A Wedding & Burning Man

Dear friends and family,

First of all, thanks to all of you who have written a response. What incredible friends and family. You are loved (if not by us, by someone). Joking, you're loved by us.

Got this wonderful photo by Ms. O, who we usually bring along with us on our trips, as, apart from her other manifold charms, she has a knack for capturing pictures that no one else seems to get: Don swimming in the Venice canal, Don up to his knees in Romanian potholes, Don and Era in a gypsy cart. This time Ms. O managed to get a photo of Obama in the White House! with Don doing his impression of George W, the 1st. Obama found it very amusing.

The next morning we met Joann Moser, one of the curators at the Smithsonian, at the National Portrait Gallery for a tour of the Nam June Paik show and to see the Chuck Close Obama tapestries installed there. The tapestries, which usually look so huge, looked a normal size on the museum walls. The Nam June Paik exhibition was very well installed; we spoke about how it could so easily have been overwhelming. Also a great little piece by a San Francisco artist, whose name I can't remember, naturally, his impression of a miniature Smithsonian. I have a feeling Inez and Andrew gave me a catalog of his work at one time. Joann took us to a wonderful Burmese restaurant for lunch for a delicious ginger salad. We had had a quick dinner with Chuck, Sienna, Thais (correct spelling) and Joann at the train station the evening before, right after the White House, where Chuck and crew ate efficiently and hurried off to catch a train back to NY. Manny was driving the precious signed prints back.

Obama tapestries hanging at the Smithsonian for President's Day, with Joann and Don.

On Joann's recommendation, we took a cab out to the Katzen to see our friend Andrea Way's retrospective at the American University. We greeted Jack Rasmussen in the hallway as he was rushing to make a dental appointment. After seeing Joann's quite beautiful show of incredibly detailed work, we caught the train to NY, where we were able to plug in and start receiving all your emails. I have to admit I did receive some during our lunch with Joann. How rude.

One of the pen and ink and mixed media pieces from Andrea Way's retrospective.

10 minutes before we were to arrive in Penn Station, the strangest thing happened. I was standing in the train aisle with my suitcase when my rings, my 2 wedding rings, fell off my finger. It felt as if they were literally sucked off my ring finger. I dropped to the floor and very quickly found what I think of as my Squeak ring, as it was inspired by Squeak and Gary's wedding rings, a wide gold band with white and black jade dots embedded in it, only mine has additional green dots in it. But my mother's even wider and chunkier gold band, which my father had made for my mother, could not be found. We had about half the people in the train cabin, all the people on our side of the train looking, many with their iPhone flashlights on and it was just nowhere to be found. It's probably one of the physical objects I most valued. Both Don and I felt like someone (my parents ?) was trying to send me a message - maybe Don't get too pleased with yourself. As my ex-boyfriend (when I was 19 years old) Chris wrote: "The Dalai Lama, Brad Pitt and now Obama. There will be no living with you." Well, I'm still here on Planet Earth, in the physical universe and living this incredibly wonderful and sometimes not so wonderful life.

Don gave up looking before I did (he was afraid the train would pull away), and I followed him off the train and up the escalator. As we reached the top of the escalator, I realized I didn't have my cell phone. We searched our possessions and Don looked at his app which shows the cell phone's location. "It's still on the train." I ran down one escalator, but then had to run down an Up escalator, as I couldn't find the way down to the train. Found a couple of the same people in our compartment. Now I was back looking for my cell phone. I must have seemed like a crazy person. One level-headed woman offered to call my cell phone, and when I couldn't remember my number, we called Don's cell. "He's got your cell phone." "You've got my cell phone?" "Yes, get off the train. It's leaving in 30 seconds." At least I didn't break a leg running down that Up escalator.

When we checked into our hotel the man at the front desk asked, "So how was your day?" "Real highs and real lows. Got a hug from Obama yesterday and just lost my mother's wedding ring today." "Oh."

In NY for a few days, working with Kiki Smith and Chuck Close. How does it get any better?

Kiki, Beka and Don contemplating imagery and possible material for another tapestry.

Kiki working away amidst her sculptures.

Chuck's studio with Manny, large scale prints and tapestries. A row of Obama portraits on the floor. Chuck gave the President a couple of portraits in that "smaller" size.

Some of Chuck's African art and a pillow made for him in Chuck's favorite colors by a friend who was undergoing many hours of dialysis.

It's not all work, though. Some good food was had.

Finishing up breakfast at Peels.

The staff at Peels.

Era, looking pretty pleased at the idea of eating her merluz with cockles and small white beans at Il Buco. Delish.

Chuck looking almost reverent before digging into his octopus.

Japanese at Sobaya. Also very much enjoyed cocktails at Amor y Amargo, a bitters tasting room; and Empellon Cocina, Mexican fusion - sweetbread tacos. Yummy.

Cheers! Love you!

Era and Don

Hi friends and family,

It turns out there were no national emergencies and our meeting at the White House with Chuck Close and President Obama went extremely well.

We were picked up by Chuck, Sienna and Chuck's nurse, Tyice (sp?) at the Willard Hotel (we are not staying there; just meeting there). Then we drove across the street to the White House. There we had to pass thru about 5 different security gates. At the first gate, Tyice was turned away. She couldn't even drive the van onto the grounds. She had not been previously cleared. So Sienna took over and we drove to the next gate, which was maybe 10 yards further. There a guard came out with a German Shepherd and walked a rotation around the van, the Shepherd sniffing it from all angles.

It's really cold in Washington. Chuck passing in front of the Treasury Department and one of the gates.

We passed the dog test and another gate slid down into the road, allowing us to drive thru. At that point we were able to park with a number of other vans and SUVs, some of them with Obama stickers. We got out of the van into the DC cold, where we waited patiently at another gate while the guards checked our credentials once more. We walked down a path next to the Treasury Department and turned into another guardhouse, which then, after more checking of papers, scanning etc, led directly into the White House.

This is the beautiful waiting room.

Chuck and Meaghan, one of the people running the re-election fundraiser campaign.

"Our" room is ready ("The Map Room").

Sienna, Chuck's partner, an excellent photographer and talented artist. We were told in emphatic terms that we were not allowed to photograph the president in the White House.

But we could photograph his tapestry. When Obama walked in he said he thought it was kind of scary to see himself that big.

After unpacking we had a bit of a wait till the great man arrived.

Don enthroned in a replica of a chair once owned by George Washington. They had some of the original chairs in the room; same red damask, slightly faded.

Manny, Chuck's righthand man, and Chuck. Beth, Chuck's other irreplaceable assistant had to hold down the fort in NY and could not be with us at the White House.

After a couple false alarms ("We have movement; he's on his way." It turns out he was moving somewhere else), Obama walked into the room with a few secret service. Famous big smile, he seemed like an old friend. He greeted Chuck, whom he knows, and came over to me. I told him that we were from Oakland. He replied "I love Oakland." Good response, but I bet he says that to all the home towns. I said everybody in Oakland and all of the artists, when I told them I might be seeing Obama, said, "Give him a hug from me. We love Obama." He said, "Well, you better give me a hug, then." So I hugged Obama from all of you (in my mind, everybody who is getting this email) and he hugged me back. Awesome!

He very efficiently signed all the prints he was supposed to sign and all of the tapestry labels. He made a couple cracks about the new Treasury Secretary Jack Lew's signature and said Lew is going to have to do something about changing it. Obama has a great signature, by the way, and so does Chuck, so the signatures look great on the prints and on the labels. They don't devalue them, as Obama has joked Jack Lew's signature might do to the currency.

Pretty much of a respectful silence was maintained while Obama was signing. It's difficult for anyone to try to field questions and carry on a conversation while signing a number of pieces which have to be signed perfectly. It was so tempting to pull out an iPhone and snap a photo. Too bad it makes that ostentatious clicking sound.

After signing, I did manage to tell him that we drive a Volt which we power with solar panels. And Don mentioned that we have not filled up in over 2500 miles, which is true. In fact, we have not filled up that car yet. I thanked him for the federal tax credits. He seemed pleased. Don told him that the artists loved him. Manny got a hug, too, something about his grandmother wanting to give Obama a hug. Apparently, this is the path to an Obama hug. Actually, Manny's grandmother wanted him to give Obama a hug and a kiss. Obama said he'd hug him, but declined the kiss. And that was it; he was out the door to his next important meeting or task. We found him to be absolutely charming.

Chuck signing one of the huge prints.

Didn't manage to get a photo of Don with Obama, but did get one of Don cuddling up to Bo, the family dog. This photo taken right after Bo had been licking Don's face. So Don must have some Obama family DNA now.

We may get some photos from the official photographer. I hope so. If so, I'll send some, but probably will not be right away.

Love from DC,

Era and Don

Dear everyone,

Thanks to those who wrote reassuring me that we should not edit the food reviews and photos. My Uncle Tom, who used to be in the fishing industry, wrote with some useful information on hake or, as the Spanish say, merluza.

"hake is now called Pacific Whiting on the West Coast. It formerly was fished by foreign fleets from Russia, China, Korea. Now they are excluded from the 200 mile zone. The name change was thought to make it more appealing to market in US. This fish is very tender, but must be handled with chipped ice water as enzymes will deteriorate the flesh if it is allowed to warm."

I can vouch for the melting tenderness. Great stuff. It's not the most attractive fish when live and whole, although, like most of us, it would probably prefer to be alive and unattractive than the alternative. Sorry, it's very early in the morning.

Flew from Barcelona to Las Palmas Airport and took a bus into the city; our hotel, the very comfortable Parque, was close by. Walked to the museum, Contemporanea Atlantico Arte Moderna or CAAM, which is in a lovely old part of the city. The Canary Islanders don't quite look Spanish to me, on the whole, and their accent is different. I kept thinking they were Portuguese. The original Canary Islanders were more like Berbers. The architecture in the old part of town looks somewhat like Colonial Mexican with a touch of North Africa.

We are always in a state of excitement when exploring a new area or city. This is a new island and a new part of the world.

Looking down the street at the exterior of CAAM. The red building, 2 cream colored buildings and I think the white building on the right-hand side of the street are all CAAM.

And a little further down the street. They are about 2 blocks from the ocean.

Looking up the street, the old Cathedral.

Around the corner, the Columbus House Museum. I don't believe Columbus ever lived here, or not for any length of time. He did provision his ships in the Canaries.

And this is the amazing inside of the museum. So the beautiful old colonial exterior, and when you enter, this is what you see. The show looks stunning in this setting. Magnolia was very happy to be a part of it.

Faisal's piece Adeve, printed at Magnolia, carbon black pigment on two very long panels of backlit film. Omar, Faisal and some BBC journalists.

All very well, but what, you may ask, are you doing at CAAM in Las Palmas, Gran Canaria, Canary Islands? We were introduced to Faisal Abdul-Allah and Barbaro Martinez-Ruiz by Enrique Chagoya. Barbaro teaches at Stanford, along with Enrique, and Faisal was a guest professor. Barbaro and Faisal worked with us to print a few large-scale images for an exhibition at Stanford of Faisal's work. During the course of our work together, we became good friends. The show at Stanford later grew into an exhibition at CAAM. The timing was right, we had never been to the Canary Islands, Barbaro told us the museum was amazing, Magnolia had worked on a lot of the show, and so we came.

Era and Faisal - note: no brown coat. It is almost warm here, while the rest of Europe is freezing.

Inspecting an installed tapestry; Barbaro in foreground.

Faisal, Barbaro and Omar, the Director of CAAM. Barbaro and Omar grew up together in Cuba.

The patio in the staff area at CAAM. What wouldn't we give to have such a place for our staff at Magnolia.

Faisal and Barbaro's sister, Marilu (sp?), who is an artist living in Barcelona. They give a thumbs up to the food. Squash or pumpkin soup in front of Marilu.

I haven't so far mentioned the problems we were having with our flights on this trip. We had 3 different flights either cancel or change on us. A joint flight operated by Iberia and Vueling from Seville to Las Palmas was moved up one day. Fortunately, they gave us more than a week's notice, so we were able to change hotel reservations, other travel, etc. while on our trip with sometimes spotty internet connections.

When we arrived in Seville and met up with Salustiano, he told us that SpanAir that day, and quite suddenly, had gone bankrupt and ceased operations. They were not operating, not refunding any money, and not paying their staff their wages. We were scheduled to fly out of the Canary Islands to Barcelona on SpanAir. When we searched for replacement tickets, they were almost impossible to find. We almost thought we would have to cancel the Canary Islands, but ended up booking with the dreaded Ryanair at great expense (as it was last minute). The problem was they had no flights available on the day we wanted, Saturday, and we had to fly out on Friday afternoon, right before Faisal's opening. We also paid an exorbitant price to check our little carry-on (about $50), as TryingAir (Ryanair) charged Marilu (above) an extra 120 British pounds (about $190) for her carry-on. They charge you more if you don't pay for it on-line, and they are so friggin arbitrary. On our flight many people had oversized carry-ons, but on some flights the people in charge are Nazis and overcharge you for everything. Actually, the TryinAir staff in the Canary Islands were pleasant and seemed like normal people.

Finally, and I'm now writing from the perspective of the present, because we flew home last night and are only pretending to be in the Canaries in this blog, we woke up yesterday morning to an email from British Air informing us that our flight from Barcelona to London had been cancelled. We later found out that this was probably due to heavy snow in London and elsewhere. The air traffic controllers had ordered that half the flights in and out of Heathrow should be cancelled. We scrambled, emailing, calling England, and were able to secure and make an earlier flight, which meant we left our Barcelona apartment immediately and sooner than planned.

Fortunately, and so far as usual, we missed most of the horrible weather that the rest of Europe was experiencing. We hadn't even realized there was a problem. The canals in Venice were/maybe are in danger of freezing. Our friend, Elisabetta Wholey, sent us this photo of her place in Umbria.

Love,

Era and Don

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