2006atest

2006a (2006)(2005)(2005a)(2005b)(2007)(2000-2010) Table of Contents

Sources

Marvin Rand Irving J. Gill: Architect 1870-1936, Gibbs Smith, Publisher: Salt Lake City, UT, Design, Ahde Lahti; Photographs, Marvin Rand, 2006, 238 pp., 2006a, 1960, 1936, 1916, 1870 See Text

Vivian Rankin-Scales suggested: Walter Mosley Cinnamon Kiss, Warner Books: NY, 2005. (2005b) 313 pp., 1966, 2006a, Text

Ruth Seymour* Philosophers, Fiddlers and Fools: A Farewell 15 December 2006 KCRW.com See Text

Glenn Sundby Venice, California "Muscle Beach" Hall of Fame Induction of Glenn M. Sundby 29 May, 2006, 2006a, See Text, Images, Program

Verdi Woodward Hope to Die: a memoir of jazz and justice, Schaffner Press, Inc.: Tucson, AZ, 2006, 338 pp., 2006a, 1940 , See Text

Documents:

Marvin Rand Irving J. Gill: Architect 1870-1936, Gibbs Smith, Publisher: Salt Lake City, UT, Design, Ahde Lahti; Photographs, Marvin Rand, 2006, 238 pp.

Dedicated to the memory of Esther McCoy.
p. 11 Irving J. Gill Excerpts from The New Architecture of the West, The Craftsman Magazine, May 1916
"Architecture, Victor Hugo says, is the great book of the world, the principal expression of man in his different stages of development, the chief register of humanity. Every religious symbol, every human thought has its page and its monument in that immense book. Down to the time of Gutenberg, he points out, architecture was the principal, the universal writing. Whoever was born a poet then, became an architect. All arts obeyed and placed themselves under the discipline of architecture. They were the workmen of the great work. There was nothing which, in order to make something of itself, was not forced to frame itself in the shape of architectural hymn or prose. He has shown us that the great products of architecture are less the works of individuals than of society, rather the offspring of a nation's effort than the inspired flash of a man of genius, the deposit left by a whole people, the heaps accumulated by centuries. the residue of successive evaporations of human society, in a word, a species of formation. Each wave of time contributes its alluvium, each race deposits its layer on the monument, each individual brings his stone.
"No architect can read his inspired analysis of the place and the importance of architecture in preserving the records of the world's thought and action, without approaching his own part in the human record with a greater reverence and greater sense of responsibility. What rough or quarried stone will each of us contribute to the universal edifice, what idle or significant sentence will we write with brick and stone, wood, steel and concrete upon the sensitive page of the earth? In California we have great wide plains, arched by blue skies that are fresh chapters as yet unwritten. We have noble mountains, lovely little hills and canyons waiting to hold the record of this generation's history, ideals, imagination, a sense of romance and honesty. What monument will we build, erect to the honor or shame of our age?
"The West has an opportunity unparalleled in the history of the world. for it is the newest white page turned for registration. The present builders have the advantage of all the wisdom and experience of the ages to aid them in poetically inscribing today's milestone in the progress of humanity. The West, unfortunately, has been and is building too hastily, carelessly and thoughtlessly. Houses are springing up faster than mushrooms, for mushrooms silently prepare for a year and more before they finally raise their house above the ground in proof of what they have been designing so long and secretly. People pour out here as on the crest of a flood and remain where chance deposits them when the rush of wasters subside. building temporary shacks wherein they live for a brief period while looking about for more permanent anchorage. The surface of the ground is barely scraped away, in some cases but a few inches deep, just enough to allow builders to find a level. and a house is tossed together with little thought of beauty, and no thought of permanance, haste being the chief characteristic.
"If we, the architects of the West, wish to do great and lasting work we must dare to be simple, we must have the courage to fling aside every device that distracts the eye from structural beauty, must break through convention and get down to fundamental truths. Through force of custom and education we, in whose hands much of the beauty of country and city is entrusted, have been compelled to study the style of other men, with the result that most of our modern work is an open imitation or veiled plagiarism of another's idea. To break away from this degradation we must boldly throw aside every accepted structural belief and standard of beauty and get back to the source of all architectural strength-and drink from these fountains of Art that gave life to the great men of old.
"Every artist must sooner or later reckon directly, personally with these four principles-the mightiest of lines. The straight line borrowed from the horizon is a symbol of greatness, grandeur and nobility; the arch patterned from the dome of the sky represents exultation, reverence, aspiration; the circle is the sign of completeness, motion and progression, as may be seen when a stone touches water; the square is the symbol of power, justice, honesty and firmness. These are the bases, the units of architectural language, and without them there can be no direct or inspired architectural speech. We must not weaken our message of beauty and strength by the stutter and mumble of useless ornaments.
. . . "Ornaments tend to cheapen rather than enrich, they acknowledge inefficiency and weakness. A house cluttered up by complex ornament means that the designer was aware that his work lacked purity of line and perfection of proportion, so he endeavored to cover its imperfection by adding on detail, hoping thus to distract the attention of the obsrver from the fundamental weakness of his design. If we omit everything useless from the structural point of view we will come to see the great beauty of straight lines, to see the charm that lies in perspective, the force in light and shade, the power in balanced masses, the fascination of color that plays upon a smooth wall left free to report the passing of a cloud or nearness of a flower, the furious rush of storms and the burning stillness of summer suns. We would also see the glaring defects of our own work if left in this bold. unornamented fashion, and therefore could swiftly correct it.
p. 12 "I believe if we continually think more of line, proportion, light and shade we will reach greater skill in handling them, and a greater appreciation and understanding of their power and beauty. We should build our house simple, plain and substantial as a boulder; then leave the ornamentation of it to Nature, who will tone it with lichens, chisel it with storms, make it gracious and friendly with vines and flower shadows as she does the stone in the meadow . . .
"There is something very restful and satisfying to my mind in the simple cube house with creamy walls, shear and plain, rising boldly into the sky, unrelieved by cornices or overhanging of roof, unornamented save for the vines that soften a line or creepers that wreathe a pillar or flowers that inlay color more sentiently than any tile could do. I like the bare honesty of these houses, the childlike frankness and chaste simplicity of them. It seemed too peculiar an innovation at first to make a house without a large overhanging roof, for we have been so accustomed in California to think them a necessity, but now that the first shock is over people welcome the simplicity of the houses without these heavy overhangs and see that they really have distinction.
"In the West, home building has followed, in the main, two distinct lines-the Spanish Mission and the India bungalow. True, we find many small Swiss chalets clinging perilously to canyon walls, imposing Italian villas facing the sea and myriad nameless creations whose chief distinction lies in the obvious fact that they are original. different from any known type of architecture. It were much better for California if there were less complicated, meaningless originality and more frank following of established good types.
"Because of the intense blue of sky and sea that continues for such long, unbroken periods, the amethyst distant mountains that form an almost universal background for houses or cities, the golden brown of summer fields, the varied green of pepper, eucalyptus and poplar trees that cut across it in such decorative forms and the profusion of gay flowers that grow so quickly and easily, house of a light romantic picturesqueness are perfectly suitable that would seem too dramatic in other parts of the country. They seem a pleasing part of the orange-belted flower fields and belong to the semi-tropical land. These same houses would certainly look artificial and amusingly uncomfortable and out of place in the East; but they essentially belong to the land of sunshine.
"The contour, coloring and history of a country naturally influence its architecture. The old wooden Colonial house of the East, shaded by noble elms, with their attendant lanes and roads outlined by stone walls, perfect pictures of home beauty; the stone houses of Pennsylvania, charming of color, stately, eloquent of substantial affluence and generous hospitality, and the adobe houses of the Arizona Indians formed of the earth into structures so like the surrounding ledges and buttes in shape that they can scarcely be told from them, triumphs of protective, harmonious building, are familiar types of buildings characteristic of their locality . . .
"The arch is one of our most imposing, most picturesque and graceful architectural features. Its power of creating beauty is unquestionable, but like any other great force, wrongly used, is equally destructive. Fire warms and cheers us and cooks our food, but if not carefully handled destroys everything it touches.The Missions have taught us also the beauty and usefulness of the court. Ramona's house, a landmark as familiar in the South as some of the Missions, was built around three sides of an open space, the other side being a high garden wall. This home plan gave privacy, protection and beauty. The court contains a pool and well in the center and an arbor for grapes along the garden wall; the archway that runs along the three sides formed by the house made the open-air living rooms. Here were arranged couches for sleeping, hammocks for the siesta, easy chairs and tables for dining. There was always a sheltered and a sunny side, always seclusion and an outlook into the garden. In California we have liberally borrowed this home plan, for it is hard to devise a better, cozier, more convenient or practical scheme for a home. In the seclusion of the outdoor living rooms and in their nearness to the garden, the arrangement is ideal."
. . .
Marvin Rand Text
p. 158 "A combination of factors converged at the same time to influence Gill's work in architecture. These issues changed the focus in San Diego from that of preserving an idealistic small town to promoting economic development.
"The Panama-California Exposition planned to bring real estate development to San Diego and also to coincide with the opening of the Panama Canal in 1915. However, the great flood that occurred in 1916 created water problems due to the destruction of dams and water systems. Roads and railroad tracks were washed out, so rebuilding became a priority. World War I was under way in Europe and created circumstances for the expansion of the military; navy, marine and air bases were developed in the San Diego area, changing the social climate of the city.
"The architectural style of the Panama-California Exposition became fashionable. Gill's simplicity was no longer in favor in San Diego. However, he had built projects in Los Angeles as early as 1910. He was consumed with planning the town of Torrance in 1913 and part of 1914. In 1916 he moved to Los Angeles, where he experimented with different ways of using materials.
"With this new information, in 1919 Gill built the Horatio West Court in Ocean Park half a block from the ocean; two duplexes-one in Coronado and one in Pasadena; the Clark House in Santa Fe Springs; and the Church of the Sacred Heart in Coronado.
"Until 1927, his work in the Los Angeles area consisted of small residential projects. In 1927, he was commissioned to build the First Church of Christ, Scientist for Coronado, and the next year he began a series of projects for the new city of Oceanside: the Fire and Police Station, Americanization School, high school, kindergarten and, finally, in 1934, the Oceanside City Hall.
"In 1932, the federal government commissioned him to design a church and a number of small house at the Rancho Barona Indian Reservation northeast of San Diego, where he lived while supervising construction.
"His projects were varied-worker housing, estates for the wealthy. city planning, public buildings and fountains-but his architectural concerns remained the same: innovation in methods and materials and clear, simple aesthetics."
Pp. 162-165 Photographs: Horatio West Court, Santa Monica, 1919

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Vivian Rankin-Scales suggested: Walter Mosley Cinnamon Kiss, Warner Books: NY, 2005. 313pp., 1966, 2006a

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Ruth Seymour* Philosophers, Fiddlers and Fools: A Farewell KCRW.com

Philosophers, Fiddlers and Fools: A Farewell
FRI DEC 15, 2006
Here's how it began. Go back to a grey afternoon in December. It's 1978. KCRW is located in the playground of a junior high school, across the street from Santa Monica College. When you open the door, you're immediately inside the station's only broadcast studio.
We have the oldest radio transmitter west of the Mississippi. Our equipment is old, too; it's in constant need of repair. Our office is a narrow one-room jumble of scarred school desks.
We are building a new kind of radio station and trying different kinds of ideas. We are full of dreams and plans and hope.
We are fearless. After all, we have little to lose.
The notion of presenting a 3-hour program celebrating "Yiddishkeit" and anchoring it to the secular holiday of Chanukah didn't seem very promising, even to me. But I wanted to do it anyway. I assumed that it would be a one-time event. In fact, I didn't do much planning. I counted on being inspired as I went along.
It wasn't difficult to get material in those days. There were several sources in town that carried Yiddish records and tapes. I could call upon a childhood of studying Yiddish, reading wonderful writers who created a world of small villages, of peddlers, matchmakers and holy fools.

My parents had come from different parts of Eastern Europe, before they were 20. They met at New York's New School for Social Research, which offered college-level courses to new immigrants. They read American literature and history; they went to lectures and concerts. They attended school at night; by day they worked with their hands. They were part of a dynamic working class. Their friends engaged in lively political debates around our kitchen table.
They were my link to the world of Yiddishkeit, a world that was being destroyed as I was growing up.
I wanted to do this program as an act of love and respect, an homage to a culture and its people&emdash;my people&emdash;to their indomitable spirit, their irrepressible humor and inventiveness, their capacity for wonder, endurance and faith.
We began the broadcast at noon. I spoke in Yiddish and translated into English. I played music and tapes of stories by Isaac Babel and Isaac Bashevis Singer.
As the afternoon wore on and the day grew darker, the phones stayed silent. In the hours that passed, not one phone call came in. I assumed&emdash;all of us there, that day, assumed&emdash; that we had lost the audience.
Oh well, I thought, it was only an experiment. Next year, we'll do something else.
The program ended and All Things Considered came on the air. The phones began to ring. And ring. And ring. They rang for hours.

People waited until a line was free, just to say "thank you." Some were crying; others wanted to tell their own story; each call was emotional. We were a handful of individuals, in a little bungalow inside a deserted schoolyard, stunned and overwhelmed by the response to the program.
In the years that followed, the show kept its original format and its original vision. I went from long-playing records and tapes to CDs to digital versions. Many of the best recordings went out of print; most of the record stores closed their doors. This year Hatikvah Records, the last remaining stronghold on Fairfax Avenue, fell victim to the gentrification of the neighborhood.
There is a moment when you know that it's time to close up shop. This is the last year of Philosophers, Fiddlers and Fools. The Internet has meant that the program is no longer ephemeral, as originally intended. It exists online and is available on our website.
This last program is dedicated to the late French writer, Andre Schwarz-Bart, who died on September 30th at the age of 78. His masterpiece The Last of the Just embodies the spirit that inspired the program. I always read from its closing pages in the memorial segment.
Schwarz-Bart wrote the novel as a young man, an unlikely survivor of the Holocaust. He wrote it in winter, in the Paris central library, because his small room had no heat. It won the Prix Goncourt, France's Pulitzer Prize, when it came out in 1959. It is a book that bears witness to the unbearable.
Ever since that first broadcast, I've presented Philosophers, Fiddlers and Fools live, on a Friday afternoon during Chanukah. It's had a spectacular run &endash; 28 years on the air!

Each year I've searched for new stories, songs and singers, to re-invent and refresh the program. This year I won't look for new material. Instead I'll choose old favorites from a now extensive collection of Yiddish folk music. We'll hear again Singer's own marvelous reading of his comic story A Friend of Kafka's. We'll present, one last time, our 2nd Avenue "Hit Parade," playing music that came out of the boisterous Lower East Side and made it to Tin Pan Alley.
I want this final edition to be a celebration of all the years in which the program became an important touchstone for so many listeners from different backgrounds and cultures.
I want to celebrate those of you who have followed it over time because it reminded you of a grandparent, of a lost home and family, of a language you hardly knew you knew.
Please join me for this final edition of Philosophers, Fiddlers and Fools. Thank you for the opportunity to present it for so many years. It's not just been a privilege; it's been a joy.
-Ruth Seymour General Manager
The final edition of Philosophers, Fiddlers and Fools airs Friday, December 15, from Noon to 3 pm, hosted by Ruth Seymour.
Host
Ruth Seymour*
Ruth Seymour* has been the General Manager of KCRW since 1978. Each year at Hannukah she hosts her signature Yiddish music program, Philosophers, Fiddlers and Fools. She is also a sometime host of The Poltics of Culture.
Air Date On Air / KCRWLive: Dec 15 2006, 12:00-3:00P
Tapes & transcripts are not available.
© 2006 KCRW All Rights Reserved

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Glenn Sundby Venice, California "Muscle Beach" Hall of Fame Induction of Glenn M. Sundby 29 May, 2006, 2006a

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Ode to Muscle Beach

Just a speck on the sands of history, a little flower born in the years of the depression,: that blossomed for a brief time.
It played a part in many a life, both great and small. But like a soldier in battle was: cut down before its time.
We can remember well this Camelot of our youth, the joy of innocence past that: molded many a life.
They came from across the nation and worldly places, from '34 to '59 to see and: partake of this oasis,
To an acre of sand on the ocean Pacific, and to their life a memory terrific.
There was Pudgy, Les & Bruce with balance & grace . . . the every ready Moe to build a pyramid base . . . super Reha & brother Paul . . . Johnny Collins, Kornoff, Robinson & Cook . . . of Starkey, Jimmy & Kay, you took a good look . . . Bros. Ratner & Ferrar were up to par . . . with Tesloff & Taylor adagio on ice . . . Louie & Carol Lee also did nice . . . Eddie & Justus, a balance delight . . . the Fergis family 5 did it all right . . . Thompson & Hill flipped and twisted like monkeys in a tree . . . and Wayne, Whitey & Dolores were three . . . Howie & Lyle were also there . . . and Babe & Lucille were a juggling pair . . . sisters Roselie & Paula & Betsey & Kitty were tossed around . . . and the Saunders Russ, Ray & Audry were upward bound . . . there was Zinkin the strong with little DeWayne . . . and who can forget Marcy & Jack LaLanne . . . bodybuilding brothers Armand & Vic, plus Eiferman & Reeves on hand with a flair . . . with Waterfield & Russel it was a beautiful pair . . . Wally & Dodie were part of the gang . . . as were Pattys Taylor, O'Keefe, McCormick & Tanny . . . with Betty & Evelyn named Smith as strong as could be . . . and Renald & Rudy, Marco's & the Glenn's were something to see . . . Walt the baker was great on the bars . . . and Janos the Chimp was one of the stars . . . Little Lynwood, Bill & Billy, the Knox Trio-two boys & a girl-the Hardys-Chuck & daughters 3-a great show and all for free . . . we can't forget Franke, Rex, Larry, Al, Jack, Bob, Vince, Vern, Freddie, Don, Gil who were all a part . . . and Hollingsworth and Timmy who were there from the start . . . and the Baron gave out the awards to the beauties on hand and Beverly, Mim, Barbara and McCulla were far from bland . . . there was Barney and Cecil with eye to the camera and so many more we can't remember . . . the Hollywood actors, the Circus greats, Vaudeville pros all took part in the tumbling, tossing and balancing to develop new skills . . . from lads to seniors it was always a big thrill . . . the moms and dads along with the friends that sat with the cheering crowds all were a part, especially Mrs. Williams, bless her big heart.
A happy handstand, a flip in the air, a swing on the rings, a fly over the bars . . . the beauty and brawn . . . the memory will always be ours.
In time the sea may wash it all away, for nothing is ever here to stay;: But to lives that were changed as for new goals they did reach,
"There will always be a Muscle Beach."

From Muscle Beach Alumni Association Newletter (MBAA Newsletter), no. 1, v. 1

Ode to Muscle Beach (Including more of the names, thanks to Larry Mace, 2006)

Just a speck on the sands of history, a little flower born in the years of the depression,
that blossomed for a brief time.
It played a part in many a life, both great and small. But like a soldier in battle was
cut down before its time.
We can remember well this Camelot of our youth, the joy of innocence past that
molded many a life.
They came from across the nation and worldly places, from '34 to '59 to see and
partake of this oasis,
To an acre of sand on the ocean Pacific, and to their life a memory terrific.

There was Pudgy (Stockton), Les (Stockton) & Bruce (Conner) with balance & grace . . . the every ready Moe (Most) to build a pyramid base . . . super Reha & brother Paul . . . Johnny Collins, Kornoff, (Johnny) Robinson & (Johnny) Cook . . . of Starkey, Jimmy (Starkey) & Kay (Starkey), you took a good look . . . Bros. (Eliot, Irving) Ratner & Ferrar were up to par . . . with Tesloff & Taylor adagio on ice . . . Louie & Carol Lee also did nice . . . Eddie (Motter) & Justus (Motter), a balance delight . . . the Fergis family 5 (Father: Ron, Mother: Alice, Son: Daryl, Daughter: Carol) did it all right . . . Thompson & Hill flipped and twisted like monkeys in a tree . . . and Wayne (Long), Whitey ( Glen Sundby) & Dolores (Sundby) were three . . . Howie & Lyle were also there . . . and Babe (Westerlund) & Lucille (Westerlund) were a juggling pair . . . sisters Roselie (Boelsems) & Paula (Boelsems) & Betsey (Boelsems) & Kitty (Boelsems) were tossed around . . . and the Saunders Russ (Saunders), Ray (Saunders) & Audry (Saunders) were upward bound . . . there was (Harold) Zinkin the strong with little DeWayne (Zinkin) . . . and who can forget Marcy (LaLanne) & Jack LaLanne . . . bodybuilding brothers Armand (Tanny) & Vic (Tanny), plus (George) Eiferman & (Steve) Reeves on hand with a flair . . . with Waterfield & Russel it was a beautiful pair . . . Wally & Dodie were part of the gang . . . as were Pattys (Patty)Taylor, (Patty) O'Keefe, (Patty) McCormick & (Patty) Tanny . . . with Betty (Smith) & Evelyn (Smith) named Smith as strong as could be . . . and Renald & Rudy, Marco's & the Glenn's were something to see . . . Walt the baker was great on the bars . . . and Janos the Chimp was one of the stars . . . Little Lynwood, Bill & Billy, the Knox Trio-two boys & a girl-the Hardys-Chuck (Hardy) & daughters 3-a great show and all for free . . . we can't forget Franke Vincent), Rex (Waggoner), Larry (Mace), (Stan Turner) Al, Jack, Bob (Gordon), Vince (Bonofelio), Vern, Freddie (Kimble), Don, Gil who were all a part . . . and Hollingsworth and Timmy who were there from the start . . . and the Baron (Leone) gave out the awards to the beauties on hand and Beverly (Jochner), Mim (Sharlock), Barbara and McCulla were far from bland . . . there was Barney (Fry) and Cecil with eye to the camera and so many more we can't remember . . . the Hollywood actors, the Circus greats, Vaudeville pros all took part in the tumbling, tossing and balancing to develop new skills . . . from lads to seniors it was always a big thrill . . . the moms and dads along with the friends that sat with the cheering crowds all were a part, especially Mrs. Williams, bless her big heart.

A happy handstand, a flip in the air, a swing on the rings, a fly over the bars . . . the beauty and brawn . . . the memory will always be ours.

In time the sea may wash it all away, for nothing is ever here to stay;
But to lives that were changed as for new goals they did reach,
"There will always be a Muscle Beach."

(Back to Sources)

Verdi Woodward Hope to Die: a memoir of jazz and justice, Schaffner Press, Inc.: Tucson, AZ, 2006, 338 pp., 2006a, 1940

The prologue to the book is set on the 1940 Santa Monica Pier, and sets the mood and maybe the motivation for the protagonist's life, in this confrontation of a young serviceman and a teenabe black man.

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