Category Archives: THE MIDWEST

Kooky Kansas: pt. 2 Lucas

While grassroots art can be found – as it should be – scattered in random rural locations throughout Kansas, there also is  a self-conscious concentration of it in the small Kansas town of Lucas which has a  storefront museum in some old  limestone buildings devoted to grassroots art. This is the art stereotypically practiced by self-taught, iconoclastic loners – like  farmers and ranchers –  but also by  trained artists and savvy hipsters living in remote places  and it ranges from enticing odd to childlike to a little scary.  A relative of folk art, grassroots art sometimes is called visionary art, naïve art, or primitive art.

You’ll see it all in Lucas – not only at the Grassroots Art Center but at a few other locations in town. When we visited a few years ago in December, someone from the museum took me, my husband and two young-teen kids, to a plain little unheated bungalow on a quiet street a few blocks away – and inside was the most astonishing sight. Every single room was covered with Barbies – yes, that Barbie – and other dolls.  There were  Barbies dripping from walls covered in aluminum foil and  piled up in the bathtub, Barbies exotically-decorated and decked out in every which way. If this hadn’t been labeled “art” it might instead be viewed as a  “cry for help.”  We were all a bit spooked walking around this ice cold bungalow of Barbies – including my daughter who was never a huge Barbie fan but played with them occasionally.  Check it out yourself at http://www.kansastravel.org/isis.htm

In the backyard is local Lucas legend Florence Deeble’s  Rock Garden – a rather worn collection of “concrete postcards” – sculptures depicting famous places Florence visited, such as  Mount Rushmore.  A few blocks away, is the real Lucas masterpiece (which inspired young Florence and spawned the Grassroots Art Center) known as The Garden of Eden.  Again, stay tuned.

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Kooky Kansas

A Wall Street Journal reporter seems to be mining the kooky Kansas beat, which I used to fancy as my own.  After writing about the Big Well in Greensburg, Ks., she wrote a piece on the eccentric roadside sculpture in nearby Mullinville, Ks., pop. 202,  which has long been a source of fascination for my family as we drive to and from my in-laws house in western Kansas.   Last December, in addition to slowing down on the not-that-busy state highway to look more closely at the ever-growing line of scrap-metal whirligigs, many of them with political references of an indeterminate nature, we turned north on a country road in town and past the sculptor’s workshop – a shed with heaps of scrap metal and half-finished whirligigs (maybe that’s gigs.)   There must be several hundred by now along the road  – made of junk metal, glass bottles, presumably pilfered road signs, toilet seats, tractor gears, bowling balls, all whirling in the wind.

From the WSJ story, we learned that the sculptor  is 79-year-old farmer named M.T. Liggett, that his subjects include three former wives and many girlfriends including one portrayed as a mouse in pearls holding a piece of cheese, caught in a mousetrap. (Guess that relationship didn’t go so well.) Among his favorites is one of Bill Clinton with a padlock welded to the zipper of his pants. Word  has it that the American Visionary Arts Museum in Baltimore – which I was dismayed to discover was closed on the Monday I visited – is displaying Liggett’s  work.

It’s part of a genre of art by self-taught folks known variously as grassroots art or naive art – and Kansas is full of it. Stay tuned.

For more, see: http://online.wsj.com/article_email/SB10001424052748703894304575047461204497670-lMyQjAxMTAwMDAwOTEwNDkyWj.html

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The BIG WELL/Greensburg, Ks: Takemewithyou

Fate (or chance or destiny?) has taken me to some unexpected places, sometimes repeatedly, and one of them is Greensburg, Kansas – a small town (pop. 1000) in the state’s windy west that was almost blown off the map in 2007 by a brutal tornado that killed eleven people and destroyed most of the town. (An event that ironically put Greensburg on the map.)

In the past 23 years, I have driven through Greensburg oh, maybe, 23 times, during our annual trips to visit my in-laws who live about an hour west in the even smaller wind-swept town  of Wright, Ks. (pop. about 100) near Dodge City.  Until the tornado struck, one of my favorite parts of our Kansas trip was going through Greensburg,  driving under – if my memory serves me correctly – an almost hand-written sign blowing in the wind over State Highway 54 (US 400) that read: “BIG WELL.”   With an arrow pointing due south.

I did visit the Big Well (aka “the world’s largest hand-dug well”….32 feet wide and 109 feet deep) at least once and don’t remember it being that Big a Deal.  But that Big Sign – way cool! Something about its no-nonsense, no frills, bluntness struck me as classic Kansas. It is what it is.

But after the tornado – which blew the sign to God knows where –  the sign never reappeared.

So I was pleased to read in a front page Wall Street Journal story yesterday (http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703906204575027323116293074.html) that the Big Well may soon be an even bigger  tourist attraction – as Greensburg continues its valiant efforts to recover from a tornado whose devastation – flattened buildings, chewed-up trees, piles of random rubble – I’ve seen firsthand.

Apparently Greensburg is emerging as an eco-tourism hotspot ( environmentalists including Leo DeCaprio are helping to resurrect Greensburg as a “green city” ….geddit?) – and the city has plans to develop a $3 million Big Well museum, contracting with big shot New York museum designers.

Good for them. I just hope they remember to string up that Big Sign again.  (And maintain some of that low-key, quirky, Kansas charm.)

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Filed under Kansas, Kansas misc, On the road

Trust me: the fantastic new mural on Interstate 35 in northern Missouri

I know, I know – I should be blogging today about the thwarted terrorism attack at the airport of my youth (my native Detroit). But I’m far more excited to share my latest unlikely discovery – a  beautiful new mural we chanced upon inside – of all places – the spanking new welcome center along Interstate 35 in the northern Missouri city of Eagleville.

Installed in September 2009, the mural fills a long wall inside the Eagleville Welcome Center (opened in February 2008) and is made of 600,000 pieces of multi-colored glass tile.  An homage to Missouri history, culture, and topography, the mural has all kinds of  scenes (the Missouri River, the Kansas City Jazz and Negro League Baseball Museums) and portraits (Jesse James, Harry Truman, Thomas Hart Benton) and cultural touchstones (from the American Bison to the Missouri River steamboat, Arabia.) Among other things, I learned that Walt Disney not only grew up on a farm near the small town of Marceline, Mo. (the Disneys’ barn is featured in the mural) but that the main streets in every Disney attraction are based on Marceline’s main street. Walt even recreated the barn on his home property in Los Angeles.

Apparently I am not the only one curious about the many images embedded in the mural, which was designed by a Washington State couple who won a competition to design the mural, funded through a federal grant. At the center, I picked up a very helpful 16-page pamphlet all about the mural – entitled “The Prairie Passage” – produced by the Missouri Department of Transportation.

I love finding art in unexpected places – and I love that someone bothered to  perk up my drive through northern Missouri. This rest area is a far cry from the dreary ones I remember from the family road trips of my 1960’s youth. Which leads me to wonder – how much of this is going on at other interstate rest areas and welcome centers across the country? Is this effort on the rise or in decline? Which states or rest stops have the best public art installations? I have seen some great examples of  rest area public art in Iowa  along Interstate 80 (funded by the Iowa Department of Transportation’s Art-in-Transit program).  Googling for more info, I chanced upon a terrific website about rest area history (www.restareahistory.org) that may answer some of my questions.

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Filed under Discoveries: trust me, Iowa, Missouri, On the road, rest area

Christmas in Dodge City

We made it with no problem from Des Moines to Dodge City (technically the small town of Wright, outside Dodge) and it’s a good thing we’re not traveling today. It is bitter cold, with fierce winds, making an already harsh landscape look even harsher, the trees even more battered and windswept, the land flat, frozen,empty, the sky a dull, slightly menacing shade of blue-gray (is there snow in them there clouds.)

Emma, my trusty computer tech, is here with me at the wonderful new Cup of Jo-nes on Wyatt Earp Blvd. (the kids here “drag Earp” for fun) which has great chai and much-welcomed WiFi. Thank you, thank you. Our drive yesterday featured various forms of precip – starting with the worst, frozen drizzle (is there such a thing a “freezing fog”?) outside Des Moines, then rain in southern Iowa and northern Missouri, brief sunshine in K.C. then dense fog, which ruined my favorite part of the trip – the scenic Flint Hills of Kansas, which were shrouded beyond recognition. By Wichita, we just had wind, a lot of fierce wind (which just blew open the heavy wooden door to this coffee house) . The wind also knocked out the heat at D’s mother’s house so we had a very cold night and morning until some neighbors came and started fiddling with the boiler.

Who knows what weather comes next? Doesn’t look like much snow but we may get more ice – and the wind is likely to remain fierce. We will probably try to get to a movie in the mall and maybe our favorite mexican restaurant in Dodge, otherwise we’re not likely to check out the  tourist hotspots which include A reproduction of Boot Hill (my husband had a friend who had a summer job playing the part of the “Drunken Indian” there in in the 1970’s. I’m thinking that part has been eliminated these days), the “Kansas Teachers Hall of Fame & Gunfighters Wax Museum” (no joke), and the Bridle Bit Museum.” We’re rather much-welcome spend time with family!

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Minneapolis: A B&B gets it right, neither smothering nor ignoring its guests

I still cringe at the memory of the effusive Iowa City B&B owners who welcomed my husband and me to their home like we were their long lost kids returning home after our first year of college.  They wanted to talk and talk and talk. We wanted to leave. Not that I mind a little B&B banter – we always appreciate  suggestions on where to eat, what to see, how to get from here to there.  But striking that balance between smothering your guests or ignoring them can be a challenge for B&B proprietors.  I think the owners of a Minneapolis B&B that we stayed at earlier this month got it right.  (Although, full disclosure, friends we recommended this place to years ago found them too aloof.)

I last visited Evelo’s B&B about 15 years ago and was pleased to see it’s still around (less pleased to see that the price of a room has doubled – from $45 to $95). It’s in a good location, on a quiet residential street in the Lowry Hill area, near the Walker Art Center, Lake of the Isles, and Uptown (although that neighborhood has lost its scruffy arty charm  since we last visited.) From the street, the three-story, turn-of-the-20th-century B&B is unexceptional looking – and there’s no sign indicating it offers lodging.

But step inside and you’re in an impeccably preserved Victorian parlor with the original heavy dark oak woodwork, period furnishings, stained-glass domed lamps everywhere, and carefully arranged collections of American pottery. It’s more classy, than fusty, fussy, or frilly – the work of sophisticated collectors with a very good eye.  The dining room walls were stenciled by hand with a Tiffany pattern of tall cypress trees modeled on the interior of Istanbul’s Topkapi Palace (which I visited in, um, 1982.)  We only know this because we asked the proprietor, who gladly (but only briefly) filled us in.  She appeared to have a speak-when-spoken-to policy that some might consider aloof but we appreciated. We saw her a little when we arrived and a little  at breakfast before we left. Otherwise we were on our own, which is how we like it!

I almost forgot to mention the rooms – all three of them. They’re on the upper floors, more casually furnished than the main floor – with shabby chic bedspreads and distressed furniture – not a teddy bear in sight.  More like staying in a cheerful room in grandma’s attic, complete with creaky wooden floors and a narrow staircase. You do have to share the one bathroom – which can be awkward, especially in the morning when you may encounter strangers also tiptoeing toward the shower.  Co-existing with other guests at a B&B reminds me a bit of Kabuki-style choreography – listening for sounds outside your room, those telltale footsteps in the hall or water running in the bathroom; peaking out the door to see if the bathroom door is ajar;  making a break for it and closing the bathroom door softly but firmly; and feeling relieved – until you remember you have to exit the way you arrived.

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