Modern life

AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL

I recently received my new passport. The pages for stamps and visas are decorated with images, as they have been in the past, but this is the first time I looked at them closely: a windjammer and a lighthouse; a steam engine pulling a train in a Western landscape; a farmer plowing a field with a team of oxen. Not one of the images is contemporary, with the exception of a communications satellite on the inside back cover. The pictures generally invoke a (rosy) pre-industrial past. And except for Independence Hall, there is not a hint of urbanity. America is apparently a land of open spaces,

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BLACK IS THE NEW BLACK

When I went to school in England in the fifties we were obliged to wear blue blazers with the school crest. I came across this photo of a class of the Interior Design Department of Northumbria University taken in the Bauhaus building in Dessau. Apparently strict dress codes still apply, and are followed by instructors as well as students, and are even extended to hijabs. Gropius would be pleased.

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THE KING JAMES VERSION

While James Holzhauer was making his impressive run on Jeopardy I read several articles that suggested that his aggressive and risky mode of play had changed the game forever. Well, he certainly changed it for me–after more than a decade or more I’ve stopped watching. Mainly because Holzhauer didn’t change the game forever. After he lost, almost immediately things went back to the way they were: contestants timidly started with the $200 category and went on, square by square, and when they hit Double Jeopardy, the bets were pitifully small. The thrill of watching Holzhauer go all in was gone.

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WHY THE FRENCH LIKE MODERN DESIGN

Watching the French television political soap Marseille—but anything with Gérard Depardieu can’t be all bad—I was struck, again, by how much the French like modern design. The furniture in the scenes was inevitably modernist, more so than would be the case in Madame Secretary, say. Then it struck me that while the furniture was aggressively modern, most of the background architecture was not. The Marseille city hall, for example, is a beautiful seventeenth-century building; Depardieu’s home (he plays the mayor, of course) is a fin-de-siècle villa. In one episode, a hospital room filled with the latest medical gadgetry in a private clinic,

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FRUITCAKE

What is it with Americans and fruitcakes? For many years we used to throw an annual midday New Year’s Day party. Bloody Marys, big buffet table, Niman Ranch ham, stuff like that. People seemed to enjoy the food, but we noticed that there was usually leftover fruitcake. We were puzzled why there were so few takers, because we had gone to a lot of trouble to order this particular confection from Vermont. Perhaps because we came from Canada, where fruitcake—dark, moist, and rich—is a Christmas tradition, we didn’t know that to Americans fruitcake was associated with a different tradition.

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LOOKING NORTH

I attended McGill University, which is sometimes described as “the Harvard of the North.” After reading Ross Douthat’s column on the Ivy League in today’s New York Times, it’s evident that it really isn’t—or at least wasn’t when I was there. One difference is that Canadian students didn’t “go away to college,” they simply attended whatever university was near to where they lived. Thus, most of my architecture classmates—all men—were Montrealers. Unlike Ivy League campuses today, which are awash with monogrammed sweatshirts and caps, we didn’t show off our affiliation—actually we didn’t wear sweat shirts,

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IN THE CORNER WITH MAURY

Richard Terrill recounts a wonderful story in “Who Was Bill Evans?”

Jazz bandleader Stan Kenton told a story about himself as a kid, trying to sneak into a Paris club to hear jazz. He was too young to drink, even in France. The concierge finally said, ok, just go sit in the corner with that old man. His name is Maury.

And it went like this for several evenings. Go sit in the corner with Maury, kid.

Years later, Kenton learned that the old man had been Maurice Ravel.

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