very feminine. (Our instructor told us that if we were in Wales during the spring semester we would see fields and fields of daffodils blooming.) Our instructor told us of a humorous contest that eventually became part of this leek wearing tradition – that of the longest leek! It was quite simple; the gentlemen would measure their leeks to see who was wearing the largest/longest one. I’m not quite sure what you received if you won or even what it proved to win this contest; I can’t quite see it being a mark of your masculinity, although I think that’s what it originally signified! (I have a great photo of one of my friends holding a leek, but I can't find it right now, so I put in a picture of St. David's Cathedral in Wales instead. It was a beautiful place to see!)
Oh, I should also add that remembering St. David and leeks also reminds me of cock-a-leekie-soup and my dear friend, Clarissa, which makes me smile too!
Monday, January 25, 2010
Time to be Active!
If you had told me a week ago that I would buy a Wii, I would have laughed and said that I would never have any reason to spend that kind of money on a gaming system. Well, that reason came in the form of snow and ice upon snow and ice which has prevented me from going out for my daily walk for much too long now. I like being active and dislike going to a gym. Last week I reached the breaking point. I’ve been doing way too much sitting recently, so I started looking at compact exercise equipment that would give me a good work out without taking up much space in my small apartment. I talked with one of my friends about what I was thinking about getting. He told me I might think it a crazy idea, but he thought a Wii Fit might actually be the best option. His family has it and loves it. As I looked into it further, it seemed like it would be the best fit. It’s compact, has variety, and would get me moving again. So off to the store I went. I set it up successfully last night, which is a small feet in and of itself since I am not too technologically oriented, and I love it! Last night I went for a short run and played some tennis and baseball. This morning I did a hula-hoop activity and some strength training. The Wii has confirmed that I still have bad hand-eye coordination, a poor sense of rhythm, and not the best balance. Ah well, things to improve on I suppose as I watch the 50mph winds swirl the falling snow around outside once again. Perhaps I should try some yoga!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
The Lion King
Last night my sister and I attended The Lion King. I’d seen the Broadway musical when it was in Des Moines four years ago and was excited to see the performance again! My sister and I were about a dozen rows from the stage – far enough away to see the entire stage and close enough to see the performers’ facial expressions as well as the details of the costumes and puppets! It is amazing to think of all the individual talent that went into the creation of the show and was shared with us.
After the performance we stayed for a short Q&A session with four of the performers: two individuals from the ensemble, Tony Freeman who played Zazo, and Ben Lipitz who played Pumba. From them we learned that they actually have two complete sets. While one is being used, the other is in transit to the next location and assembled so when the show closes in one city, the performers can fly to the next city and be ready to rehearse/perform the very next day while the set is being torn down in the city they just left. Something usually goes wrong every performance. Last night, for example, the black curtains blocking the backstage from the stage quit working. The performers had to be extra quiet and had to be careful to stay out of the audiences’ line of sight. While one of the ensemble members, who is single and doesn’t have a mortgage, loves to travel all of the US performing, Freeman expressed how hard it can be to be separated from his wife and daughter for long periods of time. With their performance schedule, if the performers want to see their family, their family has to come to them. The performers only get two weeks vacation a year and often aren’t able to make it home to celebrate the holidays with their families. Despite these challenges, they love what they do. Freeman has been Zazo for nine years, and Lipitz has been with the show for seven years. They each mentioned what an exciting experience it is to tell this story each night in live theater. Hearing more about what it takes each individual to perform their part made me appreciate the show all the more.
Oh, I should also mention the other exciting component of our evening – the weather. When I bought our tickets about six weeks ago, I did so with the realization that with it being January, we could have a lovely evening for the performance or we could have a terrible storm which would prevent Rachel from driving to Des Moines from Lincoln and from us attending the performance at all. I crossed my fingers that it would be the former rather than the later. Unfortunately it was the later. Rachel came a day early to make sure she arrived before the forecasted ice storm. Yesterday morning we woke up to a world encased in ice. We had to skate, quite literally, across the parking lot to my car to chip all the ice off of it so we could go to dinner and then the performance. Fortunately, the roads were not slick, and we did not fall traversing the ice going to and from my car. The storm certainly added an element of danger to the experience, turning it into an adventure
After the performance we stayed for a short Q&A session with four of the performers: two individuals from the ensemble, Tony Freeman who played Zazo, and Ben Lipitz who played Pumba. From them we learned that they actually have two complete sets. While one is being used, the other is in transit to the next location and assembled so when the show closes in one city, the performers can fly to the next city and be ready to rehearse/perform the very next day while the set is being torn down in the city they just left. Something usually goes wrong every performance. Last night, for example, the black curtains blocking the backstage from the stage quit working. The performers had to be extra quiet and had to be careful to stay out of the audiences’ line of sight. While one of the ensemble members, who is single and doesn’t have a mortgage, loves to travel all of the US performing, Freeman expressed how hard it can be to be separated from his wife and daughter for long periods of time. With their performance schedule, if the performers want to see their family, their family has to come to them. The performers only get two weeks vacation a year and often aren’t able to make it home to celebrate the holidays with their families. Despite these challenges, they love what they do. Freeman has been Zazo for nine years, and Lipitz has been with the show for seven years. They each mentioned what an exciting experience it is to tell this story each night in live theater. Hearing more about what it takes each individual to perform their part made me appreciate the show all the more.
Oh, I should also mention the other exciting component of our evening – the weather. When I bought our tickets about six weeks ago, I did so with the realization that with it being January, we could have a lovely evening for the performance or we could have a terrible storm which would prevent Rachel from driving to Des Moines from Lincoln and from us attending the performance at all. I crossed my fingers that it would be the former rather than the later. Unfortunately it was the later. Rachel came a day early to make sure she arrived before the forecasted ice storm. Yesterday morning we woke up to a world encased in ice. We had to skate, quite literally, across the parking lot to my car to chip all the ice off of it so we could go to dinner and then the performance. Fortunately, the roads were not slick, and we did not fall traversing the ice going to and from my car. The storm certainly added an element of danger to the experience, turning it into an adventure
Saturday, December 26, 2009
A Truck, the Tree, and a TV
A Truck:
Almost two weeks ago, my brother bought a new truck after planning and talking about doing so for the last several years. It’s a large Ford F150, with an extended cab and 5 ½ foot bed. With two wheel and four wheel drive, he feels his truck can get through anything, and indeed it seems it can. With his truck he is more than willing to play the hero, transporting us through the ice and snow that our little cars are helpless against. It was his truck that enabled our family to have Christmas this year.
I drove to Lincoln Monday, thankful to be able to arrive ahead of a massive storm system that was preparing to move through the Midwest. It moved slowly, arriving in Lincoln later than scheduled but living up to its potential, dropping rain, ice and snow all across the state. Christmas Eve services went ahead as scheduled in Lincoln, although they were cancelled in many communities west of us. The weather was deteriorating as the time for us to leave for church approached, and Dad didn’t want to risk it. My mom, dad, sister and I had our own little service at home, while my brother and sister-in-law went to church.
They arrived in the midst of swirling fluffy snow a bit later in the evening for our traditional meal of clam chowder, cheese and crackers, and snowman roll. When it was time for my sister to leave at 10pm for her overnight shift, my brother was more than happy to give her a ride there and to take me for a ride in the new truck. The roads were bad but not horrible, and he was quite pleased to demonstrate just how effective four wheel drive is compared to two wheel drive when driving through snow-filled streets. He laughed at me when I still grabbed the handle on the door, certain that the back end of the truck would still swing out and smack one of the cars parked quietly on the road!
Christmas morning, Peter and Liz picked my sister up at work and came over for gifts and dinner. The roads had become quite horrible overnight. Without the truck, Liz said, they wouldn’t have been able to make it across town. Peter had bought his truck just in time.
The Tree:
Growing up, we had always had a live Christmas tree. Getting poked by pine needles and having sap residue left on your fingers as you decorated was just part of the festivities. When I went to college, my parents started using an artificial tree. I missed the fresh pine smell the most, but I had to admit that not having hundreds of pine needles to clean up once we took the tree down was a nice change. We wouldn’t have to worry about the tree falling over and soaking our gifts either as had happened on past Christmases
This year, in Victorian fashion, we didn’t decorate our 5 foot, artificial tree until Tuesday night. Dad had actually set it up about two weeks ago with Mom adding lights a week later. It was finally time for the ornaments to be hung! We hung beaded angels, stars, umbrella, gazebos, and icicles. The finished effect was quite nice. But not two hours later, as Mom and I sat at the dining room table, we heard a rustle, a whoosh, and a plop as the tree landed on its side. We picked it up, Mom weighted the base, we redecorated the side that had smashed against the carpet, and we rearranged the gifts under the tree, thankful that none had gotten wet. All seemed to be well.
Christmas Eve morning I was awakened to Mom’s hurried whisper, “Allison, the tree fell down again! Can you come help me?! I was just sitting at the table and there it went.” I crawled out of bed to embark on our mission to rescue the tree, but it was not to be. We tried taping the base with duck tape, but when I’d let go of the trunk, it just listed to the side, pulling the duck tape up with it. We tried tying it up, but there wasn’t an effective place to tie it to. Finally, we just decided to give up on the tall tree and nab my sister’s small two foot tree so we’d at least have something to put our gifts under!
“The fake tree fell over?!” my brother said later. “How is that possible?!” How indeed.
A TV:
Six weeks ago my brother called me to see if I would be interested in going in on a flat screen TV for our dad for Christmas. He thought it would be an awesome gift for him; he would never suspect it in a million years, and he would absolutely love it. I agreed. It would be the perfect gift.
We set our plan in motion. The day after Thanksgiving, my sister-in-law braved the 5am Target crowds to secure a spectacular TV at a great price. The day before Christmas Eve, my brother delivered the 32” Sony TV to our house and hid it in my mom’s closet.
On Christmas morning, Mom kept Dad busy in the kitchen so Liz and Peter could hide the clues and Peter could set up the TV in Dad’s study. The surprise was almost spoiled when Dad decided he needed to go upstairs to get a hat to wear during gift opening. His head was cold. Rachel, Liz and I looked at each other trying to figure out how to stop him without giving anything away. Fortunately Peter came down the stairs as Dad was just getting ready to head up, blocking the way. He forbade him from going upstairs and found Dad’s stocking cap for him to wear.
Gift giving proceeded as usual. Finally, there was just one gift under the tree – Dad’s first clue. He unwrapped one clue and then another, making his way upstairs, the rest of us following along behind. When Dad opened the last clue, the instruction manual for the TV, Dad opened it and said, “Are you serious, you have to be kidding.” He just stood by the study door, disbelieving. “Open the door and see!” Mom said. He opened the door a smidge, hardly believing his eyes. “Wow,” was all he could say. “Wow. Wow.” Then a round of hugs. We all admired the TV before traipsing back down the stairs to get our turkey dinner on the table.
We played Wii that afternoon on the big screen and later the guys watched basketball. Dad watched Lord of the Rings last night. Everything is so much sharper now and that much better. He is looking forward to watching his PBS specials in high definition. He most certainly is set for years to come, and how special for us to be the bearers of such a gift!
Almost two weeks ago, my brother bought a new truck after planning and talking about doing so for the last several years. It’s a large Ford F150, with an extended cab and 5 ½ foot bed. With two wheel and four wheel drive, he feels his truck can get through anything, and indeed it seems it can. With his truck he is more than willing to play the hero, transporting us through the ice and snow that our little cars are helpless against. It was his truck that enabled our family to have Christmas this year.
I drove to Lincoln Monday, thankful to be able to arrive ahead of a massive storm system that was preparing to move through the Midwest. It moved slowly, arriving in Lincoln later than scheduled but living up to its potential, dropping rain, ice and snow all across the state. Christmas Eve services went ahead as scheduled in Lincoln, although they were cancelled in many communities west of us. The weather was deteriorating as the time for us to leave for church approached, and Dad didn’t want to risk it. My mom, dad, sister and I had our own little service at home, while my brother and sister-in-law went to church.
They arrived in the midst of swirling fluffy snow a bit later in the evening for our traditional meal of clam chowder, cheese and crackers, and snowman roll. When it was time for my sister to leave at 10pm for her overnight shift, my brother was more than happy to give her a ride there and to take me for a ride in the new truck. The roads were bad but not horrible, and he was quite pleased to demonstrate just how effective four wheel drive is compared to two wheel drive when driving through snow-filled streets. He laughed at me when I still grabbed the handle on the door, certain that the back end of the truck would still swing out and smack one of the cars parked quietly on the road!
Christmas morning, Peter and Liz picked my sister up at work and came over for gifts and dinner. The roads had become quite horrible overnight. Without the truck, Liz said, they wouldn’t have been able to make it across town. Peter had bought his truck just in time.
The Tree:
Growing up, we had always had a live Christmas tree. Getting poked by pine needles and having sap residue left on your fingers as you decorated was just part of the festivities. When I went to college, my parents started using an artificial tree. I missed the fresh pine smell the most, but I had to admit that not having hundreds of pine needles to clean up once we took the tree down was a nice change. We wouldn’t have to worry about the tree falling over and soaking our gifts either as had happened on past Christmases
This year, in Victorian fashion, we didn’t decorate our 5 foot, artificial tree until Tuesday night. Dad had actually set it up about two weeks ago with Mom adding lights a week later. It was finally time for the ornaments to be hung! We hung beaded angels, stars, umbrella, gazebos, and icicles. The finished effect was quite nice. But not two hours later, as Mom and I sat at the dining room table, we heard a rustle, a whoosh, and a plop as the tree landed on its side. We picked it up, Mom weighted the base, we redecorated the side that had smashed against the carpet, and we rearranged the gifts under the tree, thankful that none had gotten wet. All seemed to be well.
Christmas Eve morning I was awakened to Mom’s hurried whisper, “Allison, the tree fell down again! Can you come help me?! I was just sitting at the table and there it went.” I crawled out of bed to embark on our mission to rescue the tree, but it was not to be. We tried taping the base with duck tape, but when I’d let go of the trunk, it just listed to the side, pulling the duck tape up with it. We tried tying it up, but there wasn’t an effective place to tie it to. Finally, we just decided to give up on the tall tree and nab my sister’s small two foot tree so we’d at least have something to put our gifts under!
“The fake tree fell over?!” my brother said later. “How is that possible?!” How indeed.
A TV:
Six weeks ago my brother called me to see if I would be interested in going in on a flat screen TV for our dad for Christmas. He thought it would be an awesome gift for him; he would never suspect it in a million years, and he would absolutely love it. I agreed. It would be the perfect gift.
We set our plan in motion. The day after Thanksgiving, my sister-in-law braved the 5am Target crowds to secure a spectacular TV at a great price. The day before Christmas Eve, my brother delivered the 32” Sony TV to our house and hid it in my mom’s closet.
On Christmas morning, Mom kept Dad busy in the kitchen so Liz and Peter could hide the clues and Peter could set up the TV in Dad’s study. The surprise was almost spoiled when Dad decided he needed to go upstairs to get a hat to wear during gift opening. His head was cold. Rachel, Liz and I looked at each other trying to figure out how to stop him without giving anything away. Fortunately Peter came down the stairs as Dad was just getting ready to head up, blocking the way. He forbade him from going upstairs and found Dad’s stocking cap for him to wear.
Gift giving proceeded as usual. Finally, there was just one gift under the tree – Dad’s first clue. He unwrapped one clue and then another, making his way upstairs, the rest of us following along behind. When Dad opened the last clue, the instruction manual for the TV, Dad opened it and said, “Are you serious, you have to be kidding.” He just stood by the study door, disbelieving. “Open the door and see!” Mom said. He opened the door a smidge, hardly believing his eyes. “Wow,” was all he could say. “Wow. Wow.” Then a round of hugs. We all admired the TV before traipsing back down the stairs to get our turkey dinner on the table.
We played Wii that afternoon on the big screen and later the guys watched basketball. Dad watched Lord of the Rings last night. Everything is so much sharper now and that much better. He is looking forward to watching his PBS specials in high definition. He most certainly is set for years to come, and how special for us to be the bearers of such a gift!
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