Great Falls Tribune, April 12, 2009
Desert Sun sparkles on Chihuly's glass art
Imagine unpacking 750 crates of Dale Chihuly original hand blown glass and then, installing his innovative sculptures in a Sonoran desert setting for six months.
Finally, after long term planning, the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix, Arizona, is excited to display the unique works of the renown artist.
“This is a dynamic space for Chihuly’s artwork, and he took a leap of faith to do this,” said Elaine McGinn, the Garden’s Director of Planning and Exhibits, alluding to the fact that art venues worldwide would love to have it.
“In the garden world, this is the blockbuster,” adds McGinn.
Exhibitions of Chihuly’s work have been mounted in conservatories and botanical gardens elsewhere, but this is his first installation entirely within a desert garden environment.
Over a period of two years, Chihuly and his site design team made three visits photographing the 145 acres of the Garden which display 50,000 desert plants along thematic trails. They took notes and pictures back to the planning board in his studio on Lake Union in Seattle, Washington.
Ultimately, Chihuly created three desert wildflower towers just for this exhibition which were packed along with other grand scale vibrant colored sculptures into five semi load trucks for the trip to Arizona last November.
A team of twenty took twelve days to install the seventeen major installations, and seven other small areas with placed glass. It took six days alone to put together the Sun which has 1200 individual pieces. Some of the chandeliers took half a day to hang.
As you stroll through the Garden, you see how Chihuly’s shapes of glass reflect imaginary plants and monumental organic shapes, large creations that seem impossible to build. Through his plan they are placed in interesting places.
A boat full of celestial blue pieces is unique in that it is placed under a tree, not on water. “
Chihuly liked the idea of suggestion of water in this space,” explains McGinn.
Yet, in another area, floating polyurethane cubes mystify a marshy desert grass area.
“How in the world do they bring these pieces in without being broken,” asks Al Bauer, who drove from San Jose, California just to see the exhibition. “This is way off the scale I’m so impressed by the glass sculptures and every cactus perfectly placed, but naturally where it should be.”
It is no surprise that Chihuly likes to display his art in nature’s settings. Many of his glass orbs and shapes look like flowers and stocks of plants, so the glass and the garden seem to fit together.
Over the years, Chihuly’s creations have spanned a wide vocabulary of forms such as baskets, seaforms, Ikebana, and chandeliers. His new flower forms are reminiscent of early pieces that he made at the Pilchuck Glass School which he cofounded in 1971 near Stanwood, Washington.
Originally from Tacoma, Washington, Chihuly began blowing glass in 1965. He earned a BA from the University of Washington, and finished his graduate studies at the Rhode Island School of Design. In 1968, he received a Fulbright scholarship to study at the Venini glass factory in Venice, Italy. It was at Venini that he learned and developed the team model of blowing glass. Having lost an eye in an automobile accident, and later injuring a shoulder, Chihuly eventually gave up being the “gaffer,” the master blower. Today, his practice of collaborative teams enhances his creative process.
Chihuly’s structures start out as hundreds or even, thousands of individual pieces of glass. Then, the glass pieces are attached to enormous metal structures. (armatures, that look like steel skeletons) It takes many people, to create these beautiful glass sculptures from start to finish. Putting them all together for an exhibition takes specialists in lighting, neon towers, and installation.
With a smile and a sense of pride, McGinn relates,“In a world class garden, it feels right to be hosting a world glass garden. We will all be sad when it leaves. Since it opened in November, the show has exceeded all expectations.”
If you go:
Chihuly: The Nature of Glass through May 31
Exhibition Hours: 8 am – 8 pm
Timed Admissions: 8 am – 12 pm; 12 – 4 pm; 4 – 8 pm
Advanced reservation is required.
Prices for non-members are: Adults: $15; Seniors: $13.50; Students:$7.50; Children: $5
Phoenix Botanical Garden
1201 N. Galvin Parkway
Phoenix, AZ 85008
To purchase admissions log on to dbg.org or call: 480-481-8188.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Spend a day in Spokane's park
Great Falls Tribune, July 26, 2009
Spend a day in Spokane's park
I thought that Riverfront Park in Spokane, Washington would be just an afternoon “walk in the park,” to lollygag and enjoy a restful hour along the Spokane River.
It is that, and much more.
Sitting on a park bench enfolded in the larger than life shadow of artist Ken Spiering’s Radio Flyer Red Wagon, my mind wandered from the rapid glee of children sliding down the twelve foot high wagon handle to the crashing sounds of nearby white water.
Activity and energy surrounded me on these 100 acres of land where the Native Americans once gathered and fished; where pioneers settled and started the city of Spokane; and, where eventually, the city’s growth was fueled by the railroad industry. As history progressed, rail yards covered Havermale Island, the present site of Riverfront Park.
When Spokane became the site of Expo ’74, “The World’s Fair,” the rail yards were removed leaving only the Clocktower from the 1902 depot.
Today, you can set your watch by the clock tower looming 155 feet in the distance. Once a week, a technician climbs five stories to rewind the gigantic time piece.
A second glance lured me closer to the water and the spectacular Spokane Falls SkyRide. There‘s no better view than the fifteen minute ride in the all weather enclosed cabin that fearlessly glides high over the tumbling falls. The calculated slow pace moves you past art deco City Hall, and then, with mist spitting water circles on the cable car window, it gradually drops down 200 feet over the Huntington Park Natural Area. After several stops which allow fantastic photo ops, the SkyRide continues under the historic Monroe Street Bridge with a return to the Riverfront Park.
With my feet on the ground, but not for long, I waited briefly in line to board the Loof Carrousel, a 1909 hand carved carrousel that features: 54 horses, one giraffe, one tiger, and two Chinese dragon chairs. Feeling like a kid again, I swung my leg over the long necked giraffe and claimed my steed for several up and down laps on this animated merry go round. But, I wasn’t quick enough to catch the golden ring (like some of the younger riders) for a free second ride. Nevertheless, I hesitated in dismounting for a long last look at the beautiful animals, preserved so well that they merit a spot on the National Register of Historic Places.
I waived the temptation for cotton candy and ice cream cones as the extended carrousel exit queue satisfies the sweet tooth for many riders.
But, my appetite for art was met as I stumbled upon the nearby Sculpture Walk which highlights seventeen original sculptures placed throughout the park. Most prominently viewed, and and easily seen by motorists, are David Govedare’s metal people which depict runners of all kinds celebrating the Spokane tradition of Bloomsday, one of the largest 12K road running races in our country. Spokane’s Vietnam Veterans are respectfully remembered in the engraved pedestal of Deborah Copenhaver’s memorial sculpture. One can’t help but smile at Sister Paula Turnbull’s corten steel sculpture of a goat. The popular statue, usually surrounded by children, will eat small pieces of trash with the aid of its vacuum digestive system. The Sculpture Walk continues along the Centennial Trail with many equally inspiring and thought provoking pieces.
At the south entrance to Riverfront Park, artist, Harold Balazs, “Rotary Fountain” invites all park goers to beat the summer heat. Five stainless steel columns support a 30 foot diameter ring that contains 40 overhead jets. The jets spray towards the middle of the fountain producing a dome of water and a waterfall in the fountains. If you don’t care to get wet, it is just entertaining to admire the beauty of the fountain and watch the dancing waters soak up the dashing bodies of children and adults, as well.
And, oh, yes, there still is a train in Riverfront Park. The Spokane Falls Northern Railway Tour Train makes a forty minute loop through the park. You can relax and enjoy the ride as the conductor highlights points of interest and historical facts.
The hour stretches into a day at Riverfront Park as there is much more to catch: a movie at the IMAX theater, amusement rides, and mini golf. Even a planned picnic or a sandwich from the Pavilion’s catering menu will satisfy one’s desire to stay.
Riverfront Park is a popular gathering place for locals, like Pam Leonard who describes it as a “must see” for anyone living in Spokane or just visiting.
Sometimes our adventures aspire us to chase melting glaciers and shoreline seas.
With white water, fountains, carrousels, trains, and art, Spokane’s Riverfront Park is something to remember.
Spend a day in Spokane's park
I thought that Riverfront Park in Spokane, Washington would be just an afternoon “walk in the park,” to lollygag and enjoy a restful hour along the Spokane River.
It is that, and much more.
Sitting on a park bench enfolded in the larger than life shadow of artist Ken Spiering’s Radio Flyer Red Wagon, my mind wandered from the rapid glee of children sliding down the twelve foot high wagon handle to the crashing sounds of nearby white water.
Activity and energy surrounded me on these 100 acres of land where the Native Americans once gathered and fished; where pioneers settled and started the city of Spokane; and, where eventually, the city’s growth was fueled by the railroad industry. As history progressed, rail yards covered Havermale Island, the present site of Riverfront Park.
When Spokane became the site of Expo ’74, “The World’s Fair,” the rail yards were removed leaving only the Clocktower from the 1902 depot.
Today, you can set your watch by the clock tower looming 155 feet in the distance. Once a week, a technician climbs five stories to rewind the gigantic time piece.
A second glance lured me closer to the water and the spectacular Spokane Falls SkyRide. There‘s no better view than the fifteen minute ride in the all weather enclosed cabin that fearlessly glides high over the tumbling falls. The calculated slow pace moves you past art deco City Hall, and then, with mist spitting water circles on the cable car window, it gradually drops down 200 feet over the Huntington Park Natural Area. After several stops which allow fantastic photo ops, the SkyRide continues under the historic Monroe Street Bridge with a return to the Riverfront Park.
With my feet on the ground, but not for long, I waited briefly in line to board the Loof Carrousel, a 1909 hand carved carrousel that features: 54 horses, one giraffe, one tiger, and two Chinese dragon chairs. Feeling like a kid again, I swung my leg over the long necked giraffe and claimed my steed for several up and down laps on this animated merry go round. But, I wasn’t quick enough to catch the golden ring (like some of the younger riders) for a free second ride. Nevertheless, I hesitated in dismounting for a long last look at the beautiful animals, preserved so well that they merit a spot on the National Register of Historic Places.
I waived the temptation for cotton candy and ice cream cones as the extended carrousel exit queue satisfies the sweet tooth for many riders.
But, my appetite for art was met as I stumbled upon the nearby Sculpture Walk which highlights seventeen original sculptures placed throughout the park. Most prominently viewed, and and easily seen by motorists, are David Govedare’s metal people which depict runners of all kinds celebrating the Spokane tradition of Bloomsday, one of the largest 12K road running races in our country. Spokane’s Vietnam Veterans are respectfully remembered in the engraved pedestal of Deborah Copenhaver’s memorial sculpture. One can’t help but smile at Sister Paula Turnbull’s corten steel sculpture of a goat. The popular statue, usually surrounded by children, will eat small pieces of trash with the aid of its vacuum digestive system. The Sculpture Walk continues along the Centennial Trail with many equally inspiring and thought provoking pieces.
At the south entrance to Riverfront Park, artist, Harold Balazs, “Rotary Fountain” invites all park goers to beat the summer heat. Five stainless steel columns support a 30 foot diameter ring that contains 40 overhead jets. The jets spray towards the middle of the fountain producing a dome of water and a waterfall in the fountains. If you don’t care to get wet, it is just entertaining to admire the beauty of the fountain and watch the dancing waters soak up the dashing bodies of children and adults, as well.
And, oh, yes, there still is a train in Riverfront Park. The Spokane Falls Northern Railway Tour Train makes a forty minute loop through the park. You can relax and enjoy the ride as the conductor highlights points of interest and historical facts.
The hour stretches into a day at Riverfront Park as there is much more to catch: a movie at the IMAX theater, amusement rides, and mini golf. Even a planned picnic or a sandwich from the Pavilion’s catering menu will satisfy one’s desire to stay.
Riverfront Park is a popular gathering place for locals, like Pam Leonard who describes it as a “must see” for anyone living in Spokane or just visiting.
Sometimes our adventures aspire us to chase melting glaciers and shoreline seas.
With white water, fountains, carrousels, trains, and art, Spokane’s Riverfront Park is something to remember.
Evolving from Nature: Sculptor Tom Dean brings exotic wood to life
Big Sky Journal Arts 2009
Evolving from Nature: Sculptor Tom Dean brings exotic wood to life
“I want to become the best at my art,” says Thomas Milo Dean, of Milo Creek Carvings, as he peers over a ten foot by four and a half foot sculpture made of African Bubinga, Oregon Manzania, and Montana Juniper wood. Tipped at thirty degrees, the grand hand carved piece eventually will make a whole river environment with fifteen to twenty fish, frogs, cattails, and dragonflies.
The monumental project, Dean’s “signature piece,” in the works for over a year, will soon be permanently displayed at Big R Supply in Great Falls, Montana.
As CEO Wayne Wike relates, after seeing some of Dean’s work, “it is a great fit for what the fly fishing shop needed as part of our outdoor story.”
Dean aims to bring the outdoors in for a growing audience that appreciates the remarkable, real life beauty, of his carvings made from exotic woods.
Hovering intently over other designs in his Great Falls studio/garage, Dean takes pride and ownership in an emerging art career that has eclipsed his years of working in pharmaceutical sales and orthopedic appliances.
He launches his story of a passion that subliminally yearned within him for years.
When he quit working for Merck Pharmaceutical, “it was the scariest thing he had ever done.” No paycheck, a wife, and a family to support. Then, his sister from Seattle, sent him an old dremel tool. He got out a piece of pine and carved out a prototype of a paddle fish, and other small projects. But, he wasn’t making any money, so he went back to work 24/7 for Zimmer, an orthopedic product manufacturer.
When he had time, he kept carving.
A friend saw some of his fish carvings and encouraged him to enter a Christmas art show. She wanted twenty of them, but all he could make was one, which he sold for sixty dollars.
Told with riveting candor, he laughs: “I still have the three twenty dollar bills.”
That was the kicker. He thought “wow” if he could sell one, he could sell others.
The “wow” was in others eyes, like the “one that got away,” relates Jan Robitaille, who bought that first piece as a Christmas gift.
“There’s something remarkable about his work that immediately drew me in: the feel, the look, the beauty of it. Our son-in-law loved the piece and it is a treasure for our family to have. I just hope that one day I’ll own something of his.”
Soon, he was working in the garage for hours. Patti Jo would have to rescue him for dinner. He would be back carving at six in the morning.
He had a feeling in his soul, that he could be successful. He believed in himself, knew his genre, and had over one hundred ideas.
However, his personal vision was met with some paternal skepticism from his father, Dr. Bob Dean, a retired pediatric dentist, and, an artist who has worked in many media. Dean pursued despite his father’s doubt believing that “there is one thing in each and every one of us, a gift in life, and if it is presented at the right time, we can do it.”
For Dean, that time was now, forty-five years later.
“I knew that Dean was born with a special talent,” said art collector, Mike Goss, who prominently displays a Dean sculpture of a brown trout going after a dragonfly in the reeds, titled: “Last Call.”
“Through his younger years, he was fishing, hunting, enjoying other things. Now, he has taken his talent into his hands and is sculpting so we all can enjoy it. Until you share your talent, you don’t understand the impact you have on people. His talent is not something he picked up, but something he was born with,” attests Goss.
For the lanky, friendly, blue eyed Dean, there are discoveries to be made in life, often underscored by life’s experiences.
Today, Dean speaks in a long dialog about his work and the vivacity of his imagination.
He has been serious about his art since March 2007 when he sold some pieces in a dealer’s room at the C.M.Russell Art Auction.
Dean has no formal art training, rather, he likes to think that his art is continually evolving from his understanding the anatomy of his subjects.
He grew up in Great Falls, and learned to fly fish with a bamboo rod given to him by his grandfather, Milo. The family had a cabin on the Smith River, and as a young boy, Dean recalls his grandfather’s stories that drew him in about life and the outdoors. Milo Creek Carving is a tribute to that “wonderful, decent, honest man, who always had time for me,” he says.
Pulling out one of his first fish silhouettes, a flat sided swimmer, Dean brandishes the framework of his early efforts.
He explains that his work is subtractive art. He starts backwards. He makes the components like a puzzle, and then, puts them together.
Dean immerses himself in each original project. If he makes a fish, he first decides on the size, and the shape. Then, he finds a wood that is just right for the characterization. He hand draws the outline of the fish. He cuts the fish out from a big block of dense, strong, exotic wood: Tigerwood, African Mahagony,Koa, Bubinga, Jatoba, Zebrawood, Beruvian Rosewood. He likes to work with the natural beauty of the wood. No painting or fillers are applied.
His tool bar includes: a dremel, knife, band saw, aggressive bits, several sanders, including the Guinevere, an inflatable rubber sander. Indeed, Dean credits his silky smooth surfaces to the Guinevere, a tool invented by Arthur Aveling of King Arthur’s Tools. In return, Mr. Aveling lauds Dean’s exquisite wood carvings in his national advertising.
Aveling describes Dean as a “magnificent artist” who captures the beauty of fish. He is proud to have an artist of Dean’s caliber using their products. Dean’s fish carving,” Brown on the Smith River” sits proudly on Aveling’s desk in Tallahassee, Florida.
A fly fisherman for forty years, Dean draws the viewer into an underwater scene that may include water weeds, insects, and aquatic animals. He adds Montana juniper where appropriate, having collected the twisted wood from eastern Montana.
In his work, he tries to capture that one “moment in time,” capturing the “really big one.”
Kent Klewein of Reel Job Fishing in Georgia, casts numerous nods to Dean’s work. Klewein uses a picture of one of Dean’s carved fish in his blog that touts his guiding business.
Occasionally his clients want a replica mount of their fish, and “Dean is the only guy that does one of a kind pieces out of exotic wood,” said Klewein.
Dean acknowledges that there is a lot of versatility in his art.
This year, 2009, Dean was nominated for the Montana Circle of American Masters. An honor he humbly acknowledges. Because of the distinction, he has been encouraged to teach his wood carving art for the betterment of cultural history.
Ever evolving, Dean refers to his inner voice that says you’ve never reached your pinnacle.
Mention his inspiration, and he always comes back to his family.
“I really do this for Patti Jo and the kids, and I aim to be the best,” he concludes.
Evolving from Nature: Sculptor Tom Dean brings exotic wood to life
“I want to become the best at my art,” says Thomas Milo Dean, of Milo Creek Carvings, as he peers over a ten foot by four and a half foot sculpture made of African Bubinga, Oregon Manzania, and Montana Juniper wood. Tipped at thirty degrees, the grand hand carved piece eventually will make a whole river environment with fifteen to twenty fish, frogs, cattails, and dragonflies.
The monumental project, Dean’s “signature piece,” in the works for over a year, will soon be permanently displayed at Big R Supply in Great Falls, Montana.
As CEO Wayne Wike relates, after seeing some of Dean’s work, “it is a great fit for what the fly fishing shop needed as part of our outdoor story.”
Dean aims to bring the outdoors in for a growing audience that appreciates the remarkable, real life beauty, of his carvings made from exotic woods.
Hovering intently over other designs in his Great Falls studio/garage, Dean takes pride and ownership in an emerging art career that has eclipsed his years of working in pharmaceutical sales and orthopedic appliances.
He launches his story of a passion that subliminally yearned within him for years.
When he quit working for Merck Pharmaceutical, “it was the scariest thing he had ever done.” No paycheck, a wife, and a family to support. Then, his sister from Seattle, sent him an old dremel tool. He got out a piece of pine and carved out a prototype of a paddle fish, and other small projects. But, he wasn’t making any money, so he went back to work 24/7 for Zimmer, an orthopedic product manufacturer.
When he had time, he kept carving.
A friend saw some of his fish carvings and encouraged him to enter a Christmas art show. She wanted twenty of them, but all he could make was one, which he sold for sixty dollars.
Told with riveting candor, he laughs: “I still have the three twenty dollar bills.”
That was the kicker. He thought “wow” if he could sell one, he could sell others.
The “wow” was in others eyes, like the “one that got away,” relates Jan Robitaille, who bought that first piece as a Christmas gift.
“There’s something remarkable about his work that immediately drew me in: the feel, the look, the beauty of it. Our son-in-law loved the piece and it is a treasure for our family to have. I just hope that one day I’ll own something of his.”
Soon, he was working in the garage for hours. Patti Jo would have to rescue him for dinner. He would be back carving at six in the morning.
He had a feeling in his soul, that he could be successful. He believed in himself, knew his genre, and had over one hundred ideas.
However, his personal vision was met with some paternal skepticism from his father, Dr. Bob Dean, a retired pediatric dentist, and, an artist who has worked in many media. Dean pursued despite his father’s doubt believing that “there is one thing in each and every one of us, a gift in life, and if it is presented at the right time, we can do it.”
For Dean, that time was now, forty-five years later.
“I knew that Dean was born with a special talent,” said art collector, Mike Goss, who prominently displays a Dean sculpture of a brown trout going after a dragonfly in the reeds, titled: “Last Call.”
“Through his younger years, he was fishing, hunting, enjoying other things. Now, he has taken his talent into his hands and is sculpting so we all can enjoy it. Until you share your talent, you don’t understand the impact you have on people. His talent is not something he picked up, but something he was born with,” attests Goss.
For the lanky, friendly, blue eyed Dean, there are discoveries to be made in life, often underscored by life’s experiences.
Today, Dean speaks in a long dialog about his work and the vivacity of his imagination.
He has been serious about his art since March 2007 when he sold some pieces in a dealer’s room at the C.M.Russell Art Auction.
Dean has no formal art training, rather, he likes to think that his art is continually evolving from his understanding the anatomy of his subjects.
He grew up in Great Falls, and learned to fly fish with a bamboo rod given to him by his grandfather, Milo. The family had a cabin on the Smith River, and as a young boy, Dean recalls his grandfather’s stories that drew him in about life and the outdoors. Milo Creek Carving is a tribute to that “wonderful, decent, honest man, who always had time for me,” he says.
Pulling out one of his first fish silhouettes, a flat sided swimmer, Dean brandishes the framework of his early efforts.
He explains that his work is subtractive art. He starts backwards. He makes the components like a puzzle, and then, puts them together.
Dean immerses himself in each original project. If he makes a fish, he first decides on the size, and the shape. Then, he finds a wood that is just right for the characterization. He hand draws the outline of the fish. He cuts the fish out from a big block of dense, strong, exotic wood: Tigerwood, African Mahagony,Koa, Bubinga, Jatoba, Zebrawood, Beruvian Rosewood. He likes to work with the natural beauty of the wood. No painting or fillers are applied.
His tool bar includes: a dremel, knife, band saw, aggressive bits, several sanders, including the Guinevere, an inflatable rubber sander. Indeed, Dean credits his silky smooth surfaces to the Guinevere, a tool invented by Arthur Aveling of King Arthur’s Tools. In return, Mr. Aveling lauds Dean’s exquisite wood carvings in his national advertising.
Aveling describes Dean as a “magnificent artist” who captures the beauty of fish. He is proud to have an artist of Dean’s caliber using their products. Dean’s fish carving,” Brown on the Smith River” sits proudly on Aveling’s desk in Tallahassee, Florida.
A fly fisherman for forty years, Dean draws the viewer into an underwater scene that may include water weeds, insects, and aquatic animals. He adds Montana juniper where appropriate, having collected the twisted wood from eastern Montana.
In his work, he tries to capture that one “moment in time,” capturing the “really big one.”
Kent Klewein of Reel Job Fishing in Georgia, casts numerous nods to Dean’s work. Klewein uses a picture of one of Dean’s carved fish in his blog that touts his guiding business.
Occasionally his clients want a replica mount of their fish, and “Dean is the only guy that does one of a kind pieces out of exotic wood,” said Klewein.
Dean acknowledges that there is a lot of versatility in his art.
This year, 2009, Dean was nominated for the Montana Circle of American Masters. An honor he humbly acknowledges. Because of the distinction, he has been encouraged to teach his wood carving art for the betterment of cultural history.
Ever evolving, Dean refers to his inner voice that says you’ve never reached your pinnacle.
Mention his inspiration, and he always comes back to his family.
“I really do this for Patti Jo and the kids, and I aim to be the best,” he concludes.
Exotic Morocco captures the hearts of travelers
Great Falls Tribune, August 16, 2009
Exotic Morocco captures the hearts of travelers
Earlier this summer, pianist, Su Suits sat in a courtyard in Fez, Morocco, playing a Robert Schumann piece. The impromptu musical moment happened to be at the Museum of Andalusian Music and the director came running out, applauding. His ears were more tuned to the darbouka (drums), the bendir (tambourines), the kamanja, and the ud (lute): the music of northern Africa. The melodies coming from the piano delighted him.
He was just one of the many friendly and hospitable Moroccans that extended a welcoming hand to Su and husband, Thad, on their adventure into ancient Morocco.
The journey to northern Africa was something that Thad had dreamed for a long time. Immersed in the study of the Arabic language, he wanted to go where even a taxi cab ride would be a linguistic opportunity.
Arabic is the native language of Morocco; the sounds of which he recognized as soon as he and Su boated from the south of Spain to Tangiers.
Upon landing, it was a step back in time, “another world later,” observed Su. The country of Morocco, somewhat bigger than the size of California, includes the barren Sahara desert, and still yields to the old ways, as they have since the time of the Romans. Donkeys pull plows or carry wheat in carts that has been harvested by hand. People greeted you, vibrant people, ready to access you. The street scene was a bustling barometer of markets where bartering is expected, an intrinsic part of the culture. Salesmanship is a “fine art,” describes Su,one that immediately invites you to participate. And she did, ignoring the first price of dirhams (their monetary system) the merchant put forward, ultimately making the advantageous purchase in English, and, achieving a surprising compliment.
“You bargain like a Moroccan woman,” declared one of the local vendors.
Immersed in the rich and colorful life of the day to day rhythms, Morocco was the most exotic place the Suits had ever visited.
“It made me nervous,” said Su. “Life happens in the streets, vendors, souks (markets), tanneries, minarets calling to prayer five times, but the day goes on as usual.”
Yet, at the same time, when they ventured out on their own, people were friendly, “excessively friendly,”.
They were sensual and visual.
According to Su, “they touched my heart.”
Moroccans speak Arabic and French, a leftover influence of the 1912 Treaty of Fez which made Morocco a protectorate of France. Although, Morocco gained independence in 1955, France continues to be their primary trade partner. The government is a constitutional monarchy (King Mohammad VI) with a parliament. People still learn French which is more widely spoken then English.
Women have equal rights, “at least on paper,” adds Thad, and they are allowed to work out of their homes.
To the Suits, global influence was apparent in Morocco.
Yet, they are still trying to figure out what this mystical area is about. Moroccans do not like to have their picture taken. They saw shrouded women in burqas, and some in western clothing. Most women wear a hijab to cover their hair, but not their face. Kiosks boasted The New York Times and world- wide news, while preserved meat sat in markets unrefrigerated, not far from piles of spices, and dates. But then you would notice the cell phones and the daily cry of the minarets.
While in Fez, the third largest Moroccan city, a cab driver took them to the gate of Medina, the original old walled city of one million people. Here they were to meet the man of the house where they were staying, Habid. He would walk them through the labyrinth of ancient crowded streets where no autos are allowed.
“Habid, he’s my best friend,” declared the driver.
“A one chance encounter in a thousand,” thought Thad, but, it was true.
Habid met them, and led them to their riad, a traditional Moroccan home where they stayed for five days. Stained glass windows, mosaic floors and old wood, accented the house, called, Dar Bennis, which had been beautifully restored to its original Moroccan architecture.
Even the first day, and each day following, their outings were only in Arabic, often with Habid in the lead. But sometimes, they ventured out on their own, and in doing so they found plenty of friendly folk to ease their path. Interestingly, Thad sought and found some Arabic language instruction from an American teacher who taught at Dartmouth.
There was lots of give and take, but, “I held my own,” said Thad. Even the ticket agent at the train station opened his eyes wide and gave him a “thumbs up” after he was trying to figure out the schedule.
“I had spoken Arabic, and he liked that.”
In Morocco, it is quite common to see henna on women’s hands and feet for weddings, special occasions, or even just for a treat. It is applied for luck as well as joy and beauty. Henna, a native plant, is used to dye the skin in orange and brown intricate patterns that last for two weeks. The pale paisley remnants on Su’s hands revealed the treatment of an artist that came to their Dar one afternoon and applied the modern mystical adornment. Su enjoyed the experience, one that she wouldn’t pass up, as it was part of just celebrating being in Morocco.
Those beautiful hands went right into the food as they both smiled and explained the cuisine of Morocco.
Declaring “one third of the world comes to the table with knives, forks, and spoons; one third takes on chopsticks; and one third (including Moroccans) eat with their hands,” Thad tells it like it was.
They describe evenings of sitting on cushions at low tables, enjoying couscous, vegetables, and meat food served from dome topped tajines (clay pots). Mint tea is the ever popular drink, which one must always take time to partake. It is the hallmark of Moroccan hospitality.
The fresh ingredients for meals come from the lively markets (souks) where nearly everything is sold. Shopkeepers and artisans daily appear to hawk their wares among throngs wending their way through crowded narrow ways.
One of the most unusual souks, is the famous Dabbaghine, a tannery which has been in use for over a thousand years. As Su and Thad approached the tannery, they were given sprigs of mint to sniff to ward off the pungent smell from the processing solution of salt, lime, and pigeon excrement (which contains ammoniac to make the leather soft). The steps in the tanning process take many, many coats of dipping in huge vats which look like giant water color pools. The atmosphere is enhanced by the finished tanned hides hanging out to dry from nearby terraces.
Experiencing the exhilaration of Moroccan traditions and mingling among the daily crowds of jalaba robed masses, the Suits looked around for foreigners. There were not many; and, certainly, very few Americans.
“We didn’t feel like we were in a tourist zone,” said Thad, adding he “never saw a McDonalds.”
But, they felt the soul of Morocco and the last bastion of what it is.
Exotic Morocco captures the hearts of travelers
Earlier this summer, pianist, Su Suits sat in a courtyard in Fez, Morocco, playing a Robert Schumann piece. The impromptu musical moment happened to be at the Museum of Andalusian Music and the director came running out, applauding. His ears were more tuned to the darbouka (drums), the bendir (tambourines), the kamanja, and the ud (lute): the music of northern Africa. The melodies coming from the piano delighted him.
He was just one of the many friendly and hospitable Moroccans that extended a welcoming hand to Su and husband, Thad, on their adventure into ancient Morocco.
The journey to northern Africa was something that Thad had dreamed for a long time. Immersed in the study of the Arabic language, he wanted to go where even a taxi cab ride would be a linguistic opportunity.
Arabic is the native language of Morocco; the sounds of which he recognized as soon as he and Su boated from the south of Spain to Tangiers.
Upon landing, it was a step back in time, “another world later,” observed Su. The country of Morocco, somewhat bigger than the size of California, includes the barren Sahara desert, and still yields to the old ways, as they have since the time of the Romans. Donkeys pull plows or carry wheat in carts that has been harvested by hand. People greeted you, vibrant people, ready to access you. The street scene was a bustling barometer of markets where bartering is expected, an intrinsic part of the culture. Salesmanship is a “fine art,” describes Su,one that immediately invites you to participate. And she did, ignoring the first price of dirhams (their monetary system) the merchant put forward, ultimately making the advantageous purchase in English, and, achieving a surprising compliment.
“You bargain like a Moroccan woman,” declared one of the local vendors.
Immersed in the rich and colorful life of the day to day rhythms, Morocco was the most exotic place the Suits had ever visited.
“It made me nervous,” said Su. “Life happens in the streets, vendors, souks (markets), tanneries, minarets calling to prayer five times, but the day goes on as usual.”
Yet, at the same time, when they ventured out on their own, people were friendly, “excessively friendly,”.
They were sensual and visual.
According to Su, “they touched my heart.”
Moroccans speak Arabic and French, a leftover influence of the 1912 Treaty of Fez which made Morocco a protectorate of France. Although, Morocco gained independence in 1955, France continues to be their primary trade partner. The government is a constitutional monarchy (King Mohammad VI) with a parliament. People still learn French which is more widely spoken then English.
Women have equal rights, “at least on paper,” adds Thad, and they are allowed to work out of their homes.
To the Suits, global influence was apparent in Morocco.
Yet, they are still trying to figure out what this mystical area is about. Moroccans do not like to have their picture taken. They saw shrouded women in burqas, and some in western clothing. Most women wear a hijab to cover their hair, but not their face. Kiosks boasted The New York Times and world- wide news, while preserved meat sat in markets unrefrigerated, not far from piles of spices, and dates. But then you would notice the cell phones and the daily cry of the minarets.
While in Fez, the third largest Moroccan city, a cab driver took them to the gate of Medina, the original old walled city of one million people. Here they were to meet the man of the house where they were staying, Habid. He would walk them through the labyrinth of ancient crowded streets where no autos are allowed.
“Habid, he’s my best friend,” declared the driver.
“A one chance encounter in a thousand,” thought Thad, but, it was true.
Habid met them, and led them to their riad, a traditional Moroccan home where they stayed for five days. Stained glass windows, mosaic floors and old wood, accented the house, called, Dar Bennis, which had been beautifully restored to its original Moroccan architecture.
Even the first day, and each day following, their outings were only in Arabic, often with Habid in the lead. But sometimes, they ventured out on their own, and in doing so they found plenty of friendly folk to ease their path. Interestingly, Thad sought and found some Arabic language instruction from an American teacher who taught at Dartmouth.
There was lots of give and take, but, “I held my own,” said Thad. Even the ticket agent at the train station opened his eyes wide and gave him a “thumbs up” after he was trying to figure out the schedule.
“I had spoken Arabic, and he liked that.”
In Morocco, it is quite common to see henna on women’s hands and feet for weddings, special occasions, or even just for a treat. It is applied for luck as well as joy and beauty. Henna, a native plant, is used to dye the skin in orange and brown intricate patterns that last for two weeks. The pale paisley remnants on Su’s hands revealed the treatment of an artist that came to their Dar one afternoon and applied the modern mystical adornment. Su enjoyed the experience, one that she wouldn’t pass up, as it was part of just celebrating being in Morocco.
Those beautiful hands went right into the food as they both smiled and explained the cuisine of Morocco.
Declaring “one third of the world comes to the table with knives, forks, and spoons; one third takes on chopsticks; and one third (including Moroccans) eat with their hands,” Thad tells it like it was.
They describe evenings of sitting on cushions at low tables, enjoying couscous, vegetables, and meat food served from dome topped tajines (clay pots). Mint tea is the ever popular drink, which one must always take time to partake. It is the hallmark of Moroccan hospitality.
The fresh ingredients for meals come from the lively markets (souks) where nearly everything is sold. Shopkeepers and artisans daily appear to hawk their wares among throngs wending their way through crowded narrow ways.
One of the most unusual souks, is the famous Dabbaghine, a tannery which has been in use for over a thousand years. As Su and Thad approached the tannery, they were given sprigs of mint to sniff to ward off the pungent smell from the processing solution of salt, lime, and pigeon excrement (which contains ammoniac to make the leather soft). The steps in the tanning process take many, many coats of dipping in huge vats which look like giant water color pools. The atmosphere is enhanced by the finished tanned hides hanging out to dry from nearby terraces.
Experiencing the exhilaration of Moroccan traditions and mingling among the daily crowds of jalaba robed masses, the Suits looked around for foreigners. There were not many; and, certainly, very few Americans.
“We didn’t feel like we were in a tourist zone,” said Thad, adding he “never saw a McDonalds.”
But, they felt the soul of Morocco and the last bastion of what it is.
Selstad aces as he ages
Great Falls Tribune Sports, August 27, 2009
Selstad aces as he ages
It’s not unusual for Tom Selstad to shine as an athlete.
He has been a contender for titles throughout his life playing basketball, and football; won many handball matches, and hits the golf course twice a week.
Now, at age 82, he is a “come lately” tennis champ.
Recently, Selstad won the silver medal in the 80-84 Mens Tennis Singles at the Summer National Senior Games held on the Stanford University campus.
Selstad played seven matches (singles and doubles) in five days to reach the singles finals against Dr. Eyup Tanman, of Maryland.
Though he lost in two sets, getting that far in the competition was a high point in his life.
“It was really a thrill, I didn’t think that I would make it that far,” said Selstad, who had to extend his plane and hotel reservation for the final match.
A showcase for senior athletes, the Summer National Senior Games brings together thousands of 50 + men and women. This year, from August 1 – 15, over 10,000 participants, competing in twenty-five events, descended on Palo Alto, outside of San Francisco, for the competition.
To participate, men and women must first qualify at state and regional meets, also known as the Senior Olympics, by taking one of the top three spots in their event or by meeting minimum performance standards.
Selstad qualified a year ago at the state meet in Butte, for the national event.
Truth be known, it was Selstad’s fifth National Senior Games. He has qualified and played in the biennial event since 1997, reaching the quarterfinals twice.
Though the Selstad name is well known in tennis circles, it has been Tom’s son, Scott, and granddaughter, Samantha, who are usually in the spotlight.
Scott has been, and is, a Meadow Lark champion, and holds many state indoor and outdoor titles. Daughter, Samantha, a former local high school standout, played tennis on this year’s MSU Billings women’s team that for the first time ever qualified for the national competition in Division II.
Tom, toted Scott to tennis meets from the time he was eight years old, and even built a clay court for him to practice on.
According to Scott, he would hit with his dad, now and then.
However, Tom didn’t start playing tennis seriously until twenty years ago, at age 62.
When he decided to hit the courts, Scott gave him some advice on how to learn to play the game.
“You’re too old to have lessons, just have fun,” he said.
With that in mind, Tom watched what other people did on the court, and through the years, friends played the game with him. He does admit to a couple of instruction sessions, but doesn’t play with his son.
“Scott’s too good for me,” he laughs.
Tom Selstad graduated from Great Falls High School in 1945 with athletic scholarships to both MSU and UM. He went on to play basketball and football for UM lettering four years in basketball and three years in football. He has owned, and continues to operate, the Selstad Sod Farm, for fifty-five years.
A mild mannered, soft spoken, gentleman, the only big stick he carries is his WEED tennis racquet. He’s a vegetarian, takes no medication, and weighs five pounds less than he did in college.
His secret to longevity and athleticism is his stamina. He usually can outlast his opponent, yet, he admits, “I don’t heal up as fast as I used to.”
The “horrendous part” of his recent victory was some pulled quad muscles early in the competition.
Nevertheless, he just iced up, and continued playing.
Going over that final match where he lost the gold medal, Selstad describes his opponent’s winning drop shot, masterfully done.
“But he didn’t hit hard, and I handled the ball well.”
That defeat won’t stop him from playing in the next National Senior Games in Houston.
“I’ll be 84 then, those old jocks are so tough,” he said, “but, I’ll be back.”
Selstad aces as he ages
It’s not unusual for Tom Selstad to shine as an athlete.
He has been a contender for titles throughout his life playing basketball, and football; won many handball matches, and hits the golf course twice a week.
Now, at age 82, he is a “come lately” tennis champ.
Recently, Selstad won the silver medal in the 80-84 Mens Tennis Singles at the Summer National Senior Games held on the Stanford University campus.
Selstad played seven matches (singles and doubles) in five days to reach the singles finals against Dr. Eyup Tanman, of Maryland.
Though he lost in two sets, getting that far in the competition was a high point in his life.
“It was really a thrill, I didn’t think that I would make it that far,” said Selstad, who had to extend his plane and hotel reservation for the final match.
A showcase for senior athletes, the Summer National Senior Games brings together thousands of 50 + men and women. This year, from August 1 – 15, over 10,000 participants, competing in twenty-five events, descended on Palo Alto, outside of San Francisco, for the competition.
To participate, men and women must first qualify at state and regional meets, also known as the Senior Olympics, by taking one of the top three spots in their event or by meeting minimum performance standards.
Selstad qualified a year ago at the state meet in Butte, for the national event.
Truth be known, it was Selstad’s fifth National Senior Games. He has qualified and played in the biennial event since 1997, reaching the quarterfinals twice.
Though the Selstad name is well known in tennis circles, it has been Tom’s son, Scott, and granddaughter, Samantha, who are usually in the spotlight.
Scott has been, and is, a Meadow Lark champion, and holds many state indoor and outdoor titles. Daughter, Samantha, a former local high school standout, played tennis on this year’s MSU Billings women’s team that for the first time ever qualified for the national competition in Division II.
Tom, toted Scott to tennis meets from the time he was eight years old, and even built a clay court for him to practice on.
According to Scott, he would hit with his dad, now and then.
However, Tom didn’t start playing tennis seriously until twenty years ago, at age 62.
When he decided to hit the courts, Scott gave him some advice on how to learn to play the game.
“You’re too old to have lessons, just have fun,” he said.
With that in mind, Tom watched what other people did on the court, and through the years, friends played the game with him. He does admit to a couple of instruction sessions, but doesn’t play with his son.
“Scott’s too good for me,” he laughs.
Tom Selstad graduated from Great Falls High School in 1945 with athletic scholarships to both MSU and UM. He went on to play basketball and football for UM lettering four years in basketball and three years in football. He has owned, and continues to operate, the Selstad Sod Farm, for fifty-five years.
A mild mannered, soft spoken, gentleman, the only big stick he carries is his WEED tennis racquet. He’s a vegetarian, takes no medication, and weighs five pounds less than he did in college.
His secret to longevity and athleticism is his stamina. He usually can outlast his opponent, yet, he admits, “I don’t heal up as fast as I used to.”
The “horrendous part” of his recent victory was some pulled quad muscles early in the competition.
Nevertheless, he just iced up, and continued playing.
Going over that final match where he lost the gold medal, Selstad describes his opponent’s winning drop shot, masterfully done.
“But he didn’t hit hard, and I handled the ball well.”
That defeat won’t stop him from playing in the next National Senior Games in Houston.
“I’ll be 84 then, those old jocks are so tough,” he said, “but, I’ll be back.”
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