Archive for August, 2009

By Benji Nichols | Image above courtesy Randy Leffingwell, LA Times

There are few inventions in history that have literally changed the landscape like the modern tractor. Steam locomotives were being primitively built as early as the late 1700s in Europe and then America, but it wasn’t until the mid 1800s that steam technology was applied to “Locomobiles” or traction engines (tractor for short!). These early replacements for draft horses were incredible inventions, but also proved to be slow, heavy, and cumbersome. This is where the story of the tractor takes an interesting turn on a little road in Northeast Iowa.

John Froelich was born November 24, 1849 in Giard, Iowa. The first of nine children born to German settlers Johannes Heinrich (Henry) Froelich and Kathryn Gutheil, his life work went far beyond the typical farm – he operated a grain elevator near Froelich, Iowa and ran a threshing operation in Langford, South Dakota. As the story goes, John Froelich was fascinated by steam-driven machinery and farm implements. And not only that: he also worked on them and understood their weaknesses. In 1890 Froelich purchased a gasoline internal combustion engine from the Van Duzen Engine Works in Cincinnati, Ohio, to run his grain elevator. While working with the engine at his elevator he began to tinker with the idea of using the gasoline engine to power a traction engine.

In 1892 Froelich mounted a single-cylinder Van Duzen engine on a Robinson chassis with a traction system of his own design and thus created the very first internal combustion-powered tractor that moved forward and backward, and could also power a threshing machine. Froelich’s sidekick and assistant, William Mann, helped him transport the machine by rail to their South Dakota operation and proceeded to use it to power their J.I. Case threshing machine through 72,000 bushels of grain in 52 days.

On the heels of this accomplishment, a group of investors backed Froelich and formed the Waterloo Gasoline Traction Engine Company in 1893. But unfortunately they only built four of Froelich’s tractors – two of which were returned by unsatisfied customers. In 1895 the company became the Waterloo Gasoline Engine Company and went to work building small stationary gas engines for such uses as pumping water and powering grain elevators. Froelich soon left the company and the Waterloo Company changed hands more than once in the early 1900s, but eventually began to produce the “Waterloo Boy” gas engine farm tractors, a design much like the one John Froelich brought to the company more than a decade before. By 1918, Waterloo Boy had produced three models of the tractor including the LA, R, and N models with over 8,000 tractors sold.

In 1918, The John Deere Company in Moline made a bid of $2.2 million dollars to acquire the Waterloo Boy Tractor Company, thus taking on the most successful modern tractor company of its time, and all of this built off of John Froelich’s original design for the gasoline internal combustion traction engine. John Froelich went on from his early tractor-building endeavor to create engines at the Novelty Iron Work in Dubuque, and then worked with his brother Gottlieb in manufacturing before moving to St. Paul. He was a life-long inventor, credited with such things as a washing machine, dish washer and dryer, a mechanical corn picker, and the first air conditioner that later became the Carrier Air Conditioning Company. In the late 1920 Froelich caught some more bad luck working in the investment world. The great crash of 1929 wiped out much of his livelihood and savings and he spent the final years of his life with his daughter, Jenetie, in St. Paul where he passed away in 1933. He was never recognized for his inventions until decades later. Froelich was inducted into the Iowa Inventors Hall of Fame in 1991. To this day, his name sits on the sidelines in the history of the common farm tractor, but it was indeed his invention and tinkering with the old Van Duzen single cylinder engine that led to one of the world’s most important agricultural implements.

PHOTO COURTESY FROELICH FOUNDATION

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Today the village of Froelich, Iowa sits perfectly captured and re-built as a still-shot from a century ago. A model of John Froelich’s tractor rests outside the refurbished general store. Once a year the village comes alive with action from all over the tri-state area for the annual “Fall-der-All.”

“Fall-der-All” is the annual celebration of the Froelich Tractor and attractions, including the Burlingame General Store Museum, Tractor Museum, one-room country school, blacksmith shop and more. It’s an opportunity for those that love vintage farm equipment to bring their collection in and show it off,” says Froelich foundation President Denny Eilers.

This year, the festival and fundraiser will take place September 26-26, with a variety of displays and activities suitable for the whole family.

The Froelich Foundation board-of-directors is an all-volunteer group that manages the museum, grounds, and historic preservation of Froelich.

“The town of Froelich is significant in agricultural history as it’s the birthplace of the modern farm tractor,” Eilers says. “The Froelich Tractor is the direct ancestor to today’s John Deere tractor division in Waterloo, Iowa, and around the world. There is a huge amount of history coming out of this small village, as historians credit the modern farm tractor as the key tool that helps American farmers create an abundant food supply for our country, plus produce enough to export to other countries. It’s a history we treasure, and the Froelich Foundation was started 21 years ago as a non-profit group of volunteers to preserve this history and pass it down to the next generation.”

You can find out more about the story of John Froelich, the village named after his family, and the annual Fall-der-All by visiting the Village of Froelich located on Highway 18 between Monona and McGregor, Iowa – open through September from 11 am to 5 pm daily except for Wednesdays, and weekends in October. More information and history at www.froelichtractor.com or by calling (563) 536-2841.

Benji Nichols has been fascinated with old tractors and single-piston-engines for as long as he can remember his Grandpa tinkering with them. He looks forward to the Froelich Fall-der-All and Hesper/Mabel Steam Engine days every fall and someday hopes to learn how to engineer steam tractors.

By Keith Lesmeister 

One night, my wife sat me down and started massaging my neck after dinner. She worked me into sort of a daze, and just as my eyes started rolling back she mentioned something about signing us up for swing dance lessons. I snapped out of my daze and sat quietly. I thought about turning on the computer to look for plane tickets on priceline.com, thinking it’d be easier starting life in a new country than learning swing. But then I remembered this idea of being a “yes” person, and how great it is to try new things and have shared experiences as a married couple and all that good stuff.  So I turned to Molly and said, “okay.”

Ten minutes into our first class, my wife and I were stepping in rhythm to an old time rock tune. One – two – rock-step, one – two – rock-step, and the next thing I know a man dressed in jeans, black shoes, and an engineer’s hat turned backwards – our instructor – says, “Nice job.”  I smiled, feeling confident.  After twenty minutes and a little one-on-one instruction from the “King of Swing,” otherwise known as Alan Hockersmith, we were twirling and spinning and laughing.

Alan Hockersmith first tried swing dancing in 1988 during summer break at Kansas University in Lawrence. It was a sleepy summer, Alan recalls, and he thought, “What the heck?” Twenty-one years and more than several dances later, Alan resides in Mabel, Minnesota with his wife and son and happily teaches swing dance and soon a two-step class at Decorah’s ArtHaus.

 “I love helping people make it their own,” Alan says. “If a person wants to move their hips more, move your hips. If not, that’s just fine.”

It was Alan’s parents who turned him on to dance. “They were great dancers,” he says. And distinct.  “They were 6’5” and 5’3” respectively so you couldn’t miss ‘em. And my dad had this thing he did with his left hand – shaking it while he danced – to keep beat.”

History has repeated itself with Alan. After moving to Minneapolis in 1991 and having a difficult time finding dance partners, Alan started teaching. And that’s how he met his wife (she’s 5’0”, Alan is 6’3”).  “It’s been great for my wife and me,” Alan says. “We try and make it to a couple dances each month if we can. It’s a great chance to talk and socialize with others and to just have fun.”  Along with meeting his wife, Alan emerged as one of driving forces behind a swing dance renaissance in the Twin Cities from 1995-1999. 

Named a local swing dance pioneer by the Twin Cities *City Pages, Alan taught classes for Miss Kitty’s Dance. Their group met every Wednesday at Lee’s Liquor Lounge in Minneapolis where Alan’s teaching style of emphasizing fun in any form of dance helped him gain national notice in publication like *Elle and *Minnesota Monthly. Alan brings that fun and vibrancy and passion for dance to his classes at ArtHaus.

In our class of seven couples, Alan took time to walk through and demonstrate both parts of the dance – leader and follower.  The intimate setting of Arthaus – art work from local artists hanging on the walls and an inviting plywood floor – also allowed Alan to provide one-on-one instruction to those couples needing it, walking through each step and spin and twirl before moving on to the next. Usually we’d learn five or six moves in an hour class. Homework, however, was strongly encouraged. But don’t worry, no need to sharpen pencils or buy a three-ring notebook. Our homework required a CD player and a little free time, and remembering dance moves from the last class. Alan was adamant about practice outside of class because if you do, he says, “It’s easier to learn and remember the technical stuff – timing, moves, and steps – but also to develop confidence. And of course it’s fun too.”

Keith Lesmeister is glad that he said “yes” to swing class. He’s now thinking about ripping up carpet in his living room to create a permanent dance floor.  

For anyone interested in learning swing or two-step, Alan is teaching classes this fall at Arthaus. More information at arthausdecorah.org

An Inspire(d) Q&A with Sarah Pratt, Iowa State Fair Butter Sculptress

By Benji Nichols 

With roots dating as far back as the 1400s, butter has been used in various ways to create art – Monks even made deities out of yak butter! Here in Iowa we’ve been making butter art since the early 1900s with the Iowa State Fair “Butter Cow.” The list of the artists who have worked in this medium at the State Fair is surprisingly short, but Inspire(d) was lucky enough to catch up with the latest heir to the title “Butter Sculptor.”

It is worth noting that the construction of a butter figure is even more complex than you would already suspect. More than 600 pounds of low-moisture, pure-cream Iowa butter are used to cover a frame constructed of wood, metal, wire, and steel mesh. Inside a 40-degree cooler, Sarah Pratt applies layer upon layer of butter until an almost full size figure comes to life. It’s also worth noting that the butter is not wasted – in fact, it is often used to create sculptures for up to ten years – so no sneaking a taste! The Midwest Dairy Association has sponsored the attraction since 1960, and we are delighted to have had the chance to ask Pratt a few questions.

Name: Sarah Pratt

Age: 32

Profession: Teacher at Phenix Elementary Early Childhood Center in West Des Moines

I: Where did you grow up? 

SP: Toledo, Iowa

I: How did you get involved with Norma ‘Duffy’ Lyon (Butter Sculptor for decades prior) helping to create the butter sculptures? 

SP:I grew up knowing Duffy and went to school with her grandkids. But it was actually a trip to the State Fair to help a friend of mine, Kari Lyon, who also happens to be the great-niece of Norma. She was showing dairy cattle and I went along to experience life in the Dairy Barn. While Kari was in the show ring I was put to work in the butter cooler, cleaning buckets and softening butter. The next year Norma called me and invited me to help again. I continued to help and Duffy trained me over the next 15 or so years.

I: What’s your favorite butter sculpture or cow that you have created? 

SP: I enjoyed sculpting Harry Potter. There were so many fun things to incorporate from the stories. But the sculpture that I was and am the most passionate about is the piece I sculpted last year honoring Norman Borlaug. So many are unaware of his accomplishments and the difference he has made in the world! It was a privilege to share Mr. Borlaug’s story with Fairgoers.

I: What else will you be carving besides the cow for the 2009 Fair? 

SP: I will be sculpting a scene from the Apollo 11 mission.  “One small step for man, a giant leap for mankind.”

I: How long does it take you to create the sculptures? 

SP: I work for about three weeks before the Fair begins.

I: Any comments about working with butter as a medium? Tricks of the trade?

SP: At the right temperature butter is very much like clay. The trick is to get the butter to that point and keep it there.

I: Anyone you’d like to acknowledge or thank?

SP: I want to thank Norma for all of her support! Without her confidence in my ability I would have never believed I could do it. And of course I need to thank my husband, Andy. He is a great sounding board for ideas and has spent many hours helping me plan and build the armatures.

The Iowa State Fair runs from August 13 to 23, 2009 in Des Moines and you can get in on the butter sculpting action! Submit your name for a chance to test your skills in an all-new Butter Sculpting Competition at the fair. Names will be drawn following each Milking Demonstration in the Milking Parlor at 11 a.m., 3 and 7 p.m. August 17-23. See you at the Fair!

Explore the wonders of Southeast Minnesota’s Root River State Trail & Harmony- Preston Valley State Trail

By Lauren Kraus | Photo by Explore MN Tourism

Originally published in Inspire(d)’s August/September 2009 issue

Cruising along, breeze on face, sun on skin under a canopy of large trees next to a sheer rock-face covered in a mossy green blanket, yes, I was reminded that true trail beauty might sometimes include asphalt. The Root River and Harmony-Preston Valley State Trails in Southeastern Minnesota are a great, smooth, easy-flowing example of this. Hidden in forests, at the bottom of limestone bluffs, meandering through quaint communities, these two state trails are well worth the trip and not to be missed this summer or fall or winter! They are both multiple-use trails ready for walking, biking, running, in-line skating and groomed for cross country skiing in the winter. The Root River State Trail and most of the Harmony- Preston Valley State Trail were constructed on an abandoned railroad grade making the journey fairly level and wheelchair accessible. Few sections have hills. The Harmony-Preston trail is 18 miles long and connects Harmony and Preston with the Root River State Trail, which is 42 miles in total length from Fountain, Minnesota stretching to Houston, Minnesota.

Each trail is dotted with rest shelters, picnic tables and beautiful bridges crossing the Root River. In addition, the picturesque, rural communities along the route not only provide tasty restaurants (a notable pie shop in Whalan, MN), cool historical buildings and museums, but services for trail users too. Outfitters to supply kayaks and canoes for the river, several campgrounds along the way, bed and breakfast inns and fun shops make these state trails a great, new adventure. There is parking available in all of the towns the trails go through, so it is a matter of finding the closest one to you and hitting the pavement! Fountain, Preston and Harmony are all along Highway 52 and very accessible from wherever your starting point may be. Check out www.rootrivertrail.org for great information on the trails and the communities they go through, helpful maps of the trail including a mileage chart and other useful links to the area. Grab your bike and take some time to enjoy this beautiful area via paved, easy going asphalt trail – it’s something to take advantage of in the Driftless Region.

Lauren Kraus, Decorah enthusiast, knows the best way to get to know an area or become familiar with the land is to run on it, tromp through it, hike in it, bike around, just soak it in. Not in a vehicle. Hooray for the good weather of summer and fall.

By Kirstin Roble                                    

The story is something of a fairy tale really. In 1986, four men founded the all-male a cappella group, Rockapella, to rather humble beginnings. Headlining performances on street corners in New York City – their favorite, Columbus and 74th, parked them right in front of a Häagen Dazs – they earnestly crooned their best covers, often Barbershop and doo-wop, to any passerby who’d have a listen. Their blend was impeccable, and this talent didn’t go unnoticed for long. Literally picked up off the pavement, Rockapella got real gigs on real stages, evening attracting the notice of a producer who got them a spot on the television show “Spike and Co.: Do It A Cappella,” hosted by Spike Lee.

Flash forward to several years later. These guys are now bonafide rock stars, selling out stadiums. People of all ages scream with excitement, singing along. Middle-aged, minivan-driving women act like teenagers, yelling the name of their favorite member.

Rockapella tours all over the world. They average a grueling 75 to 100 concerts a year and boast a huge fan-base ranging from kiddos to retirees, and are making the trip to Decorah, Iowa for the very first time September 12. Rockapella’s 7:30 pm show at Luther College’s Center for Faith and Life will kick off the 2009-2010 Center Stage Series. Concertgoers can expect to hear the barbershop and doo-wop of street-corner yore but also contemporary rock and pop, and often Rockapella’s own compositions. But while some things have changed, the pristine blend and energy (possibly brought on by several cans of Diet Mountain Dew they reportedly down before a concert) is still there, and they still do it all a cappella (without instruments). Sound eclectic? It’s kind of hard to fit them in a box.

“Our music is a genre of its own. We are a brand of our own kind of a cappella,” says Scott Leonard, Rockapella producer, writer, and arranger. “What is really awesome about the style of music that we have is that it is something that has spiraled out into other a cappella groups.”

While wholly entrenched in life as a musician now, Scott never originally intended to pursue music as a career.

“I went to Florida – the University of Tampa – to play baseball,” explains Scott in a phone interview. “But,” he admits, “ I burned out and tried the music program, just to be involved.”

That passing involvement turned into something bigger than even Scott had imagined. During college, he sang at Disney World. Post-graduation, he headed to Tokyo Disneyland and was eventually offered a record deal. But it was when we returned from Tokyo in 1991 that he got the deal that would really change his life: a chance to sing with the group, Rockapella.

Now, 18 years later, he’s not only performing with the now five-member group, he’s writing and arranging many of their songs.

“A lot of it is nothing like what people have heard before. The arrangements are often unique, showcasing the wide range of talents of each person in the group,” he says. “Each guy inspires a different set of lyrics. George, the bass, sings the R&B style, smooth sexy songs. John, our newest member, tap dances – he’s like Sammy Davis Jr. – Kevin, he has a really beautiful tenor voice, this ingenue vibe. Jeff, he’s our ‘drummer.’ He does vocal percussion which is amazing.”

Leonard’s appreciation for the different stems of his group’s individual styles may stem from his own musicial upbringing. Though he never intended to major in music, Leonard grew up with an apperciation for it. I spent many, many afternoons listening to my mom’s record collection, Scott recalls. Her records comprised many styles and I think that’s how I started really liking music. From her.

Still don’t think you’re familiar with Rockapella’s music? How about “Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?” Yes, that’s Rockapella. The group participated in 295 episodes of the PBS children’s geography game show, ending their involvement in the early 1990s. For all of the current members of Rockapella but Scott, “Carmen” was before their time. Bringing various experiences and talent to the group, the other members – Kevin Wright (tenor), George Bald (bass), John K. Brown (tenor), and Jeff Thacher (“drums”) – have all become part of Rockapella in the last five years.

 “I’ve been here the longest, so I see myself as kind of the grandfather of the group,” Scott says with a laugh.

Whether you’re a grandfather or a grade-schooler, this show will strike a cord. Even the college-aged set is getting anxious for the a cappella group to hit the stage.

“You have no idea how excited I am about Rockapella coming to Luther,” says Luther College senior Andrew Hillertz. “I’ve seen them live and it’s an awesome show. They’re such great performers. It makes a great experience for the audience. I can’t wait to get my tickets.”

Kirstin Roble is a senior voice pedagogy major and classics/english minor at Luther College. When not singing or studying singing, Kirstin enjoys taking part in a number of different activities such as reading, writing, and the occasional run. A member of the executive board for the Performing Arts Committee at Luther, Kirstin is ecstatic to see Rockapella and the Reduced Shakespeare Company at Luther this fall!

Tickets – youth (4-18) $15, individual $24, and senior citizens (65+) $22 – are on sale September 3 and will be available for purchase at Luther’s Box Office or by calling 563-387- 1357. More info at centerstage.luther.edu. Learn more about Rockapella at www.rockapella.com.

By Kirstin Roble

It’s a relatively simple concept: all of Shakespeare’s plays in one show… in 97 minutes. And keep in mind that there are 37 of them. Okay, maybe it’s not so simple after all. But the Reduced Shakespeare Company is going to do it.

The ensemble will perform “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare” (abridged) in the Center for Faith and Life at Decorah’s Luther College Saturday, September 26 at 7:30 pm.

A quick synopsis: Formed in California in 1981, the Reduced Shakespeare Company (RSC) began as a “pass the hat” mini-Hamlet act. After six years of Renissance Faires and Fests, they developed an hour-long cliff-notes-esque version of all of Shakespeare’s works. Interest in RSC blossoms and they began to tour and expand their show – first in the US and then internationally. Their outside-the-box thinking translated into three successful shows that premiered within quick succession of one each other. The shows: “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare” (abridged); “The Complete History of America” (abridged); and “The Bible: The Complete Word of God” (abridged) ran for nine years at the Criterion Theatre in Piccadilly Circus. They were London’s longest-running comedies – the RSC had more shows running in the West End than Andrew Lloyd Webber. More than Cats? It’s hard to believe, but oh, so true.

They’ve since taken on Literature (with a capitol L), world history, and Hollywood, with shows touring worldwide. And in 2010: “The Complete World of Sports” (abridged, of course). Golf, anyone?

“The Complete Works of Willian Shakespeare” is fast paced and high energy, and introduces a barrage of characters in a small amount of time. If you like Shakespeare and theatre, hate Shakespeare and theatre, or just want to laugh, we suggest you take in this show. Inspire(d) caught up with Reed Martin, performer, writer and managing partner of RSC, while en route to Singapore (the Hong Kong airport has wi-fi!). Reed has written for the BBC, NPR, Britain’s Channel Four, RTE Ireland, Public Radio International, The Washington Post and Vogue magazine and now writes to us here. Enjoy.

I: How did you come to perform/write for the stage? And more specifically, what brought you to RSC?

RM: I began acting and writing at college at UC Berkeley. Then I went to grad school for acting at U.C. San Diego. Then I went Ringling Brothers/Barnum & Bailey Clown College and spent two years with the circus. I joined the RSC and have been at it ever since.

I: So, as a group, you’re heading towards 30 years as a performing ensemble. How do you keep the shows fresh and exciting to new audiences?

RM: We keep the shows fresh several ways. First of all, we have created six shows so we aren’t doing the same one all the time. Secondly, we are constantly tweaking the scripts so that keeps us on our toes. And third, it’s hard not to have a good time when there are 1000 people in the audience laughing hysterically at the show.

I: Since we’re on the subject of Reduced Shakespeare, what’s your favorite show?

RM: I personally like the Office. Oh, you mean of the RSC shows? It’s like asking which is my favorite child. I love them all for different reasons.

I: How is a show like “The Complete works of Shakespeare” put together? The writers obviously have a great knowledge of Shakespeare’s complete works. How do the shows get “trimmed” down and edited into a show like this?

RM: Our approach to creating all of the shows is like this: Take a serious topic. Cut out all of the minor characters and unimportant subplots and get right to the sex and killing. Audiences love it.

I: Also, the dialogue seems quite improvisational at times. How do you balance the improvisation with the scripted? At any given show, how much comes directly from the script and how much is added during the performance?

RM: The show is completely scripted. Most nights there isn’t any improvisation. That being said, occasionally things will go wrong and turn out funny. Then we try to see if we can re-create the mistake every night and make it look like it’s happening for the first time. If much of the show looks improvised, then we are doing our job.

I: Do you have any advice for aspiring performers as they embark onto an incredibly difficult career path?

RM: My first acting teacher gave me advice that I still believe is valid to performing arts students. If there is any other job that you think you might possibly enjoy as much or more than performing, you will be happier in the long run if you pursue the other job. If you can’t imagine doing anything besides performing, then follow your bliss. Performing is the kind of job that is unstable and erratic. You have to really, really love it to stick with it because at times it can break your heart.

I: If you weren’t part of RSC, what do you think you would be doing with your life?

RM: Tough question, since I’ve been with the RSC for 20 years now. If I weren’t with the RSC, maybe I’d be a lamp post.

Kirstin Roble is a senior voice pedagogy major and classics/english minor at Luther College. When not singing or studying singing, Kirstin enjoys taking part in a number of different activities such as reading, writing, and the occasional run. A member of the executive board for the Performing Arts Committee at Luther, Kirstin is ecstatic to see Rockapella and the Reduced Shakespeare Company at Luther this fall!

Tickets, on sale September 10, are $23 (Adults), $21 for Seniors (65+), and $15 for youth (4-18). They are available at the Luther College Box Office or by calling 563-386-1357 or for purchase online at centerstage.luther.edu.

Learn more at reducedshakespeare.com

Lark and Termite by Jayne Anne Phillips

By Amy Weldon

Novelist John Gardner described writing as a “vivid and continuous dream” that the reader can enter only to the degree that the writer has created it: if the reader stumbles over a word, action, or image that doesn’t ring true, she’ll be awakened from the “dream” just like a rapt sleepwalker stubbing her toe. And, like the sleepwalker, the reader will hesitate to enter that novel again. So, for a novelist, the stakes are high. How can she be true to her own highly individual “dream” of character, situation, and place and fashion it into an accessible form? How can she render it in language that is both familiar enough to entice readers and fresh enough to be pleasurably vivid and strange? How can she recreate the visible world and make it her own?

Jayne Anne Phillips’ risky, luminous new novel Lark and Termite answers all these questions by carrying us into an ordinary world that comes to feel enchanted. The story accretes gradually, through characters’ alternating voices, and shifts in space and time: as we watch a precocious teenage girl, Lark, and her disabled younger half-brother (nicknamed “Termite”), prepare for a flood that will strike their West Virginia town in 1959, we also witness the death of Corporal Robert Leavitt at No Gun Ri, Korea in 1950, when, Phillips says in an interview, “several hundred civilians and the American troops evacuating them were mistakenly strafed by friendly fire.” Each locus of action includes a web of surrounding characters: Nonie, the children’s aunt; Solly, the rebellious boy who loves Lark; Tompkins, Leavitt’s comrade in arms; and two unnamed children in the tunnel who come, eerily, to mirror the children Leavitt has left behind.  Floating over and among all these other stories is the figure of Lola, Lark’s and Termite’s mother, Leavitt’s lover and wife, and a sensual, enigmatic presence who continues to destabilize the family she’s left behind.

Sounds interesting, you might say, but what do West Virginia and Korea have to do with each other? The answer, I think, lies in Phillips’ method: juxtapose different things just far enough apart to make connections interesting for you and your readers. Make each world vivid and intriguing, weaving subtle threads between them. Soon, the novel takes on the compelling logic of a dream, in which the startling and the familiar rub off on each other. And when readers put the book down, the everyday world will rise up new in front of their eyes, chancy, delicate, and beautiful, underwoven by connections they’d never seen. This is the way writers work, the way they create and enchant. “The writer gets addicted to any glimpse of the miraculous,” Phillips has written in her essay “Dreaming of Beauty,”  “and the real miracle is in the process itself.  Is this what we mean by beauty: no maps, no guidelines, no guarantees? Loving something fearsome, even terrifying, out of instinctual belief in what lies beneath the surface?” This could be a description of Lark and Termite and of the forces that hover “beneath the surface” of its characters’ lives: obsession, memory, and love. And this is what binds us to novels; we love them, enchanted, without quite knowing why, especially when they’re as skilled as this.

The world of Lark and Termite, like dreams themselves, is a place where the boundaries between past and present, one side of the world and another, one life and another, are porous.  “He commanded a platoon now,” Leavitt thinks, “and he sees that war never ends; it’s all one war despite players or location, war that sleeps dormant for years or months, then erupts and lifts its flaming head to find regimes changed, topography altered, weaponry recast…Leavitt senses the dead furling like smoke from the vented earth, wandering the same ground as the living.” He thinks of Lola’s letters to him about the child she’s carrying whom he’ll never see, who will become Termite: “he turns like a fish and he sees and hears for you,” Lola writes, “every sound, every thought I haven’t written.”

What Termite does know, and see, is another enigma; unable to speak coherently or to move from the chair in which he spends his days, he’s pure sensation, a stream of images and memories. “He’s alive all over,” says his sister Lark, who cares for him. “Nonie says I put thoughts in his head, he might not be thinking anything. Maybe he doesn’t have to think, I tell her. Just don’t you be thinking a lot of things about him that aren’t true, she’ll say. But no one can tell what’s true about him.” Like Leavitt’s, Termite’s thoughts are rendered in third person, not in first (as for Nonie and Lark), which makes him feel tantalizingly familiar yet foreign.  Although Faulkner’s Benjy Compson seems his obvious ancestor, Termite’s interior state is Phillips’ own creation, often mirroring or revising what other characters see: “Lark bends over him and her hair falls along his neck and shoulders, her hair moves and breathes over his back and chest in a dark curtain that falls and falls.” (Tellingly, this image recurs in Leavitt’s death, which Termite would have had no way of seeing or knowing; these hints of supernaturalism deepen the novel’s enchantment.) Termite loves to dangle strips of dry-cleaning plastic in the breeze – “he sees through the blue and it goes away, he sees through the blue and it goes away again” – an image that recurs, heartbreakingly, at the end of the novel, as Lola smokes a final cigarette: “Air pulls the thin blue trail out the window, into the evening.” Despite his apparent vacancy, Termite draws the other characters – and the novel – around himself, uniting the novel as a dream is united by a single image that haunts the rest of a waking day. “Termite is a kind of living secret,” Phillips has said in an interview, “but he can’t communicate that secret to anyone. He doesn’t even know what the secret is.”

Even as it immerses us into an ordinary world enchanted by Phillips’ careful writing, Lark and Termite also engages us with a subtle series of revelations that deepen the plot. She weaves together fear, suspense, delight, and eroticism, and her precise, lyrical tone never bobbles. Only after you finish this novel do we see how complex a structure she’s built and how easy she’s made it look. Read Lark and Termite and be enchanted – and be reminded of how the mysteries of the past hover below the surface of our present lives, touching us with light, ghostly fingers.

Amy Weldon, an Alabama native, teaches creative writing, literature, and Paideia at Luther College

NY Indy Band sets ambitions high, the result? Possibly the most satisfying album of the year so far…

 By Jason Hettinger

 
It’s ironic that the Brooklyn-based independent rock band Grizzly Bear named their latest album after an uninhabited island off the coast of Massachusetts. Ironic in the sense that the album Veckatimest is vibrant and full of life. Even the band’s name is slightly ironic, as the name Grizzly Bear conjures up images of a tough, hard, rocking, and, well, grisly sound. Instead the band sounds (and by looking at their pictures, also looks) rather artsy and intelligent.

Veckatimest is only Grizzly Bear’s third full-length album and certainly their most ambitious to date. Various genres are seamlessly blended together through the entire album, and it results in a very satisfying and unique sound. From folk-pop to doo-wop, or psychedelic to ethereal baroque harmonies, there is plenty of musical complexity and experimentation to satisfy true lovers of music.

Grizzly Bear lets the listener know how wide the album’s scope is in the lead track Southern Point – centered on a slinking bass line, it switches quickly into psychedelic folk-jazz with bustling acoustic guitars, piles of shimmering vocal harmonies, swishing drums, and various other sparkling sounds. The point of the track is to take the listener’s breath away immediately, and let them know exactly the kind of remarkable ride they’re about to take, and it works.

Within two tracks you know you are experiencing an extraordinary piece of art. After the breathtaking, disorientating punch-in-the-gut of “Southern Point,” Veckatimest picks the tempo up with the lead single of the album, “Two Weeks,” by far the catchiest song on Veckatimest. Plucky Regina Spektor-esque piano chords drive the song along, as the band effortlessly floats mesmerizing, blissful harmonies behind it. It is inevitable that “Two Weeks” will draw plenty of associations to early Beach Boys works, or even a more contemporary comparison to 2008 juggernaut Fleet Foxes. Some of the comparisons are warranted (and quite frankly, very favorable!) by the intricate attention to details and strict harmonies, but what sets Grizzly Bear apart is their sheer ambition to sound as simple as possible to casual listeners, but also find the complex musical niche they strive for.

Tracks such as “Fine for Now,” “Ready, Able,” and “I Live With You” are perfect examples of Grizzly Bear’s multifaceted strategy. Take any of those songs and you will find moments just about anyone will be able to identify with, be it a lyric, or any specific musical characteristic or sound. But as a whole, the songs are puzzles to be solved. Intricate arrangements and vague lyrics leave the listener to decipher exactly what point the band is trying to make.

It really is yet another irony of Veckatimest. The complex, intricate harmonies and instrumental arrangements are a severe contrast to the simple, imprecise, open-endedness of the lyrics. They will never be confused with the lyrics from Bob Dylan’s mid-60’s heyday, but at their best the lyrics are quite beautiful and most importantly, thought-provoking. The lyrics that I find most intriguing include the final almost chant-like segment that repeats at the end of the track “All We Ask” – I can’t get out of what I’m into with you – Another lyrical gem that I can’t seem to get out of my mind, from the track “Ready, Able”: I’m going to take a stab at this, surely it’ll be alright, make a decision with a kiss…five years and countless months all alone, hope I’m ready, able to make my own good home.

It’s clear that Grizzly Bear intended for Veckatimest to be listened to over and over. The album is a musical equivalent to a large buffet. There is something for everyone, there is a lot to digest, and you want to keep going back for seconds and possibly thirds. Grizzly Bear far exceeds any expectations with Veckatimest, and there is no doubt in my mind that in December, when looking back over the year 2009 in music, Veckatimest will still be highly regarded as one of the best, groundbreaking albums of the year.

Jason is a 24-year-old music lover who is proud to say that he works at KDEC-FM 100.5 as an “Ad-Guy.” You can also catch Jason on-air on FM 100.5 weekend afternoons or sometimes filling in for Tim or Jeni on the Morning Show. If you have any comments or questions, feel free to email Jason at jason@kdecradio.com

Interviewed by granddaughter Aryn Henning Nichols (August/September 2009)
(Photo taken on her wedding day.)

Betty (Thomson) Piggott, 90 years old on August 5, has always been the real matriarch of our extended family. Heading over to her house on Sundays, we would be greeted by a table all set and a meal – usually some kind of meat and potatoes – ready to go. Feisty and fun, we played board and card games when I was a little girl. She could often beat me in Chinese checkers, but the game Concentration – I had that in the bag. And she makes the best apple pie in the world.

1. What’s the best advice anyone ever gave you?

Be good and do what you started out to do.

2. Worst advice?

Oh, I don’t know. I was lucky enough to not get any bad advice, I guess!

3. What did you want to be when you grew up?

My dad wanted me to be a nurse, but I instead did housework.

4. What did/do you do?

I went on to be an office assistant, which is what I was doing when I met Curtis. I did pretty much everything in that office. I had to take care of a lot of things. Then I became a housewife and mother.

5. If you were stranded on a desert island, what three things would you want with you?

A man, sweets, and… TV, I suppose.

 6. If you could eat anything every day for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Any kind of sweets. (Aryn’s note: Grandma requested a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting for her birthday. Must  be hereditary: it’s my favorite too. I was happy to bake her one because I got to eat some too!)

7. Name one thing you could not live without.

I don’t think there’s anything I couldn’t live without.

8. Tell us about: your wedding day.

It was very short at the Catholic Church. The only people there were Jim and Bernie Hoolihan. We went and picked up Curtis’s folks after and went out to eat in Decorah – I don’t remember where. It was nice that morning, but by night it was snowing so hard we could barely see the road. We went to La Crosse and stopped at Curtis’s cousins on the way, but they all had the measles! They were surprised to see us, but we celebrated. Then they had to take us to our hotel because we had a flat tire. We went to Minneapolis the next day and got another flat tire, but we made it. And we didn’t get the measles.

words and photos by Kelly Larsen 

The disdain I once held for gardening still remains distinct in my memory. As a little kid, I dreaded being told to pick beans from the long, lush bushes beyond our back porch. With dirt-encrusted ice cream buckets in hand, my siblings and I would trudge out into the sunshine and complain our way down the never-ending rows, sweating and moaning.  Mission accomplished, bushes bare, we would trudge back inside, plopping the bucket onto the scarred kitchen table only to be greeted with a smile, a cutting board, and the task of trimming heads and tails from the beans before dinner. After considerable protest, we would sigh, resigned to our fate, and begin the monotonous chopping process. I hated gardening, my nine-year-old self decided. I liked beans, but definitely not gardening.

If only I had known.  A decade later, my college roommate and I found ourselves craving homegrown, flavorful produce after a semester of cafeteria food. In a surge of optimistic domesticity, we soon had our own little assortment of plastic cups and earthenware pots lined scraggily along the windowsill in our dorm room: carrots, marigolds, thyme, basil, parsley, oregano, and violets. Some were successful, some less so. But we treasured our little garden, watering it daily with drips from our Nalgenes, rejoicing together over little green sprouts in the early spring gloom of papers and exams. In our garden we found a return to home, the satisfaction of growth and development, and a little outlet from the stress and cares of college life. We loved our garden. It didn’t matter that our carrots were underdeveloped and the oregano never grew. We were trying it. Soon our curious friends came in to examine our attempts, some eventually planting their own flowers and veggies. Our puny plants quickly blossomed into a community garden of sorts, an assortment of pots worth much more than the sum of its parts.

Gardening – both community and home-based – is growing just like those scrawny plants in our dorm room window. According to a recent survey by the National Gardening Association, approximately 36 million American homes – 31% of US households – had a food garden in 2008. In 2009 that number was expected to increase dramatically, up to 43 million households (37%). Reasons for that upswing varied, with the desires for better tasting, cheaper, higher quality, and safely grown food topping the list.  Though the vast majority of food gardens are still found at individuals’ homes, more than a third of those surveyed said they would be at least somewhat interested in community gardening. The idea of gardening in community, a group of people sharing a plot of land, has been around for years, especially in urban communities where green space is scarce. In recent times the trend has spread into more rural areas, including Northeast Iowa.

Gardening has already proven itself a valuable pastime. The monetary return over one growing season from the average American’s $70 garden investment equals about $530.  With recession-frugality reigning and a generational trend towards organic, eco-friendly, and homegrown products, gardening – especially community gardening – has become a popular way to share, produce, and save. Even the White House has caught the bug: Michelle Obama’s food garden has made international news and the USDA’s People’s Garden is inspiring embassies around the world. Gardening has gone mainstream, appearing on such popular shows as Martha Stewart, where Decorah’s own Seed Savers Exchange was featured in February 2009.

Though Seed Savers Exchange’s focus is seeds, not produce, the organization plays an important role in area agriculture and gardening. Its lavish gardens, nestled among the Heritage Farm’s acres of woods and trails, certainly catch the eye of local and visiting gardening enthusiasts. It was misting gently when I visited, and my jaw dropped at the veritable Eden of growing plants. Notebook in hand, I strode quietly alongside Shannon Carmody – an Illinois native now interning at the heritage farm – as she pointed out highlights of the organization’s many on-site gardens. Vegetables and herbs nestled among flowers and themed mini-gardens within a broader tapestry of flora all provide beautiful examples of edible landscaping, companion planting, and organic gardening at their finest. But the Seed Savers gardens serve a greater purpose than just beautifying Northeast Iowa. The number of needy recipients of the organization’s Herman’s Garden program – a seed donation program designed to help non-profit community gardens and educational programs around the country – jumped more than 30 percent in 2009. Seed Savers has seen huge growth in public interest in gardening over the past year and membership has also increased 47 percent.

“It’s trendy,” Shannon laughs.  “Especially with people in our younger generation, there’s a do-it-yourself trend.  Knitting, home brewing… even gardening.  It’s vogue; it’s hip now. It’s hip environmentalism.”  Of course, she adds, the increased interest in gardening isn’t solely due to the garden projects of celebrities like Martha Stewart and Michelle Obama. “It goes mainstream, and then it’s accessible. I hope people actually see that it’s important. It’s important to have your own food, to understand where it’s coming from.”

Seed Savers Editor John Torgrimson agrees. “I think the growth is due to a lot of different things,” he says. “You could say that the economic times are such that people are looking for ways to control costs, and gardening is something you can actually do. A lot of people do it for recreation. It’s a great pastime. And the benefits are obvious.”

John and his wife Pat enjoy a large garden at home, while Shannon maintains a plot in Decorah’s community garden, located in the floodplain by the Upper Iowa River.

That community garden, Shannon adds, has been a joy, and enables inexperienced gardeners to learn from others. “It’s hard to be the pioneer when you don’t know what you’re doing,” she explains. “But when you see your neighbor doing it, it becomes accessible.”

Rick Edwards, Decorah Parks and Recreation director, was instrumental in bringing the Decorah community garden to fruition in the spring of 2008. Though a massive flood wiped out the first year’s efforts, this summer there has been a resurgence of interest, with different families and individuals maintaining about 20 gardens. The 20-by-20-foot plots cost $25, with water and mulch provided. The soil is good, Rick adds, though the deer can be bad.  But that’s part of the gamble of gardening.

The beauty of the community garden aspect, he says, is in the collaboration and creativity. “Everybody gets together and talks, you know, about how stuff is growing, how the deer are eating it… some people are having pretty good success,” he explains.  “We have everything from very experienced gardeners to some gardeners that are giving it their first shot. But they’re all in one spot, so the novice gardeners can get advice, see how the experts do it, help each other out.” 

The sense of community, however, isn’t the only thing that drew Edwards and residents of Decorah’s neighborhoods to gardening. For Rick, like many others, it comes back to knowing where his food comes from and what’s in it. “There’s something great about having a tomato and knowing you’re the only one who’s touched it,” he says.

Not surprisingly, that desire for healthy, local food is also part of what inspired Decorah’s Jenni Werners and Deborah Bishop to organize other volunteers and plant a garden specifically designated for the Decorah Area Food Pantry. 

“Most people at the food pantry can’t afford to garden themselves, or housing is the issue, or even transportation to get down to the community garden,” Jenni explains.

Surrounded by fencing draped with clanking, deer-dissuading tin pie plates, the plot is full of a variety of well-tended vegetables, from the conventional potato to the mysterious rutabaga. Jenni and Deborah also know of many other groups that have collaborated on garden projects for donation to the community. Theirs is just a small patch in what they hope to see grow into a larger movement. Though the struggling economy has probably bolstered the growth in gardening, both women agree that the revitalized interest is a good thing.

“It’s got people excited,” says Jenni. “And it’s really a lot of fun,” Deborah adds.

Gardeners like Jenni and Deborah are an enthusiastic lot, and that enthusiasm seems contagious. Luther College has a large community garden for faculty and staff flourishing on Pole Line Road; Waukon boasts a community garden which was planted to improve access to locally grown food; the Northeast Iowa Food and Fitness initiative maintains a heavy emphasis on fresh, healthy, and local food; the Decorah Community School District has begun working to add garden-grown produce to its cafeteria options; and even college students like myself, stereotypically both busy and cheap, are forgetting their childhood disdain and digging in.

Perhaps the pendulum is swinging in a new direction. Gardening is chic again, and the generational trend of re-learning our grandparents’ habits is inspiring. Maybe next year my roommate and I will be able to find a patch of ground on campus where we can dirty our hands and grow a few herbs and veggies. If not, the windowsill will work fine. After all, the carrots are only part of the joy. Growing them together is the real fun.

Kelly Larsen is a student of international relations, journalism, and Spanish at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, Michigan.  Next year she dreams of growing a watermelon in her dorm room “garden.”