"Giocometti in the Temple of Dendur" at the Met

People in the art world sometimes talk about works of art being "in conversation." While it's a phrase that might make you roll your eyes, it's the perfect way to describe the exhibit "Giocometti in the Temple of Dendur" at the Met. I can imagine the sculptures coming alive after closing and wandering the Temple a la Ben Stiller's "Night at the Museum." But it's the contrasting textures of the stone of the Temple and the stone of Giocometti's sculptures that make the phrase most apt for me in the artistic sense. It's a special exhibit. 

I have a vague recollection of visiting the Temple of Dendur on a summer associate outing circa 1985. It hasn't changed, although my appreciation of it has. The Temple dates back to circa 10 BCE and lived on the Nile River in Lower Nubia, an area between Egypt and the Sudan. It was built during the reign of Emperor Augustus after Rome conquered Egypt. The carvings on the sandstone blocks tell stories, many of which depict Augustus as a pharoah. I have thoughts about that, but they're beyond the scope of this post. As a true aside, did you know the month of August was named after the Emperor? 

You might wonder how the Temple ended up in New York City, a far cry from its original site by the Nile. When Egypt decided to build the Aswan Dam, the Temple had to be moved or it would have been submerged. It was given to the United States in 1965 as thanks for our financial and technical contributions to UNESCO's International Campaign to Save the Monuments of Nubia. 

The Met won the right to house the Temple after a competitive bidding process. The kicker was the institution's promise to build a climate controlled wing that would preserve the sandstone structure. The room is stunning, with vast windows that bring the outside into the space. The Temple opened to the public in its new home in 1978. 

This brings us to the question of how Giocometti's sculptures ended up living on the Temple's grounds, so to speak. Giocometti was fascinated with Egyptian art from a young age, and he could often be found wandering the Egyptian wing of the Louvre. He particularly liked the upright figures of Egyptian pharoahs, which he found full of life and power. They always feel a bit intimidating to me, with their erect postures and static gazes. Writing this, my mind flashed to the guards at Buckingham Palace and kids jumping up and down to make them flinch, to no avail. But I digress. 

Giocometti's earliest walking man sculpture was "Walking Man I" (also known as "Walking Man Leaning Forward.") The work is associated with the quest for human survival despite the trauma of war. The artist had escaped Paris for Geneva during WWII and was overwhelmed when he returned by the devastation the War had wrought. There was physical destruction, of course, but Giocometti was also attuned to the emotional impact of the War on the citizens of his adopted country. The rough texture of his sculpture's surfaces represent the psychological scarring carried by survivors, so the fact that they're somewhat unsettling is apt. 

Giocometti's sculptures are also associated with Existentialism, the basic idea of which is that each individual is responsible for the path her life takes. "One must imagine Sisyphus happy," said Albert Camus. It seems appropriate to envision Sisyphys rolling his stone up the hill in a continuing loop while thinking about how incredibly difficult it was to construct the Temple of Dendur. Happily, the stones of the Temple of Dendur have stayed in place all these centuries. 

I'll leave you with a hieroglyphic from one of the Temple's 661 Nubian sandstone blocks. It's truly amazing that the images -- sacred carvings to the Egyptians -- have survived, especially because the blocks are not glazed. If my calculations are correct, each block weighs close to 2,000 pounds. Nobody was going to make off with one of them in the middle of the night. 

This image depicts Hathor and Harendotes receiving wine from Pharoah Augustus, whom I seem to have cut out of the image. Oops! For more on the carvings, click here. 

If this post has piqued your interest in the history of the Temple of Dendur, click here for a short video. And click here to see some fabulous images of Giocometti in his tiny Parisian studio. They're quite a contrast to the expansive space where his sculptures are on display at the Met.

"Giocometti in the Temple of Dendur" runs through September 8th. It's a must see exhibit if you're in New York. 

"Botero in New York" at Sotheby's

"Woman in the Bathroom" (2002)

I distinctly remember the first time I saw a painting by Fernando Botero. I was going to a lecture at Artis-Naples, and the corridors surrounding the theater were filled with works by the Colombian artist. I didn't know quite what to make of them. The people portrayed were so engaging -- and so rotund, to put it politely. 

I now know that Botero viewed his characters as sensuous rather than, well, fat. His figures claim the space around them. Everything in his art is supersized, not just the humans. It gives his work an exuberance that always makes me smile. 

   

When I learned that Sotheby's would be home to a Botero exhibit during my visit to New York, the show was added to my list of "must see art." I wasn't sure what to expect at the venue, though. Would it be a regular exhibit, or would salespeople hover around visitors in hopes of a sale? Did I need to wear my pearls? Happily, it was a straight up exhibit -- with some buying opportunities if you have very deep pockets. Organized in collaboration with The Botero Foundation, there are 25 paintings on display. What a treat of a show.

Botero didn't come out of the womb with a desire to be a professional artist. Instead, he wanted to be a matador. He even went to school for two years to learn the art of bullfighting.Yikes! Eventually, young Fernando realized it was safer to make paintings of bulls than to fight them. (Digression: I was going to say "paint" bulls, but that conjured up images of him running after a bull with paintbrush in hand.) The exhibit didn't include any of those works, but you can see some of those images by clicking here. The matador is approximately the same size as the bull in the first image -- lol. 

"Cardenal (Nino de Guevara)" (1964) 

Botero was drawn to depicting the human form from an early age. In fact, when he was in Catholic school, young Fernando could often be found in the principal's office for painting nudes. He eventually was expelled, with the final straw being his submission of a paper entitled "Pablo Picasso and Nonconformity in Art." I'm sure you can see how dangerous exposure to the ideas in such a report could have been for young minds. 

Still, Botero's early style wasn't particularly different from that of his peers. His artistic perspective expanded after a trip to Europe when he was 20 years old. During his travels, he took in the work of artists like Velasquez, Goya and, most importantly, Rubens. You've probably heard a woman with a fullsome body being referred to as "Rubenesque." That term comes from Rubens' depiction of women who did not spend much time at the gym. Botero was drawn to the volume of these figures and began pumping up his characters and their surroundings alike. Now he had his own style, but it was one the art world did not immediately laud.  

"Monalisa" (1959)

Abstract expressionism was the style du jour. Think Pollock's spatter and drip technigues, Rothko's color field paintings or Francis Bacon's visceral work. Botero could have been painting in an entirely different universe. Still, he pushed the boundaries of figurative work, and his work began to garner attention. 

In 1963, MOMA included Botero's "Mona Lisa, Age 12" in a show featuring recent acquisitions. The style was very different than his later work, with visible drawing marks on the faces of the figures. The exhibit included a number of these works, which can be seen in the link below. I do not like them, but it was interesting to see how his art evolved.

Instead, I preferred this version of "Monalisa," with the woman poised (once she gets up) to make her own attempt at creating a work of art. But I digress, sort of. The big deal is that Botero's "Mona Lisa, Age 12" was on view at MOMA at the same time THE "Mona Lisa" by da Vinci was on display at the Met. What a contrast! The reports make it sound like the New York art world kind of lost its mind. For a dive into all of Botero's takes on "Mona Lisa," click here. And to see more of Botero's versions of famous artwork, click here. 

Detail from "Los Ricos" (1967)

Last up is this adorable puppy that sits in the corner of Botero's "Los Ricos." The puffball on the top of his head is a nice touch, but it's his little tongue sticking out at the viewer that I like the most. The work is "immediately available for purchase." In case you want to see the entire painting before making a decision about an offer, click here. 

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that Botero also created sculptures with figures as fullsome as those in his paintings. The exhibit included only one such work -- "Leda and the Swan." I much preferred the pair of sculptures I came upon at a stop at the Wichita State sculpture garden. (Don't ask.) Click here and scroll down to see them. You are truly a scrooge if they don't make you smile. 

"Botero" in New York continues through September 7th and is definitely worth seeing if you're in the area. Click here for more information. 

Next up: "Giocometti in the Temple of Dendur" at the Met. 

"Visual Voices: Public Art in the Sunshine State" at the St. Pete Museum of History

George Snow Hill Coast Guard
mural (1938)

The St. Pete Museum of History is now home to "Visual Voices: Public Art in the Sunshine State." It's a terrific exhibit that showcases St. Pete's long history of promoting public art. Even before the Depression and the creation of the WPA, artwork could be found in City Hall and other public spaces. But with the advent of WPA funding, more public art popped up across the city. Quite often, these works were created by George Snow Hill. 

Hill's resume includes representing the United States in the International Exhibit at the 1932 Summer Olympics. Let me digress here for a moment because my mind is kind of blown. Painting -- along with architecture, literature, music and sculpture -- were Olympic events from 1912-1948. The tie-in was that the work had to be inspired by some kind of athletic endeavor. The "Pentathlon of the Muses" was discontinued in large part because too many professional artists were participating. Um, couldn't there have just been a rule about this? For more on this slice of Olympic history, click here. Now back to St. Pete. 

The exhibit highlighted two of Hill's murals that became controversial long after they were created. The painting shown here was commissioned in 1938 for the Coast Guard Station in St. Pete. It was the companion mural (not included in the exhibit) that caused a stir four decades later because it showed a mermaid's breast. Was this something the sailors should be looking at while eating their meals? Would the men become titillated to the point they couldn't execute their jobs? Would the women be offended at this display of the human body? 

Experts were summoned to weigh in on the issue, including conservator C. Theodore Nightwine. As Nightwine aptly pointed out, "These are historic presentations and may only be viewed as offensive by those persons with no understanding of art history. If we are to ban the nude figure in art, we will have to go all the way back to the ancient Greeks." Both murals are still on view in City Hall today.

Another of Hill's works was even more controversial. "Picknicking at Pass-A-Grill" -- a portion of which is shown here -- hung for more than two decades in a prominent location in St. Pete's City Hall. During that time, the local branch of SNCC (the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee) made multiple requests that the artwork be removed on the basis that its representation of African-Americans was stereotypic and demeaning. These requests went unheeded. 

In 1966, a small group of men took the matter into their own hands, storming City Hall and tearing the painting down. The individual who physically removed the mural was arrested and went to jail for two years. That seems a bit extreme, but I guess the actions did constitute destruction of government property. And, well, racism. The wall was left empty for decades because the City couldn't decide on replacement artwork. Today a plaque can be found on the wall that explains the controversy. To see the offending work in its entirety, click here. 

"Jubilation" by Rose Bilal (1994)

Fast forward to 1994 and some less controversial artwork. That was the year St. Pete commissioned its first of seven murals for its Business Retention Target Area. The idea was that the artwork would both draw customers to the businesses in the area and create a more attractive environment for employees. One of those murals -- the only one no longer in existence -- was "Jubilation" by Rose Bilal. At least the work is being seen by visitors to the exhibit. I like it. 

This relatively small mural initiative paved the way for the St. Pete SHINE Festival. In 2012, artists Tes One, the Vitale Brothers and Chris "Palehorse" Parks created a large scale mural entitled "State Lines." Other artists quickly joined the movement, and murals began popping up on buildings up and down the 600 block of Central Avenue. Clearly a chord had been struck. 

In 2015, the artistic trio organized the first SHINE Festival. The goal of the Festival is to "transform [the] city into a vibrant, living canvas that reflects the soul of [the] community." More than 150 murals have been created since the inception of the Festival. That's a lot of walls! For more info on SHINE, click here. 

I'll leave you with a poster featuring Mr. Sun, a figure you're likely to come across if you spend time in St. Pete. Chad Mize created the poster, but he didn't create the character. Credit for that goes to Jack Swenningsen, who developed Mr. Sun back in the 1940s when he was working for a St. Pete advertising company. Mr. Sun's smiling face was seen on everything from tv ads to license plates to billboards. 

The image was never copyrighted (oops!), so Mize was free to use it for his own artwork. He has done that in a big way. In addition to murals and other artwork around town, Mr. Sun now graces the city's buses. It seems fitting given the bus service's name - SunRunner. For more on Mize and Mr. Sun, click here. Be on the lookout for the character the next time you're in St. Pete. 

With that, I'll say once again what a treat it was to visit the St. Pete Museum of History. I don't know how often their exhibits change, but I'll definitely return. For more info on the Museum, click here. Let me know if you check it out! 

 

Schrader's Little Coopertown at the St. Pete Museum of History

Oscar took on docent duties for this one.

It wasn't so long ago that I thought baseball was the most boring of sports. But then the pandemic came, and with it my 90 year old father. What to do cooped up during the long summer months except watch baseball? And so my love of the game began. (It helped that the Tampa Bay Rays made it to the World Series that season.)

A recent getaway to St. Pete -- for a run of all things -- included a visit to the St. Pete Museum of History. While the rest of the exhibits were interesting enough, it was Schrader's Little Cooperstown that made the stop worthwhile. There is so much info packed into this small space that you could spend an afternoon there. Of course there were places to go and people to see, so we didn't. But I foresee another visit in my future. 

The exhibit highlights players who made baseball history. I have an affection for Babe Ruth given the connection between his career and the musical "No, No, Nanette." Ruth played for the Red Sox until 1920 when he was traded to the Yankees to raise capital ($100,000!) to finance Sox owner Harry Frazee's investment in the farce "My Lady Friends." The show was adapted into "No, No, Nanette" and then the movie "Tea for Two" in which Doris Day played Nanette. As they say, it had legs. To see a clip, click here. But I digress. 

Ruth of course was a power hitter of the highest degree. He led the League in home runs twelve seasons, with 1927 being his best year. He hit a whopping 60 balls out of the park that season, resulting in his being given the nickname "The Sultan of Swat." This record was not broken until 1961. Wow. His contributions to the Yankees also led to Yankee Stadium, new at the time, often being referred to as "the house that Ruth built." It's quite an homage. 

No exhibit about baseball would be complete without some attention being given to Jackie Robinson, the first Black player in the Major League. He was 28 years old when he first took the field for the Los Angeles Dodgers on April 15, 1947. While I suspect that sounds young to people reading this post, it is old for an MLB rookie. (As an aside, the oldest rookie outside of the Negro Leagues was 35 year old Jim "the Rookie" Morris, who played -- wait for it -- for the Rays back in 1999.) 

Robinson's stats are quite impressive. In his first season he led the National League in stolen bases, hit twelve home runs and was selected as the first ever Rookie of the Year. But that was just the beginning. In his sophomore season, Robinson batted .342 (which is really, really good) and led the National League in stolen bases. He was named National League MVP for that season.

In 1997, Robinsons jersey number -- 42 -- was retired. Except, that is, for the annual Jackie Robinson Day celebration when every player, coach, manager and umpire across the League wears #42. I love it. 

Speaking of love, the exhibit also boasts a baseball signed by Marilyn Monroe to Joe DiMaggio when the couple was dating. It reads "to the greatest baseball player." You might wonder how the couple came to meet given that Marilyn was not a fan of the game. DiMaggio initiated the meeting after he saw a picture of Monroe taken at the White Sox training camp. (With her high heels on, I don't think she was going to make it around the bases, but I suspect DiMaggio had another type of scoring on his mind.) 

Their marriage lasted a mere nine months, reportedly due to DiMaggio's inability to live with the constant media attention that surrounded Marilyn. Still, DiMaggio showed up for Monroe when there was a crisis, whether it was her hospitalization for a nervous breakdown or an emergency gall bladder removal. For two decades after her death, he had fresh roses delivered to her grave twice a week. I'm not sure what to make of that, or the fact that he stopped after 20 years. Enough is enough? And with that, I'll end this post. 

For more on the St. Pete Museum of History, click here. Happy exploring! 

Rock Climbing 101

Geared up and (sort of) ready to go 

You're not alone if you're surprised to learn that I recently went on an outing at a rock climbing facility. It was a blast! But let me back up a little. 

You may have heard me wax eloquent about The Bay. It is a gem in our community. The public park hosts everything from fitness classes and dance lessons to concerts and movies. It was designed to be "one park for all" and achieves its mission daily. But I digress -- sort of. I mention The Bay because it was a friend from an exercise class there who suggested a rock climbing outing at Hexrock Climbing. Nothing ventured...

We arrived at different times so we were oriented by different staff members. Our guy was kind of a "wham, bam, thank you ma'am" sort. "Here's how you put on your gear. Here's how you clip in. Have fun." Um, okay. I was sort of jealous that other people did a practice fall onto the bouncy mat just in case they took a tumble. I'm happy to say that I still don't have that experience. Now on to the climbing. 

Hexrock offers more than 14,000 square feet of climbing surface, with walls that range from 15' to 35' in height. While there are other climbing options, newbies generally stick to the top rope approach, which means you are anchored to a rope at the top of the wall. It's the most straightforward and "easiest" style of climbing, but it was plenty challenging for me. I am not kidding when I say my triceps started squawking the first moment I began pulling myself up. Seriously? 

Almost to the summit! 

Shockingly, the others in our group had a somewhat easier time than I did. Perhaps I should consider adding bootcamp to my workout routine. The mere thought of it makes me want to get a massage and then take a nap. But I digress. 

The difficulty of the climbs is marked so you know what you're about to tackle. The rating isn't based on how high you can climb but on the relative security of the foot and handholds. You can see that the wall I'm climbing here has different options. I found moving up the purple "boulders" sufficiently challenging without stressing me out. I'm confident I would have gotten the chance to test out how cushy the mats were had I tried the green "pebbles." 

Teri also tackled lower walls that you climbed without the benefit of a harness. You know, like in the movie "Free Solo." It might not have been exactly the same experience, but I still give her a lot of credit. She had arrived well before I did, and I could barely lift my arms by the time she was not only climbing this wall but still smiling. Go, girl!   

Climbing was a breeze for Teri

I don't have much more to say about the outing per se, but it did make me wonder how indoor climbing became a thing. Originally, indoor climbing facilities were a means to an end, with the end being a way to stay in shape off season for real rock climbing. The holds were made from rocks or wood to replicate a real climbing experience. As an aside, practice climbers in Los Angeles did things a bit differently. Instead of going to an indoor facility, they glued handholds onto the bottom of highway underpasses and climbed there. There's nothing like the sound of traffic overhead to help you focus. 

It wasn't until the mid-'80s that French climber Francois Savigny realized that you could make the holds out of plastic, put a bolt in the middle of them and move them around on a wall. With that, a sport became a recreational activity. Today more than 700 indoor climbing facilities can be found across the country with a collective market value in excess of $3.5 billion. That's a lot of rocks. But back to our outing. 

After a couple of hours of climbing and chatting, my shoulders ached and I was dreaming of hot tub jets loosening them up. (A hot shower had to suffice.) Although I haven't discovered a new passion, I would definitely go back sometime. New experiences keep us young, right, despite what my body might say about it. With that, it's time to retire to my couch and watch some soccer. 

Summer Reads

Many people associate summer reading with books with covers featuring beach umbrellas and the like. But there's nothing that turns me off more than a description of a novel with words like "heartwarming" or "cozy" or, god forbid, "romance." Instead, the extra time I have to read in the summer months allows me to dig in to books that are so intense I need recovery time.

"Brawler" by Lauren Groff definitely falls into that category. I still remember the impact her "Fates and Furies" had on me ten+ years ago. It might have been the first "he said/she said" novel I read, and my mind was kind of blown. 

I admit to being a bit surprised that "Brawler" had a similar impact. It is, after all, a book of short stories. But Groff somehow developed characters and plots in a matter of pages that made me sit back and say, "whoa." I could not finish one story and immediately head into the next -- recuperation time was required! 

I love this description of the book from the NYT review: "Lauren Groff produces rough beasts that slouch off in unexpected directions and spawn. There's often a little story within the story, a joey in a marsupial pouch." In addition to appreciating the actual review, I learned that "Brawler" is the third collection of stories Groff has published, most of which previously appeared in The New Yorker. "Delicate Edible Birds: And Other Stories" and "Florida" are now on my "to read" list. 

"Good People" by Patmeena Sabit left me reeling. I'm not alone. The NYT named Sabit's debut novel one of the best books of the year when it hit bookstores in April. Ann Patchett's blurb reads, "A thrilling tour de force of a novel." Khaled Hosseini called it "a stunning read." The raves go on and on. 

So what's the book about? It tells the story of an Afghani family that moves to the United States. As times passes, patriarch Rahmat becomes a big time player in the commercial real estate industry, and the family moves to a mega-mansion in Northern Virginia. There's a significant Muslim community in the area that enables the family members to maintain their faith and traditions. Mostly. Zorah, the teenage daughter, struggles to balance the freedoms of the West with her Muslim upbringing.

The publisher's description of the novel reads: "Zorah Sharaf could do no wrong. Zorah Sharaf brought shame upon her family. What’s the truth? Depends on who you ask." You get a lot of opinions as the story unfolds, which is told from the perspective of outsiders to the family. At no point do you hear from the people most intimately involved in what happens. It's an approach that facilitates a reading experience that's both quick and immersive. Read it!  

"Mad Mabel" doesn't have the same intensity as either "Brawler" or "Good People," but boy does it have a good twist. Elsie Mabel Fitzpatrick is a crotchety old woman living a more or less quiet life until a neighbor dies under mysterious circumstances. It comes out that Elsie is "Mad Mabel," Australia's youngest convicted murderer. Has she struck again? 

Readers of course learn about this backstory over the course of the novel. Suffice it to say that Mabel had a tumultuous childhood. Luckily, her best friend Daphne was always by her side. That early friendship truly saved her. 

While I enjoyed the unfolding of Mabel's history, it was the unexpected relationship between the old woman and her nine year old neighbor that made the story for me. Precocious doesn't begin to describe Persephone. (With a name like that, did she have a choice?) Elsie and Persephone make for a terrific duo, and I can see them on the big screen. Surprisingly, no movie seems to be in the works. 

I'll close with a word about author Sally Hepworth, whom I hadn't previously read. She is known for her "darkly charming" books. "Dark" and "charming" aren't words you'd typically see together, but it is an apt description of "Mad Mabel." I like it. Hepworth has nine other books to her name, and I'll definitely check them out. For more on Hepworth, click here.

With that, I'm off to do some reading. "The Calamity Club" by Kathryn Stockett is on my nightstand, and there's no time like the present to jump into the 600+ page tome. Wish me luck!

"America Over the Last 250 Years" by Sarasota School of Arts and Sciences Students

There are many ways to celebrate our country's 250th birthday other (and more appropriate) than cage fighting on the White House lawn. Case in point: The digital quilt created by students and arts educators at Sarasota School of Arts that "reflects what America represents to today's youth, both past and present." I love it. 

Participants contributed a single square for inclusion in the work. Deciding upon an image that represents their view of America had to have been challenging, especially when the project's scope included the influences of technology, the arts, industry and history on our country. What would you choose what to depict from such a wide spectrum of possibilities? 

Students were encouraged to incorporate red, white and blue into their works. This enabled the squares to be arranged so that the work as a whole looks like an American flag from a distance. It cannot have been easy to achieve this effect. Kudos to whoever was tasked with figuring out this part of the project. To see the work in its entirety, click here. 

Not surprisingly, the quilt includes a huge variety of images. An early photograph of the Statue of Liberty (one of the first ever taken) abuts a painting of red, white and blue cupcakes (yes, please!) This image declares the student's support for Team USA in the World Cup. (In case you aren't following the tournament, Team USA has won its first two matches and is looking good.) 

The quilt also includes images you might not immediately associate with our nation's history. Not shown, for instance, is a reproduction of an ad for "Bohemian Rhapsody," a movie about singer Freddie Mercury. "We will rock you," it proclaims. Okay. I haven't seen the movie, so my initial thought was that the image went to the Constitutional right to freedom of speech. But then I dug a little bit deeper. A quick Google search revealed that the movie explores themes of identity, chosen family and acceptance. I am totally on board with a depiction of these aspirational values in the quilt. 

Perhaps not surprisingly, one of my favorite squares was this recreation of the iconic painting "Washington Crossing the Delaware" by Emanuel Leutze. I am always drawn to the reimagining of famous works of art by contemporary artists. Alternative versions of Leutze's painting have been created by Robert Colescott, Vanessa German and Kent Monkman. Fun fact: Monkman's monumental painting "Wooden Boat People: Resurgence of the People" was commissioned by the Met for its Great Hall, where it hung for three months.  But I digress. My point is that this work, primitive as it might be, spoke to me. It makes me happy to imagine a child being inspired to create his or her own version of Leutze's iconic painting. 

I'll leave you with an image that depicts a much more sobering view of our country's history. A quick look at this painting shows a figure on a distant shore reaching out towards America and all of its promise. "Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," right? But as we all know, the United States has some dark history, a piece of which is depicted here. 

When you look more carefully, you see that the man is chained. The reason? He is awaiting passage to the United States on a slave ship. The painting makes me think of Kara Walker's etching "no world" from her "An Unpeopled Land in Uncharted Waters" series. As an aside, "no world" is included in the "Something Borrowed, Something New" exhibit now on at Sarasota Art Museum. Both works are powerful remembrances of an ugly part of our country's past. 

With that, I'll leave you with an exhortation to stop into City Hall and see "America Over the Last 250 Years" yourself. Congratulations to the teachers who developed this project and to the students who participated. And thanks to the City of Sarasota for making the work publicly available. The "quilt" shows, once again, something beautiful can be created when we work together.