Showing posts with label Harry Levine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harry Levine. Show all posts

Friday, December 21, 2018

I'm on a podcast!!!

This is a quickie post, to share my exciting news.  Back in the early fall, I was interviewed by Cindy Ingram of the Art Class Curator, for her podcast series.  In the whirlwind of my son's September wedding, Thanksgiving, and various other events, time whizzed by and I totally forgot about it.  Well, it turns out the podcast went live about a month ago!  Whoops!  How did I miss that???? 

Anyhow, if you want to hear my squeaky little voice talk about all things art education, here's a link to the podcast.  It's episode # 27, and I hope you'll give it a listen!  We focused quite a bit on art teacher longevity, which, after a public school career of 36 years (and another 6 with my private business) is something I guess I know a little about.  The namesake of this blog, my dragon Lucy (in the sky with diamonds) is mentioned early in our discussion, so above you can see a photo of Lucy and her baby Sparkle on a table in my former art room.  She is not wearing her wings in this photo (they are removable), because, with a 5' wingspan, she takes up a LOT of space.  So her wings were neatly stored on top of a cabinet until she had cause to wear them. 

Late in the episode, you'll hear Cindy ask me about an artwork that was pivotal in my life.  I respond by talking about a drawing done by my late grandfather Harry Levine, who I've blogged about on several occasions, here, here, here, here, and here.  I unfortunately never met my grandfather; he died before I was born.  You can't see a drawing when you are listening to a podcast, so here it is, below.  The drawing currently hangs in my nephew's home.  In the corner of the framed drawing is a photo of my nephew's father, who is my oldest brother, sitting under the drawing as a little boy.  If you listen to the podcast, you'll hear me try to explain why it is important to me.

Weirdly, while we discussed my preference for doing hands-on, tactile art projects with kids, there's so much we didn't discuss.  I didn't talk about toothpaste batik, or building papier-mache masks or cats or whatever, or painting procedures, or any other specifics about my teaching methods or projects.  But I suppose that's all stuff you can find here on the blog, right?

Anyhow, I hope you'll take some time to listen to the podcast, and hopefully get something out of it!

Wednesday, November 1, 2017

Ugly No More - Family Heirloom Restoration Project is Complete

The lamp formerly known as the Ugly Lamp is complete and has a new home on a corner table in our lakeside cabin.  It seems happy there.  Since the last time I blogged about the lamp, I purchased the white shade, and after debating whether to paint the shade, I finally glued beaded trim and polka dot ribbon on the bottom edge, and a narrow ribbon near the top edge.  I'm happy with the result.  Meanwhile, my sweet husband wired the lamp so that it would actually work.  This is it, below, just after we turned it on for the very first time after being wired.  It hasn't been illuminated in decades.

When I first began the restoration process, more than two years ago, the lamp looked like the left-hand pic below.  On the right, you see it with some of the layers of paint removed.  I blogged about the history of this family heirloom, carved by my grandfather, and how it came into my possession, in the blog post you will find by clicking here.  You can also see more photos of the restoration process there.

After working on the lamp, I've decided the lamp was probably a gift from my grandfather to my grandmother when they got married.  The carving isn't as sophisticated as much of his later work, and it has engraved, on the three sides of the base, the following: a Jewish star; a menorah; and an entwined 'H' and 'R', the initials of my grandparents, Harry and Rae.  There is no such personal symbolism on any of his other pieces that I know of.   You can see the entwined initials in the images below, which show the lamp turned off and illuminated. 
 For more information about my grandfather and his wood carving / sculpture, including the story of the missing totem pole, check out the following links on my blog:
 
My grandfather's carvings, part 1
My grandfather's carvings, part 2

Monday, September 25, 2017

The Ugly Lamp - restoring a family heirloom part 2

More than two years ago I acquired a family heirloom known as the Ugly Lamp, and got the go-ahead from my family to repaint it however I desired, since NOBODY wanted the lamp.  I shared pics of it "as is", and told you all about the lamp and why/how I acquired it in a blog post, HERE.  As of today, after some minor touch-ups, the painting of the lamp is complete, and I want to share it with you.  I'm calling the color scheme "demented circus" though the original inspiration was designer McKenzie Childs.

I should explain, the lamp was carved by my woodcarver/furniture maker/sculptor grandfather Harry Levine, who I unfortunately never got to meet. Most of his carving work is much more sophisticated than this, and I'm hypothesizing, because of the intertwined initials and the crudeness of the sculpture, that perhaps he made the work early in his career, as a wedding gift for my grandmother. 
At the time of the original blog post, I had been cleaning the lamp in preparation for repainting.  I spent many hours washing and stripping it, first chemically, and when that became unsuccessful, using a delicate grinding tool to get rid of the old paint.  Finally, when I discovered a layer of what is called 'milk paint', I gave into my frustration and aborted the attempt to strip the paint.  I sprayed it with a coat of primer, took some photos of it, and used colored pencils on the photos to pick out a color scheme.  The pics above are the lamp when it first came into my possession, and after I started removing some of the paint.
I started painting the lamp, but I wasn't satisfied with the colors. I purchased more paint, and changed the colors several times.  Finally I gave up.  Almost two years passed and this August I decided it was time to get back to the project, and approached it with a fresh perspective.  And now I'm sharing with you the finished product!  The lamp is 3-sided, with a different engraving on the base of each side: a menorah (the top photo), my grandparents' intertwined initials (H for Harry, R for Rae; directly above), and on the third side, a Star of David (Jewish star) (pictured below). 
I don't know that my grandfather, Harry Levine, would have liked it, since his work was very traditional, but I think that my family is pleased with my renovation, and I'm pretty satisfied with it!  Here's the top, pictured below, not that it will be visible once it has a shade on it.
Now I've got two more decisions to make: first, I need to choose what to use for a final protective coat.  I'm torn between keeping the satin finish of the paint or possibly adding a hard gloss shine.  The second decision is the shade.  (My husband is going to rewire it while I figure this out.)  I've received suggestions to use a colored shade, such as green or yellow, but I prefer white because of the light quality.  I'm considering possibly painting some simple large spots of color on the white shade, using the same colors, or perhaps mimicking the shapes of the leaves with a line pattern or even a printed pattern.  So I will print a few photos of the base, and get out the colored pencils again, coloring my various options for lampshades.  I'll let you know what I decide and how it turns out!  (I may even turn to you for your opinions, not that I'll listen!)  Then the only other decision will be to figure out where to put the lamp, since it is rather substantial in size.  I may need to buy a table for it....

Monday, May 25, 2015

The Ugly Lamp - restoring a family heirloom, part 1

My grandfather, Harry Levine,was a Jewish Russian-born immigrant.  In his hometown of Vilna (then Russia, now Lithuania), he was trained as a woodcarver/furniture maker.  He came to NYC in his late teens, somewhere around 1912, plus or minus a couple of years.  (I've not yet been able to find him or my grandmother on any ship manifesto.)  In NYC, my grandfather studied at the Educational Arts Alliance, where his woodcarving skills became transformed into the talent of a sculptor.  I'm very proud that the wonderful Brooklyn Museum owns two pieces of his work.  They can be seen on permanent display in the Luce Center for Visible Storage in the museum.  I've written about him several times before on the blog, in particular here and here

Sadly, my grandfather died young, and my brothers and I never met him.  The legacy he left behind includes etchings, watercolors, carved busts, an intricately carved fiddle, and many wonderful pieces of furniture.  We each have pieces. For example, I have a beautiful hutch-cabinet, and a library-size table that I use as my dining room table, with carved lion heads on the ends.  One brother has the violin, another has a bust and an end table, and so on.  And then, there's the piece that nobody wanted, the ugly lamp...
The lamp has been the family joke for years.  We have no idea who spray-painted it gold, but it didn't help make it look better.  When our parents had both passed away, and we sorted out the remnants of their home, it was the one thing that nobody claimed.  One brother finally agreed to take it, and the lamp has been stored in his basement collecting dust for many years now. 

He and his wife recently bought a retirement home in Cape Cod, and have been cleaning out their former home and getting rid of stuff.  Periodically, a package will arrive in the mail.  Recently, the package included a lovely needlepoint that my mom had made.  It was rolled up, smelled like wood smoke, and was dirty.  I had it dry-cleaned, matted, and framed with glass, and this weekend we hung it on the wall at our Loon Lake cottage.  I remember my mom making this, and I know she'd be glad to know I have it safely now. 
Also in the package was... yup, you guessed it; the ugly lamp.  I agreed to take the lamp with the agreement that nobody would get upset with me for giving it some sort of funky renovation.  My plan is to make it whimsical and multicolored, possibly with colors like turquoise, yellow, and magenta, though that is just my current idea; I could change my mind tomorrow.  But I will not change what my grandfather carved.  In the base of the lamp there are three panels with engraved insignia.  The first panel has an intertwined H and an R, my grandmother Rae and grandfather Harry's first initials.
 The other panels have a Star of David (often called a Jewish Star) and a menorah.  Compared to my grandfather's usual intricate, detailed, sculptural carving, these crude engravings are rather odd.
The lamp, when I received it, was filthy from years of living in storage.    So I figured I'd start by scrubbing it off with some soapy water and a stiff brush.  And suddenly, I discovered there was other paint under the gold. 
 The more I scrubbed, and rinsed, the more of the gold paint came off, and the more red and black I discovered.  I think the red was painted over the black, though I'm not sure.
And then, as I continued scrubbing, the red and black paint (and some white that I presume is a primer) all started to come off too, exposing the bare wood underneath. 
 When I finally stopped scrubbing and rinsing today, this is how the lamp looked. 
 The paint almost completely came off the top of the  lamp, but not around the curves. 
Now that it's drying out, I'm trying to decide how to next proceed.  Can I just spray a coat of primer on the whole thing once it is dry?  Or now that so much paint  has come off, do I have to get off every stitch of the paint, that I wasn't originally planning to remove at all?  (I absolutely HATE doing paint removal.)  I have no idea what kind of paint is on the lamp.  If you, my readers, have done any  similar renovation/restoration projects, I'd love your advice on techniques and materials.  In the meantime, this is how the lamp looks as it is drying out. I'll be posting 'part 2' when the project is complete!

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Thoughts on Cursive Writing; brain development, genealogy, and more

 So, this is a different sort of post, one that I have been seriously thinking about for the better part of a year or two.  It's one that I write with deep introspection and more than a fair share of worry, that has meaning to me, and to society in general, on so many levels.  I hope you'll take the time to read on. 

I actually first started seriously thinking about the demise of cursive writing when my son Ben, now 24, was in middle school.  He, like so many of us, learned cursive writing beginning in the 3rd grade.  That used to be common practice, at least where I have resided.  By 4th grade, all schoolwork handed in was required to be written in cursive. 

But by the time Ben was in middle school I noticed he was back to using printed letters for most of his handwritten schoolwork, and when I asked, he said cursive wasn't required; actually it wasn't ever even mentioned any more.  By high school, I never saw him use cursive for anything.  But his printing was pretty illegible.  You see, my son was (still is) a quick thinker, and my feeling was that with cursive writing, the flow and connectedness would more appropriately match the flow of thought from his brain.  But I'm not a scientist or an expert on the brain.

My classroom was on the same hallway as grades 4-6 classrooms in the school building where I spent my last dozen or so years teaching.  In the early years in the building, student papers on display in the hallway (stories, essays, etc) were always in cursive, but by the time of my retirement this past June, I never saw any cursive work in the hall at all, with the exception of a few kids: these were kids who were new to our school districts; transfers from other school districts, places far away.  If you asked the teachers, they would say that they used to spend classroom time practicing cursive, but didn't any more.  They had too much other stuff to do.  And now, with the adoption of the Common Core, keyboarding is critical but it appears cursive writing has gone out the window.

So I started wondering about how the ramifications of this loss.  A quick internet search made me realize that I was not the only person with concerns about the demise of cursive writing.  Here's a handful of articles that I found, with information that backs up my own personal hypotheses.  Pick a couple and take the time to read.  I truly believe that cursive writing is one of those rare activities that forces our brain hemispheres to work in collaboration with each other, and that the loss of this skill is more than just an 'oh well' concern.  What we do about it; I don't know.

Brain Development Could Suffer as Cursive Writing Fades
Cursive Writing at Risk in US Schools
Left and Right Brain Hemispheres
What Learning Cursive Does for Your Brain
Top Ten Reasons to Learn Cursive
Learning Cursive Boosts Brain Development

 Then, of course, besides the impact on the brain, is the fact that people who don't learn to write cursive, also don't know how to read it!  Imagine looking through wonderful old historical documents, and not knowing what they say!  I have letters written to me by my beloved (deceased) father during my college years, and letters from friends and family that I received at Girl Scout camp, recipes in my (deceased) mom's handwriting, letters and love notes from boyfriends, and so much more handwritten documentation that is really precious to me.  I can't imagine not being able to read them, and I'm glad they were not all just emails that disappeared during a computer crash or were deleted during a file cleaning.

My brother and I have off and on over recent years been involved in some genealogical research, in particular relating to my sculptor/artist grandfather Harry Levine, who I told you about here and and here and  here back in 2011, as we searched for a missing totem pole he had carved in Croton-on-Hudson in NY state.  (An aside here; just two days ago my brother called me in excitement; someone thought they had finally found the totem pole, in Tarrytown NY.  I quickly emailed a photo of it, but unfortunately it was yet again a dead end.  So the search goes on.) My husband also has done extensive genealogical research on his own family.  Imagine not being able to read these documents belonging to my grandfather.


 
Now I don't really expect you to be able to read the documents below, even if you still can read cursive, because, of course, they are not in English.  But still, cursive writing is a key to being able to translate this passport (at least that's what we think it is) below, which was for my grandmother, her mother, and two siblings when they were en route to (eventually), we believe, the US having left their home in Vilna (then, Russia).
The postcards below are just a few from a large collection given to me by Grandma when I was young, written in a mix of Russian and Yiddish, and it has been a challenge finding anyone to translate them, but they represent important keys to my family history.
 
 
 
 
 
So my question is this: what do we do now?  How can we prevent cursive writing from becoming a lost art?  How can visual art educators play a part?  I think we have a unique comprehension of the vital differences between holding a paintbrush or pen or pencil in our hand, and plunking away on a keyboard or clicking on a screen.  I want to be proactive but don't have a clue as to how I can make a difference.  I'd love your thoughts.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

My family of sculptors, a vacation story


Let me explain the post title and the 2 sculptures above, starting with the one on the left...


You've read about my grandfather Harry Levine in prior posts here and here and here. Well, for the first time in my lifetime, there's a mini-exhibition offering a sampling of his artwork, at the public library in Wilton, New Hampshire. The bust on display, by Grandpa (pictured above and below) is of my dad, as a young man. It normally resides in the home of my my nephew.

Also above is a little sampling of grandpa's artwork on display, including photos of a violin (or fiddle) he carved, which resides with my other big brother, the most musical of we three siblings.


The display was organized and set up by my big brother Hal, who and most of the work on display came from his home. That's Hal by the library with my son Ben. Thanks, Hal, for setting up the show and also for showing us around your lovely library.

The display was the 2nd link in an artsy few days, the first being the Chihuly exhibit in Boston, and the 3rd being today's beach activity that created the other sculpture pictured at the top of the post and below.


And that's Ben - again - today on Goose Rocks Beach, in Cape Porpoise, near Kennebunkport, Maine. What does a family that consists of an art teacher, an architect, and a slightly offbeat and creative recent college graduate do when on vacation at the ocean? Why, we play in the sand, of course!!

The big debate was what to build. In the past we've done a huge Buddha-like cat, an alligator, a lizard, a dragon, a frog, and a mermaid, so those ideas were out. How about perhaps a unicorn, or giant spider? Not too practical with sand. A turtle? Nah. A castle? Nope. We considered a hippo. But it's already a big animal. How about a giant hamburger? Boring. So an evil demented octopus was the compromise. Two little kids came along and named him "Crazy Hary the Octopus" and wrote his name for us around his moat, in the sand. We added a few silly props found on the beach, took a swim in the chilly but refreshing Atlantic, read a few pages, and had a lovely day.