Wood carvers among the veggies

At Saturday's Farmer's Market, their stands sat cheek by jowl, two wood carvers. One dealt in crosses, the other in kitchens. Or at least kitchen implements.

Apparently there is a market in crosses, supported by collectors; I've seen several walls displaying a number of crosses from different sects and periods of history. Especially handsome: the tall staff topped by the small cross.

Chatted with the other carver who allows that he's always worked in wood. His kitchen tools are all made from local wood -- Arizona walnut, oak, juniper. Pretty enough that one would hate to get one of those scrapers above dirty.

He also makes classic wooden spoons, solid cutting boards, even handsome pizza peels. And he's set for the season when it coms to tomatoes; he was arranging a trade with another exhibitor when I showed up, tomatoes for $35 cutting board. That's sure a good supply -- I'm reminded of my boss back in Chicago who grew her own tomatoes. Her bloody mary's were the best I've ever tasted.

Rachel Carson in chautauqua

"Would you like to come to a chautauqua at the Nature Center?" The question came from a good neighbor. My answer: "Of course. Uh, just what is a chautuaqua?" In this case, it was a presentation not about Rachel Carson but rather a presentation by a woman who became Rachel Carson for the evening.

Said the Nature Center website, "a few thousand words from Rachel Carson and the world took a new direction." Carson challenged the experts, questioned government, technology and progress itself. "Silent Spring has been recognized throughout the world as one of those rare books that change the course of history . . . by altering the direction of man's thinking." The impetus for the book, however, was Carson's love of life itself, and it is this love that Fiona Reid interpret[s] as the image of Rachel Carson.

Nearly 10 years ago, Reid, education director of the Center, had made a study of Carson as her college senior project and, over the years, had become ever more intimate with her subject, as a person and as a scientist.

The performer passed around a container of sea sand with shells to help move the audience into her world on the coast of Maine and of The Sea Around Us. As part of the program, the audience asked questions of Reid in her role as Carson, followed by questions about her subject.

Always curious, I found myself consulting with The Google about chautauquas, which were a rather remarkable adult education movement in rural America in the late 19th and early 20th century, before movies, radio, and television brought the same glitz and entertainment to the boonies that the cities enjoyed. Orators, performers, and educators traveled a national Chautauqua circuit of more than 12,000 sites bringing lectures, performances, concerts, classes, and exhibitions to thousands of people in small towns and cities. Theodore Roosevelt called Chautauquas, "the most American thing in America." So notes the website for the Colorado Chautauqua, one of the three remaining permanent chautauqua sites. The most famous is The Chautauqua Institution, on Lake Chautauqua in New York, which remains a fascinating blend of summer camp for grown-ups with all manner of cultural/educational programs. And, of course, the source of this strange name.

Big brass fix

Those cases lined up over at the Square could only mean one thing -- tubas! A chance for a great big brass fix. At 4 o'clock, the schedule said.

Yesterday's event? A benefit for the Prescott High School marching band, which needs the money for a trip to a London competition come January. Below, the requisite Tshirt, which was also the costume of the day for loads of kids from the high school.

Promptly at 4 p.m., there they were, tubas galore, climbing up to the stand in front of Bucky O'Neill. Couldn't help myself; I just kept taking pictures of those big, beautiful oom-pah instruments.

Two tubas...

three tubas...

five... and (below) I do believe that the little fellow at the end also is tooting a tuba, making for a total of six. I wonder: is there a minimum age or size requirement before a kid dare take up this huge horn?

Big bass drums, too.

Of course, there were also other brass instruments. Maybe even a fife or glockenspiel. That's what a marching band is all about. Not a single guitar -- for a change. Nor keyboard. I recall when pop music was all about brass and reeds. Remember, Bennie Goodman & Artie Shaw (clarinet) ... Louis Armstrong (trumpet) .. Tommy Dorsey (trombone). Admittedly, I can't recall any tuba players on yesterday's pop scene.

OK, I don't have a word for the banner players. But they were out in force. First cousins to drum majorettes, I guess, but without the gymnastics.

There were even Union Jacks fluttering on the Sunday afternoon breezes. A reminder of the reason for all that music on the Square.

Linkage: Let's start off with a new Prescott blogger that Tombo brought to my attention -- Sam-in-AZ, who recently moved here as a Vista volunteer. He's published several posts with a newbie's eye view of our fair town; kinda fun seeing what catches the attention of a newcomer. Plus: his background color is R.E.D. Oddball Observations sent me over to a lovely video of cats getting high on catnip. Lastly, Pop Mechanics introduces the dark side of sunflowers.

Tsunami 2009

Saturday was this year's Tsunami on the Square. If I were asked to describe what a Tsunami on the Square is, the best I could come up with would be a Fringe Festival, but in one day on one stage. A parade starts the affair, followed by non-stop acts all afternoon and well into the night. All part circus, part serious. However, no lions or elephants.

The crowds are gathered; the Courthouse steps are choice seating.

The blue lady chanted of "Water!"

Which brought these lights up.

One of the acts...

... and another. while behind the stage (below), another pair of performers practice.

I presume we have an octopus lady at right, all wired for colored lights. As for the instruments below, the red tuba is outstanding. Sorry I wasn't there to hear the concerto for red tuba, concertina, glockenspiel and gong.

Meanwhile, in the kiddie corner, the moppets are learning to use musical-ish noise makers.

Tsunami also includes a circus school for the young ones. Likely this stilted drummer is one of the recent grads.

The Seussmobile circled the Square on a regular route.

So is it any wonder that when I returned home, it was to collapse for a well deserved nap?

Linkage: The obvious place to start is with Rich's first post on Tsunami, which includes a stream of 22 pictures from the parade. Next, a Flickr link to pictures of the Yavapai County indigent graveyard; I didn't know there was such a place! The True West blog has a comment on the financial problems of the Sharlot Hall Museum. And, if yesterday's post interested you in Prescott's cool loos, here (and here) are a couple more. Addenda: boonie takes his digicamera apart & doesn't mention whether or not he reassembled Humpty Dumpty.

The Folk Arts Fair

I hadn't been to the annual Folk Arts Fair at the Sharlot Hall Museum for a good three years and this time I barely made it by the skin of my teeth, having spent the early part of the day at the Square photographing the antiquery. This is the first year that the public has been charged for attendance -- and the change definitely cut into the size of audience. Too bad.

As in past years, the focus was hands-on, especially for youngsters. They learned how to make a dolls from corn husks. (Editorial: I think it is a splendid idea for children to learn that there wasn't always a great cornucopia of goodies across the Pacific Ocean ready to turn every visit to WalMart into Christmas. And that there was a time when people, even little ones, had to do for themselves. End of editorial.)

They panned for gold...

...tried their hands at pottery, Indian-style, at the archeology society booth...

...dipped candles (above) and were shown how to make decorative items out of tin (below).

There was even a costume event for the kids. I'm old enough to remember baby bonnets but nothing as huge as what this little girl is wearing. I'm sure she wouldn't be smiling if she had to wear that headgear every day to go out in the sun.

The nurse with the tools of her trade reminded me of how thankful I am to be living in an age in which antibiotics have been discovered. To give just one item worthy of thanks. Another: the insistence on hand-washing.

The chap at right admires old tools, as you can plainly see. He told me he prefers to find a somewhat rusty tool cheap that he can polish and bring up to par. His contribution to the education of modern youngsters: the use of the mitre box to cut wood cleanly on a slant (below).

Wood carvers were present at the museum grounds, as were dyers who use natural dye-stuffs (below). I arrived to late to see the sheep being sheared.

Here, a display of ladies' finery and, below, Sunday-best linens. Note use of indoor clothes drying racks to hang the linens.

Reenactors with stands included The Prescott Regulators (above) and the Arizona Rangers (below). I think I also saw the Shady Ladies elsewhere under another shady tree.

OK, now it's time for the pitch. Two days after the disappointing turn-out, the Courier headline announced that the governor wants to cut the already reduced subsidy for the Sharlot Hall Museum. To ZERO. Gradually, of course, so that the frog doesn't realize he's being boiled. A 20% cut in funding each year for the next five years. Look, guys, the museum is already running on a skeleton staff plus volunteers. Certainly everyone who lives in or near Prescott or who visits on a regular basis should shell out for a membership. If you know of a foundation looking for worthy causes, look no further. If you're a letter writer, how about one to your state legislator or your congressman. While you're about it, ask The One for a few of those stimulus dollars floating around the Washington. Do whatever you can do -- this wonderful museum at the heart of Prescott needs all the help it can get.