Books on a Bronze Bench?

Louisville, Part III: Charles P. Farnsley

It's always curious for me to find books carved or cast into some artistic object. Curious, because I presume there is some reason why the artist or sculptor created the book. Such is the case with the statue of a former mayor of Louisville, the late Charles P. Farnsley (1907-1990), who can be seen cross-legged, arm outstretched, and enjoying the street view in downtown Louisville. The sculpture is by Dawn D. Yates on West Main Street, near both the Louisville Slugger Museum and the International History Museum. There may be several reasons why a book appears in bronze next to Mr. Farnsley, and not simply because a book is a decorative object that may be here to keep the old mayor company.

According to the website KET.org, under the title "Louisville Life," Farnsley was best known for his contribution to the arts in Louisville. The "Fund for the Arts" was a Farnsley initiative to consolidate and unite arts groups in the region, in order to promote sustainability in the arts through fundraising. It is, according to this site, one of the oldest groups of its kind in the country, and brought Farnsley national attention for his insight. But perhaps the clearest reason for there being a book next to Mr. Farnsley is that he promoted the expansion of the Louisville Free Public Library. His tenure as mayor lasted from 1948-1953, but his impact was so great, according to many in the city, that the Louisville Historical League notes his time in office as one of the top historical events in Louisville history in the 20th century.

So, whatever the reason a book sits calmly next to old Mr. Farnsley, we can appreciate the bronze book-object for it revelatory powers of attraction. But we can also appreciate, even more, the role that this man played in promoting the arts and, of course, our library profession.

The Louisville Presbytery and its Bookstore and Libraries

Books and the PC(USA) Headquarters

One might say that the Calvinistic tradition is known for its books, considering its founding theological dignitary's most famous volumes, The Institutes of the Christian Religion, are massive books in size and content. Yet such can be said of other so-called Reformers, like Luther, whose own output fills any library reference collection or pastor's office wall. During my trip to Louisville last week, I managed to find the headquarters of the PC(USA). It was a fine old structure, re-designed and built not long ago from the shells of two old downtown Louisville factories. If I recall correctly from my tour around the complex, the factories were owned by someone on the board of trustees or an executive council, and were sold to the Prebyterian Church (USA) for $1.















The first image above is from the bookshop located on the first floor and associated with Westminster John Knox (WJK) Press, the main publishing house of the denomination. The bookshop, which holds mostly (or only?) imprints of the publisher, opens at 9AM usually. I had gotten there just a bit early...maybe around 8:20AM, and someone was already available to give personal tours of the buildings. The very friendly woman behind the entry desk guided me in the right direction and to the tour leader, who worked on the upper floors. And both were gracious hosts. I was guided through the many floors of the headquarters, the top floor being the 6th if I remember correctly. On one of the higher floors, we found the library and an exhibit of the Presbyterian Historical Society, which is not located in Louisville, but in the Philadelphia area. If anyone is interested, here is their website: http://www.history.pcusa.org/















The library of the PC(USA) headquarters, though not impressive, was cute, snug, and tucked away for the quiet researcher. Morning sunbeams threw themselves into the L-shaped chamber, filled mostly with proceedings of meetings and other run-of-the-mill Reformed tradition tomes. At first glance, the library appeared to be a simple room, as we can see in this picture. And it was a simple room with a few inlaid shelves. But it also had a side-arm hallway, which ended with a built-in desk with some "library-ish" amenities. The walls in the hallway had built-in shelves as well. It was a nice use of space, which might have otherwise been wasted on, say, a broom closet. (Not that broom closets aren't important too!) But from the image below, you can see how the space was configured to accommodate the "expanded" library space.















Now this "main library" was more of a reading room and research space. The most pleasant surprise was how each department of the PC(USA) headquarters had its own distinct library collection, depending on what their brand of outreach or advocacy was, for example. In one division, we see the "Women's Advocacy Library" below, which was an outstanding and extensive collection.





























One of the most beautiful portions of the PC(USA) headquarters may be found in the chapel, located on one of the upper floors. It has a fine view of the Ohio River outside its main window. Below, a design of cut colored glass, each of which rotates, allows for light to be reflected on the ceiling.





























Below, we see the finely carved doors of the sanctuary, hand-crafted somewhere in the west or Midwest, according to the guide. Notice the image of the book carved in the door.












































Above is the atrium, the space between the two former factories, converted into the headquarters. Below is a display case from the bookstore.





























Finally, we have the entryway, complete with winged Louisville horse. Many of these horses could be spotted around the city. This one was exceptionally colorful. One other item of interest may be seen under the wing to the left. As I entered the PC(USA) headquarters, a Korean man, whom I think was a minister, was protesting. I approached him and looked at his sign. Then he handed me a 5 page protest letter, signed "Rev. Kyung Suh Kim and Korean Hope Christian Church...Irvine, CA." The protest letter, which I read later, is a bit hard to understand, but basically claims that the Korean Hope Christian Church, founded in 1971 as an immigrant church had been suffering some financial and congregational set-backs, which finally resulted in the PC(USA) confiscating their church's property. Apparently, the Korean Church had various relations with the PC(USA) over the years, which were meant to bolster the church and its credibility as a denominational entity; and part of this included land that the PC(USA) gave to the Korean Church. But a stipulation was made in the by-laws of this gift that the PC(USA) could retract its gift under certain conditions. When I asked the tour guide about it, she mentioned that the Korean Church was situated on land owned by the PC(USA). Whatever the story, it is still unclear. The PC(USA) has had an extensive history with Korean and Korean-American Churches, but also complex relationships. McCormick Seminary in Chicago, for example, a PC(USA)-in-name institution, used to have a Korean faculty member, but this professor is no longer a member of the faculty. There is still a significant Korean student population, which contributes tremendously to the building of the seminary community, yet a community in need of Korean-oriented leadership. Despite the complexities found in this denomination, it still appears to be forging ahead and surviving in very positive ways. It was good to finally get a chance and visit the HQs, since many of my Presbyterian colleagues speak of Louisville as the Mecca of the church. Well, maybe not that strongly. Perhaps a little more intercultural discussion and repair might lead to a consideration for the future...and make Louisville the "Soeul of the Church." We'll wait and see.















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The Bible, the Preacher, and the Fiddler on a Louisville Street Corner

Preaching the Word on Foot and Knee

Just returning from my week-long trip to Louisville, Kentucky, I wanted to share with you all a little taste of my first hours on the ground in this fine bourbon state. After taking the airport bus into downtown, I walked along Liberty Street toward my hotel. At the intersection of Liberty and 4th, I encountered a street preacher, shouting passionately the word of God at an unspecified rush-hour crowd. I snapped a few photos and then discovered a street fiddler just a few feet behind the preacher. The fiddler asked me to photograph or film him, so I did. But I also managed to capture a few bites of the street preacher's biblical evocations. I chatted for a few moments with the street fiddler and dropped a few dollars in his fiddle case. Then I strolled up next to the street preacher, tugging my bags like the weary traveller I was.

I was curious and wanted to know something about this public preacher. Who was he? Why was he standing at this corner preaching... shouting out to the world in stentorian tones? How long had he been doing it? It was still quite hot outside, and I had all of my luggage. But I saddled up next to the preacher and waited for a pause in his shouts. Other people simply gawked from other corners, or passing him by, giving him curious looks. Finally, as I stood there, inching closer, he gave me a quick, cautious look while he continued with his incantations. Then I inserted a question between his rapid fire pronouncements: "hey, brother--how long have you been doing this?" He paused and turned to me, out of breath, and sweating crystalline pearls of perspiration down down his face. I'd imagined he'd say "for a couple hours," but he returned with "for a few years!" "What's your name?" I asked. "Greg," he said. "Anthony," I returned, "good to meet you," I added. "You too." I wanted to ask him more, to learn why someone went out and stood on a corner and shouted this word of God. But I was hot and holding cumbersome luggage. And I needed to meet some folks from my conference shortly. I decided to head on and wish the young man well. "Keep up the good work...," I started. We shook hands and a "God Bless" hung in the air like a child's lost balloon. Within no time I was off around another corner, the gawkers now at a bus stop behind me; and then I was at the hotel lobby. After settling in, I thought of returning to that street corner, and inviting the young man out for a drink or sandwich to talk. But when I returned a little later, he was gone. The curiosity of such events or people as the street-corner preacher are treated simply as that: curiosities, oddities, people on the margins, who belong to themselves alone, because they somehow jar the boundaries and comfort zones we are familiar with. Why shouldn't these be "normal" people, after all? When the young man "broke" from his preaching mold, he seemed as normal as anyone I'd met before, in college, or grad school, or at a national conference of theological librarians...perhaps even "more normal!"

My impulse to acknowledge this young man seemed to come from the yaps and stares he was getting from bystanders; and I think he appreciated it. I know that I'm glad to have stopped and exchanged a few words. I did not fulfill his goal, perhaps, of succumbing to some "word of God" on the street. But the brief exchange of a smile, a handshake, and a momentary human interaction without scorn, without disdain, and without mockery may have been "word of God" enough... and an unintended result of preaching on a street corner in Louisville, Kentucky.

A Print Shop Remnant?

A Prelude to Louisville

Last August, I drove out to Maywood, IL, a suburb of Chicago, just west of the city and right near Oak Park. It had once been a quiet little town, embraced by the prairies of the midwest, but now lies almost supine along the expressway, engulfed by the outward urban sprawl of the ever expanding (or is it convulsing?) city-scape. The reason I drove to Maywood was to check out the former location of the Chicago Lutheran Theological Seminary, which no longer exists, save its archival remnants in the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago (LSTC), where I work. The plot of land where the seminary was once located is now an empty field, its former buildings torn down. A dilapidated elementary school sits on one corner of the plot and another building on an adjacent corner. It was a rainy day last August, so I didn't get out of my car. And soon, I drove back toward the city. On my way home, I drove through a main stretch of Maywood, and stopped at a light, when I noticed something curious: a small shop, run-down, boarded up, with a beautiful little facade of a printing press embossed in concrete crowing the one-story building! I stopped and took a photo, because it was so interesting to me. And I figured that in some not too distant future, this little structure would fall into disrepair and destruction. I'd thought of this photo over the past year, and again yesterday, as I drove by the Michael Reese Hospital in the south loop of Chicago, as it stood naked against the wrecking balls, and I once again pulled out my camera. I will write about the Michael Reese legacy in a forthcoming blog, but for now, I offer this less famous example of architectural eye-candy, which surely has its own (now almost certainly lost) history...a print shop in old Maywood?

So here is my tribute to the ever-fading past...of old buildings, facades, histories, and stories, which may never be told, as I push off to good ol' Louisville, Kentucky soon. I'll be sure to keep my eyes and camera trained on the bookish and historical gems of Louisville. See you soon!

New 'Cello Book

Greetings from the Singing 'Cello

I'm sure it may be the case that many book lovers are also music lovers. And by music lovers, I mean folks who still yearn for the days of table-top records or CDs even. (Surely, this crowd is too young to have anyone pining for the days of wax cylinders!) Well, here we have the best of both worlds: a book of music! Released this week for public consumption and performance, 200 Pieces for Acappella 'Cello, compiled and arranged by Sona Hairabedian, is a fine addition for the 'cellist on the go. Now, the disclaimer is that Sona is an old friend of mine from two decades ago, when we ran in the chamber music circles of our old friend and mentor, Dr. Herman Ash (1909-2006), whom I wrote about on this blog last August on the occasion of the centenary of his birth (for those interested go to the following blog link below):

http://onbooksandbiblios.blogspot.com/2009/08/one-hundred-years-of-plenitude-dr.html

Some months ago, Sona asked me to contribute a new solo 'cello piece to this fine publication, to which I agreed. I wasn't sure what to write, but in the end I drew up a short work, which I gave the playful title "Jumping Noon," which is a jumpingly spry piece. I was happy to see that as I was the last piece in the book (#200, in fact), my neighbor on the page before me was a young guy named "Beethoven," for which #199 is an old drinking song called "Ode to Joy." Ever hear of it? After you play an Ode, you can "Jump Noon" on the next page. You can see parts of the new book on Amazon, where it is now for sale for ($42.50)--for those interested, my cut is less than 1/200th%. But obviously, I'm not in this for the money! Here's a link to the Amazon page:

http://www.amazon.com/Pieces-Acappella-Cello-Sona-Hairabedian/dp/B003RBGTFO/ref=cm_cmu_pg__header

Now on another 'cello-y note, for those who haven't already guessed, my side-vocation is a composer of "classical" music. Since January of this year, when I discovered a new open-source notation software, I've been able to speed up my compositional production several hundred fold--and that's not an exaggeration! The software is incredibly easy to use and prints publisher quality script very easily. This week also marks the completion of my Sonata for 'Cello and Piano, which I started work on this February and worked on for two months, then resumed briefly in May for about a week. I completed the last two pages on Thursday. In all, the manuscript (or typescript) comes to 45 pages; the 'cello portion (seen above to the left) comes to 12 pages. The work is in three movements, Moderato, Adagio, and Scherzo--con moto, unless I decide to change them!

Near the end of the final movement, you can see the physical workout for the players, especially the 'cellist, who is forced not only to play in 5-flats, but a steeple-chase of double-stop triplets "con moto." Sorry folks, that's just how I hear it!

My history of writing for 'cello goes back nearly twenty years, when I first wrote a short Suite for Solo 'Cello for Mrs. Eleanor Diemer, a local luminary in the 'cello world of the Hudson Valley in the 1980s and earlier. Around her 90th birthday or so, I had Sona play the piece for the ailing older 'cellist, in a nursing home where she was living. A few years later, also in the early 1990s, when I went to college at St. Lawrence University, I composed my Suite #2 for Solo 'Cello, this time for Elsa Hilger, the renowned 'cellist with the Philadelphia Orchestra, and first female to play with a major symphony orchestra. The occasion for the Suite #2 for Ms. Hilger, was also her 90th birthday, this time performed by North Country 'cellist, Beth Robinson (incidentally, the person who encouraged me to enter a composition competition in Potsdam, NY, which resulted in my writing the narrative opera Silas in 1995). My third Suite for Solo 'Cello was written around 1997 for Luis Garcia-Renart, a 'cellist who studied with Pablo Casals. The work was much more complex and difficult than the earlier suites. He gave me advice on double stop construction, a point that I am still indebted to him on, and a point that I still struggle with, admittedly! Most recently, it is this work, the Sonata for 'Cello and Piano, as well as a Concerto for 'Cello and Orchestra, which I began also earlier this year, which have been the focus of my musical attentions. For now though, everyone out there, enjoy the music of the morning...of the birds and all that good stuff. You can listen to the rest in due time.

The Incredible Shrinking Library!

Beginnings of the New JKM Library

"Ex nihilo biblioteca fit!" This should be our new motto: "From nothing comes a library!" In today's images, you will see the beginning stages of a renovation project, which will temporarily reduce the usable space of the JKM Library--the theological library of the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago and McCormick Theological Seminary. Let us just say that the confluent universe that created the ponzi of Bernie Madoff, the collapse of Lehman Brothers and Bear Stearns, and the BP Oil Spill, among other things, was the universe that has forced the enterprise of the JKM Library and its step-parents to go into redux mode, and move its operations to a highly condensed space. The move, taking place this coming August, will save a vast number of resources, while making the library more intimate and interactive with the seminary's departments.

The library presently resides in the west wing of the LSTC building, and occupies all 3-floors of that wing. The new library, which is part of a "modernization" project, will take up its functioning in the east wing of the LSTC building, on the north half of the 3rd floor, effectively reducing the operating portion of the library by 80-83.4% (if this calculation is correct: 3 full floors down to just over 1/2 of one floor of functionality). But this is not permanent. The move will both save money and afford us the opportunity to actually renovate the full library space in the west wing. The present move will keep us in this space for ~3 years. In keeping with the tradition of LSTC, some have called it JKMINEX (JKM in Exile), as with the term "SEMINEX" (or, Seminary in Exile), which was a mid-1970s break with Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, where one faction of that seminary ended up being blended into LSTC.

But this is not so much an exile, because we are neither breaking with our seminary, nor our community, but will likely be serving them more efficiently and closely, especially since our work will be more interwoven with our Language Resource and Writing Center (LRWC). The new JKM library will now be located right next to the LRWC and our services will be much more collaborative. There is a great amount of foot-traffic in the LRWC and many more student activities there, which often focus on international affairs, including the wonderfully crafted "Global Conversations" series, designed and conducted by the LRWC's director, Rob Worley. This series focuses on a broad range of global issues, which are relevant to the lives of many of the international students, but also to other students, who participate in ministry, social action, and vocational development, among other areas of interest.

In some of these photos, it may look like wholesale destruction, but the forthcoming construction, paint-jobs, and re-modeling of individual spaces should make it all look a lot better. The first photo in this essay shows the now de-constructed "Smart Classroom," which shared a common wall with another "no-so-smart" classroom. The so-called Smart Classrooms were to be the future of technology in a past generation, and served as a multi-purpose media center of sorts. And though it is sad to see it go, the next generation of technology and pedagogy has moved into the realm of mobility and mobile technologies. So, with the dismantling of this space, the question of re-conceiving of pedagogical space and techniques becomes all the more important. "Where do we put chairs, tables, and desks?" or "What color should the north and south walls be painted?" These are not just valid questions, but important ones. Because studying and learning are influenced by spaces and color schemes, just as much as sound and time of day. (Above is a photo of a cross made out of two rulers, then "painted" with markers--it had stood over the white-board in the old classroom).

More from the construction space, above and below. The former "Smart" table, which served as the focal point of that learning space, will soon be gone. These two former rooms, now one, will become the reference room (or "center"). It is the reference collection and serials ONLY, which will be moved to this new space...

Now lest we fear that reference books will not suffice..., fear not! Because the fact is that the library is technically NOT CLOSING! The wing that houses the some 400,000+ books, which most of you like to peruse and occasionally borrow, will still be open, but for a far less limited time period: something like 6 hours a week for entry and borrowing. The rest of the week, the library staff will monitor online requests for books through its online systems (OPAC) and retrieve books for patrons. Now the little detail that most of you might not know is that, as we are moving for a renovation and cost savings, the wing holding those 400,000+ books will be neither lit nor heated/cooled. This means that those of us library explorers (on staff) will be most likely searching in a dark library (this sounds like a book of some sort!)... "Adventures in a Dark Library!" As a result, our staff has been actively searching for the best head-lamp equipment (see image below). God forbid we misread a book spine and pick up the wrong book for a patron! I can just see one of us returning from a "book run" and realizing that we retrieved the wrong volume... "but I thought it said 'Martin Luther'...!?" only to discover it should have been "Martin Luther King, Jr.!" Or instead of getting the right commentary on The Book of Job, selecting a copy of The Gospel According to Steve Jobs (Apple Computer's CEO). And that's why we need the head-lamps. Yes, folks, this is a true story. I can't make this stuff up. It's like the literary critic Elizabeth Hardwick (1916-2007) once wrote: "Reading is...a moral illumination." Well, something like that.

Books in a Bag on the Street!

Finding Orphans Once Again...

Some of you reading this blog might wonder: "where is it that you live that people are just dumping books on the side of the street?" Well, Hyde Park, of course! I've never lived in a place where books could be found in such abundance, literally everywhere--and not just for sale. Those who've followed this blog for the past year have seen books in all sorts of places, including "found" and "orphaned" books. Well, the other day I was walking around the neighborhood; it was a lovely day and the annual art fair was going on. My family and I strolled quietly around the neighborhood to check out the fair and find a few yard sales to peruse. And then the inevitable happened: I sighted some books on the side of the road! Yes, like some ancillary attachment to this micro-society of the Hyde Park neighborhood, which we like to call "the University of Chicago."

Admittedly, after I opened the little plastic bag, rain-soaked from the constant showers that have plagued our late spring along with erratically cold weather, I realized that these were more toward the "trashy" side of the reading spectrum, and likely not the reading materials of a University student in the Core (curriculum)--but who knows! Somehow, I would have been horrified if the stumpy mass paperback tomes were philosophy books or history, for example. Yet, I still gawked at the bag, and pulled out my camera to share this passing experience with you all today. I do wonder how many more neighborhoods like this there are out there...I just haven't experienced them yet. Nonetheless, I look forward to finding some more abandoned treats, though fewer bags of deadened books--especially wet and sick books, malingering on the street, feigning book illness to avoid the work of being read! Poor wet books...whoever put them out as free gifts to the passing pedestrian world didn't realize the rains were coming.

As with all things, even books seem to pass in an out of this world. And now a bag of wet books is consigned to the trash. Thinking about this bag on the street and the fate of books, I was compelled to find a copy of Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, about a man who starts fires and burns books (among other things). I finally hunted the volume down in a public library last evening, some 30 blocks away. It's interesting how one thing leads to another. So I thank you, little bag of wet books, for leading me back to Ray Bradbury..., even if I'm sorry to see that a few more volumes have been lost to this world.