Kathryn Dyer Art: Prints for Christmas

These days I am involved in exhibiting Kathryn Bradford Dyer's linocuts.  She was a local artist who taught at the Art Institute of Chicago for twenty years. I knew her and  she had no family, so when she died, she left the art to me. I consider it my job to promote and preserve her art and introduce people to her through her art, thereby preserving her memory.

I am very happy with how the shows are working out --far better than I thought possible. It's because I have people who actually like Kathryn Dyer's art. Bruce, a local artist, appreciates her
soulful expression and Susan, a local designer, sees proportion and pattern in Kathryn's work that perhaps only a designer could appreciate.

There's a certain whimsy in the art of Kathryn Dyer that I never really noticed before. Along with the drama of her chronic depression which appears as a kind of darkness in Kathryn's art, there was always a bit of wow here and there.

The linocut featuring Adlai Stevenson's quote "The Life of an Egg-head is Difficult" shows his head rolling around as a chicken egg would in an eccentric way.   Also, her pieces of flotsam and jetsam from the sea shores and the Indiana sand dunes hang from her banner prints like little jokes, wry comments, happy serendipity.

The linocut show is called "From Darkness to Light, The Linocuts of Kathryn Dyer." It was exhibited at Westmont Public Library for six weeks this Fall (2012). Now, a separate linocut show of her Christmas designs --Christmas Cards -- she called them will be on exhibit at Lombard Public Library.

Benedictine University will exhibit the linocuts in April, 2013 for four to six weeks. I am delighted with this arrangement.  I only wish that Kathryn could see the faces of people as they see her art for the first time. Kathryn Dyer art is finally being exhibited and we are all better for having discovered it.

Wonder Bread Died Today. R.I.P.

When I was a kid we lived one block from the Wonder Bread baking company. All I had to do any day of the week was to open the door of our basement apartment and the sweet, yeasty smell of bread baking entered my soul.  Yes, I know that sounds dramatic but let me back up a bit. I'll return to Wonder bread in a minute.

Both of my grandmothers made bread. I still remember coming home from school, opening the door
and being greeted by that wonderful smell of bread baking. A visiting grandmother would be fluttering around the kitchen, tending to the details of preparing dinner while the bread baked. I soon would forget about the outside bread smell from the Wonder Bread plant.

My father's mother was a warm, stout woman who loved kids, joking around, and playing pinochle.
Just before her bread came out of the oven, she knelt down and brushed egg whites over the top of each one.  The loaves baked for a few minutes more and each came out with a golden, crusty top. Compared to this bread, the soft, white sliced Wonder Bread baking down the street was bogus, hardly a bread at all, I thought at the time.

My mother's mother, a gentle woman with a permanent soft smile, baked her bread huge!  She raised six boys and six girls who waited by the oven for the fresh bread she baked daily.  Her technique for
tending the loaves was to apply a thin coat of lard to the tops of the loaves just before she took them out of the oven.  That made for a nice, thick browned top, a softer crust than Dad's mother made.  I can see her now taking the bread out of the oven by grasping the hot bread-pan with nothing more than a part of her apron folded over to protect her hand, her face glowing warm like the bread.

I could not imagine one of her loaves fitting into a Wonder Bread wrapper. Way too big.  The wrappers  which contained the industrial bread were white with big letters announcing WONDER BREAD.  With no individuality to each loaf, Wonder Bread made them all the same size, medium.

Both breads, branded by different women from different backgrounds were wonderful to eat while still warm. I miss the bread, I miss both grandmothers, too. The bread they baked served not only my physical hunger but some deeper hunger served by women who knew how to bake bread with love.

Wonder Bread died today, Nov. 21, 2012 when it's owners declared bankruptcy.  Their bread was alright, I suppose, but it served only half my hunger. To this day, I can't eat a slice of white industrial bread. Instead, I try to find some home bakery bread to remind me of what real bread tastes like.

 

Republicans: Blind and Deaf

One thing has become crystal clear in the post presidential election discussion: Republicans can't seem to get it into their elephantine heads that the U.S. has changed racially and ethnically in its composition.

Instead of embracing Americans of all hues, Republicans (and many Democrats) are still blind to what is happening in this country. America has always been a country that accepted immigrants of many cultures, of many languages.  In the last quarter of a century it is Hispanic American and Asian American populations which have grown in size and in importance. They are talking, Republican leaders aren't listening. Or, are they profoundly deaf?

President Obama is an African-American. What you see is what you get.  People of color identify with him.

 I don't know what Mitt Romney could have done to attract non-whites to his message. Perhaps, he could have learned a few words in Spanish and tossed them out now and then during his campaign. At least Romney could have publicly eaten an enchilada or two.

The day after the election, gun stocks went through the ceiling because, of course, now that Romney is out, Obama will probably try to ban automatic weapons. Then how are real Americans (read white) supposed to defend themselves when "they" come after us?

I look out to the worshipping community on Sundays and I see whites sitting next to hispanics. My altar servers are oriental, and the ushers are of many colors. We get along. Republican office holders should take a cue from the Catholic Church. Integration is one of the things we do well.

We need American leaders who will re-teach us that this country is open to everyone who wants to contribute to our culture, to everyone who wants to love this country, regardless of color. It's going to be a hard sell but it falls on Republicans to get their heads out of the sand and do it.

(I took this photo of a child in Mali two years ago. I wonder how he got the tee-shirt.)

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American Catholics, Sandy and Emergency Response

Why isn't there a National Catholic Relief Services Agency sponsored by the National Catholic Conference of Bishops?

 The American Catholic Church can't seem to get its charitable arms around the people who are suffering the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy.  While the international arm of the American Catholic Church is already using recent donations for Cuban and Haitian relief efforts after hurricane Sandy through its website, www.crs.org, there is no Catholic national site to receive donations for this American tragedy.

The national office of Catholic Charities which represents agencies tasked with assisting needy people within dioceses, does not at this point accept on-line donations to help those on the east coast who need food, fresh water, housing, clothing and other forms of assistance. To its credit,  the national office of the Knights of Columbus has opened a donation tab on its web site specifically for aid to Sandy's victims. You can donate there.

Someday soon the American Catholic Church ought to start a national office of relief to collect donations and respond in a hurry when floods, hurricanes, fires and other disasters occur in our country.

Some dioceses, including New York and Boston are having special collections for the victims of Hurricane Sandy on the first weekend in November. Donations can be sent through their web sites.
 

Barach Obama, Chicago, and the Personal Touch.

I was raised in a neighborhood on the northwest side of Chicago where a cement curb outside our house still bears the words, “Fixed for Bob and Sharon’s wedding.”  That repair was made forty years ago. My mother had warned the precinct captain that if the broken curb were not fixed by the date of my sister’s wedding, she was going to vote Republican in the next election…she voted Democratic.

Well, these days only one of us five siblings still lives in Chicago but Illinois politics has a long outreach in the state. Another sister, Carol, recently told me this story:

 One morning about five year’s ago , Carol, who is legally blind, noticed a figure coming up to her house in downstate Illinois  “I thought it was someone from one of those religious groups  who try to get you to go to their church,” she said. "When the door-bell rang, I almost didn’t  answer it."

“I opened the door and there was an African-American guy with a big smile, a nice suit and a clipboard." That much she could make out.

“Hi! I’m Barach Obama and I’m running for president of the Unites States," he said. "But I need lots of signatures to get me on the ballot.  Would you sign for me?”

She had never heard of him. “ O.K.  I’d be glad to sign. But you’ll have to point to where I should sign.  I have low vision,” she said. 

"He showed me the place and I signed.  He thanked me and gave another nice smile and left.  I didn’t know who he was at the time," she said.

She  likes to tell this story of the time she signed her autograph for a future president.

I’m not sure Carol will vote for Barach Obama in this election and I am not sure she ever voted for him. But Chicagoans are used to a  kind of politics that works because it is personal.

In Chicago, you can actually meet candidates and they listen to what you say. Obama learned Chicago politics and applied it to his campaign.