~ Artist and designer Ron Finley could not help but notice what
was going on in his backyard, South
Central Los Angeles. Describing the area as “the home of the drive-thru and the
drive-by,” Finley decided that it was way past time to try and do something
about just one aspect of the many issues facing the area―and that was (and is)
the area’s poor health and high mortality rate, with one in two kids
contracting a curable disease like Type 2 diabetes.
He started working with the organization L.A. GreenGrounds to install a vegetable garden on the 150
ft x 10 ft patch of ground in front of his house, that strip between the
sidewalk and the street that the city owns but the resident has to keep up.
What happened when he did this, becomes the heart of this inspiring talk, which
has in turn inspired many other people in L.A. and elsewhere to take control of
their health and urban environments.
"We’ve got to make this [gardening] sexy,” he
proclaims. “Let’s all become renegades, gangsta gardeners. We have to flip the
script on what a gangsta is. If you ain’t a gardener, you ain’t gangsta. Let
that be your weapon of choice!”
This odd building stands on the corner of 161st Street
and Melrose Avenue, New York City. It is a bit over 4ft. in depth, 17ft.
frontage, and one and a-half storeys high, with a basement and sub-basement
built under the broad sidewalk, extending to the curb. The house itself is of
wood, on a steel frame, and has a slate roof.
Its owner is an eccentric tailor, who lives and carries
on his trade below the street. The interior consists of a small show-room, a
store-room, and spiral iron stairway going down to the "lower
regions." The upper storey seems to have been constructed merely as a
finishing touch. It is reached by an iron ladder from the store-room. The
entire construction, appointments, and fittings are very ingenious, and are all
the ideas of the owner.
The story of the house is that the original lot was cut
away in opening the avenue, save only the few feet now occupied by the
building. A controversy arose between the tailor and the owner of the adjoining
property regarding the disposal of the small strip, and the tailor becoming
enraged because his neighbour would neither sell his property nor pay the price
the knight of the shears demanded, built this odd structure out of spite. The
photo. was taken just at the completion of the building, and before the street
had been fully paved. It shows, however, the dimensions of the building, and
also the construction under the street, etc. Photo. sent in by Mr. W. R. Yard,
156, Fifth Avenue, New York City."
Recently, I was indulging my curiosity on the Gutenberg site, and on a whim decided to take a look at a copy of The Strand Magazine, dating from February 1899. To my delight I saw a piece called 'The Spite House', which I have reproduced in full above. Of course, I immediately had to Google the address (161st
Street and Melrose Avenue, New York City), and used Street View to see what
buildings were standing at the intersection today, and not surprisingly this
odd little building has long disappeared.
I love the serendipitous nature of the Internet, and how one link leads to another and then another. I also take delight in discovering amazing facts and bits of information about any number of things I may not have been specifically searching for, but gain great satisfaction from learning about anyway. One such example, out of many, involves my regular monitoring of the latest uploads to Gutenberg.Org. I have written before about this wonderful organization that has digitised more than 40,000 books, which are now in the public domain (that is, copyright free). The books are then made freely available via their website.
I’ll have more to say about Project Gutenberg at a future
date, but until then, why not check the site out for yourself.
You will be amazed at the range of books and authors available via the site.
~ On Saturday, June 14, 2008, a Festival of Greek Dance was
held in the village of Rahes, on the Aegean island of Ikaria, and this film,
one of several I have put together, shows the final dance of the night. The
tune is known as the Ikariotiko (or The Ikarian), and is the island’s
traditional tune and dance.
The festival took place on the village basketball court,
under lights that attracted hundreds of moths and other airborne insects which
fell constantly onto the heads of the audience below. This probably explains
why only half the lights were turned on during the performances. Unfortunately,
this also made it extremely difficult to get good, well lit footage of the
dances.
Audience chatter and the constant movement of children and
adults across the 'stage' seems to be part and parcel of any event of this
type, given the location, and the hot summer night. In the end, it all goes
towards creating yet another unforgettable and unique Greek island experience.
The wonderful thing about this festival is the way the
community totally involves itself in the event. Rather than assume the constant
chatter and movement as being disrespectful to the musicians and dancers, it is
instead a sign of the audiences involvement and connection with the music and
dancing.
Quite frankly, I'm surprised the adults didn't get up and
dance during the three hour show themselves. Greeks find it very difficult to
sit and watch something like this, when their natural inclination is to get up
and join in.
Throughout the night, local children stood at the edges of
the performance space intently watching the feet of the dancers, while they
tried to follow the steps of each dance. As everyone (dance troupes and
visitors alike), got ready to join the final dance.
This was the signal for children of all ages to join the
long lines―generally at the end of each line, as tradition dictates―to learn,
and carry on the island traditions. It would of course be unthinkable to tell
the children to keep out of the way while the adults did 'their thing'. The
children are literally learning at the feet of the adult dancers.
The music is performed here on a Tsampouna, an instrument
made out of goat skin, which has obvious links to the Scottish bagpipe and the
gaida. I should also add, the Ikariotiko is played constantly at festivals,
weddings, parties, in deed at celebrations and occasions of all types. And not
just once per night, but many times. Each musician has his or her own variation
of the tune, and some musicians are still remembered and spoken about today,
long after their passing, because of the way they played the dance. I love how
the musician actually spends a full minute and 20 seconds (1:20), playing an
extended introduction to the main tune. This gives audience and performers
alike plenty of time to make their way onto the basketball court and join lines
in readiness for the dance to begin.
To my great regret, I did not get the name of the female
playing the Tsampouna, nor did I take any footage of her during the dance,
which finished off the evening's entertainment. However, as chance would have
it, she happened to walk past my camera just before I turned it off at the end
of the dance. I have captured a frame from the video and added it as a still
image just before the final credits appear as a way to acknowledge her
performance.
A comment added to one of my other videos suggests the
musician is Eva Kratsa. Another source thought she lived on the island of
Mykonos.
