Sunday, September 12, 2010

Dare Wright


Dare Wright
(December 3, 1914 – January 25, 2001)

... and speaking of children's books featuring black and white photographs of stuffed bears in real-world settings ...

Born in Canada in 1914, Dare Wright spent most of her formative years in Cleveland. Her parents were separated when she was a child. Her older brother Blaine lived with their alcoholic, theater critic father, while she lived with her mother, professional portrait painter Edith Stevenson Wright.

Settling in Cleveland in 1919, and after a few living arrangements based upon the kindness of strangers, the independent painter and her young daughter found their own apartment in Cleveland Heights in 1921. She was commissioned to paint lawyers, judges, politicians - and finally received the favor of the Hanna family. She painted a posthumous portrait of Marcus Bales Hanna, and later his son, Daniel Sr. owner of the Cleveland Leader, and later the News. They lavished her with connections and attention, granting her studio space in the Hanna Building.

I work in the Hanna Building. Crazy.

Dare went to Coventry Elementary School, and by fourth grade a boarder at Laurel School. Biographer Jean Nathan in her book The Secret Life of The Lonely Doll suggests that her life of impermanence coupled with her mother's focus on the superficial (because, you know, she was a painter) was a major factor in shaping Dare's deep-seated sorrow regarding connection with actual people, and her tendency to render inanimate objects with personality and as a repository for her fantasies of love and acceptance.

If Dare were raised by her successful, aloof, artist father and had an ne'er-do-well mother who drank a lot, it would still be called the mother's fault for Dare's becoming a glamorous, disaffected freak, because that is how we look at things.

Edith's success grew. She painted Calvin Coolidge's portrait in 1928 and it was hung in Public Hall, where he had received his party's nomination in 1924. In 1935 a cigarette caused a fire in Public Hall and the portrait was destroyed.

Graduating from Laurel in 1933 (top five in her class) Dare moved to New York and discovered the brother she had never known. Her journeys took her from there to Hollywood (where she failed to become an actress) back to Cleveland and to New York, eventually establishing herself as a stunning, stylish model for fashion magazines.

She became a photographer, and was equally accomplished in front of and behind the camera. In 1957 she created her legendary children's book, The Lonely Doll featuring Edie, a felt Lenci Doll from her own childhood, named after her mother. In the story this most lonely of dolls is visited by Mr. Bear and Little Bear (stand-ins, of course, for her absent father and brother) and after a tentative period of discovery and tests of trust, the trio is bonded forever and will never be apart again.

The Lonely Doll disappeared in obscurity - but remained a strong, psychic presence in the mind of many baby boomer aged children, and eventually returned to print in 1998. We have a copy. My daughter's middle name is Dare.

Dare Wright died in 2001.

Sources:
Wikipedia
The Secret Life of the Lonely Doll
This American Life

Friday, September 10, 2010

Cleveland Is A Warm, Fuzzy Place (book)


Written by David Cockley, Cleveland Is A Warm, Fuzzy Place is a children's book first published in 1977 by Corinthian Press (Shaker Heights, Ohio.) It tells the story of a stuffed bear named who notices his girl is missing, and leaves the safety of their home to find her.

His adventures take him all over Greater Cleveland, an all-encompassing journey and yet left enough ground not covered to inspire a second book called Cleveland Is A Wild, Woolly Place.

I had this book as a kid, maybe a little long in the tooth for it (it was published when I was nine, for goodness sakes) but it did intrigue my imagination, especially the idea of taking a stuffed animal and taking photographs of it in unusual places.

(Some day I will tell the strange story of one-time Clevelander Dare Wright, from whom we got the idea for our daughter's middle name.)

My mother must have given this book away when I was a teenager, it has lived out its usefulness and someone else could use it. I recently bought both the first and second volumes from Loganberry Books in the hopes of sharing it with my kids. This was not a happy bedtime.

Anachronisms in Warm, Fuzzy Place alone include such one-time facts such as:
Cleveland is famous for making the steel that's used to make cars and boats and buildings.

Cleveland makes more machines, more car parts and more paint than any other city in the country.

Cleveland is one of the few cities with teams in all major sports, including the Cavaliers in basketball, the Barons in hockey, the Nets in tennis and the Cobras in soccer.

Cleveland Browns, the most consistently successful team in pro football history.

Benjamin was invited to visit the Cleveland schools, which are among the best in the country.

Randall Park Mall, the largest indoor shopping mall in the United States.
Everybody sigh.

My favorite part, though, is where he meets the mayor, who is only referred to as "The Mayor." However, in the first and second editions we see the 31 year-old Mayor's face:

In editions printed after 1979, he is only seen from behind walking away from Benjamin, holding the already-received certificate - as though the photographer just missed the shot.

Mr. Cockley has also written plays for children like The Homework Conspiracy and Kids' Countryand is an Instructor of Marketing at the University of Akron College of Business.

I feel somewhat betrayed to find Mr. Cockley has also written a book called Columbus is a Can-Do Kind of Place.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Precious


Howard the Duck
Seven-Eleven Marvel Comics Glass
(1977)

Mine broke in 2006.
I miss it very much.


* * *

Precious
by The Pretenders
from their 1980 LP release
"The Pretenders"

I like the way you cross the street
'Cause you're precious.
Moving through the Cleveland heat,
How precious.
Taking rides and all the kicks:
You're so precious.
But you know I was shittin' bricks,
'cause I'm precious.

Made me wanna, made me wanna,
You made me make it.
You're so mean

East 55th and Euclid Avenue
Was real precious.
Hotel Sterling comin' into view
How precious.
Pity that you bruised my hip
'cause I'm precious.
You shouldn't let your manners slip.
You're too precious.

Made me wanna, made me wanna,
You made me make it.
You're so mean

We went around and round and
round and round and round the Shoreway
We was a duet duet duet duet
do it on the pavement
Oh maybe maybe
I'm gonna have a baby
We was a duet oh we do it all night

Made me wanna, made me wanna,
You made me make it.
You're so mean

I was feeling kind of ethereal.
'Cause I'm precious.
I got my eye on your Imperial.
You're so precious.
Now, Howard the Duck and Mister Stress both stayed
Trapped in a world that they never made.
But not me, baby - I'm too precious.
Fuck off!

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Dennis Kucinich



Dennis John Kucinich
(born October 8, 1946)

Someone tried to kill Dennis, y'all.

Before communicating with space aliens and marrying a supernaturally hot, young British woman, Dennis Kucinich (six-time U.S. Representative from Ohio's 10th Congressional District - he represents my Dad, which I think is hilarious) was once the boy Mayor of Cleveland.

In 1977 he was elected - at the age of 31 - to the office, and his tenure was distinguished, as Carter's was, for not giving away enough of the store to get everyone out of the terrible hole that was the late 1970s. In particular he was excoriated for not selling Cleveland's publicly owned electrical utility to its main, private competitor to get the city out of debt, a debt which had been routinely forgiven by its main bond-holder, Cleveland Trust. Making his stand for the little people public earned the wrath of Cleveland Trust, which suddenly demanded all debts repaid, plunging the city into default.

Cleveland was not the first major American city (following the Depression) to go into default - that honor belongs to New York City. But as we all know, NYC going into debt would have been a major embarrassment and they were bailed out by the federal government. Cleveland was already an embarrassment, and was so allowed to fall.

Rumor has it that "a hit man from Maryland" (did he have bushy hair?) was sent to kill Kucinich for reasons which are not made clear in Wikipedia, nor why, just because there were a (failed) attempt to recall him out of office that such a hit would be called off. But it was reported that way in the Free Times a few years ago, and we all know where that kind of investigative journalism got them.

The former Muni Light, now Cleveland Public Power, continues to provide electricity at reasonable rates to the people of Cleveland, and Kucinich, after a decade or so of soul-searching, was vindicated for his efforts and is now the political powerhouse we all know and love to watch on Jon Stewart.

Dennis Kucinich was the last Cleveland mayor to serve a two-year term, which was extended to a four-year term during the tenure of George Voinovich.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Howard the Duck (comic book)

Howard the Duck changed my life, but I never realized in what way nor how much until I began to re-read them this week. My entire childhood was colored by my exposure to this Marvel comic book, the way I spoke, the way I wrote. This was not necessarily a good thing, I do not recommend letting anyone under high school age read this comic book. I began when I was only nine.

Back up ... Howard the Duck is known to most as a terrible film produced by George Lucas from the mid-1980s. I won't bother going into that. The character debuted in 1973 in Marvel's pulp title Adventure Into Fear, a minor character originally written by Steve Gerber and drawn by Clevelander Val Mayerik. He resurfaced in a few issues of Man-Thing before landing in his own title in 1976.

Prior to Giant Size Man-Thing #4 (an annual) this duck, from a world Gerber never gave a name (though later writers formally named it Duckworld, which is irritating because we don't call Earth People Planet) where ducks are the dominant life-form is summoned with others to a nexus in the cosmos to fight some evil entity, whatever. Trying to get home, he is accidentally dropped on Earth, in the city of Cleveland.

Why did I become attached to this comic at such an early age? My brother was reading Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four (we were strictly a Marvel home - always the underdogs, we Hansens) I was trying to find a storyline that I could own. A talking, sarcastic duck? In Cleveland? Sweet! The fact is, I didn't understand half of it, and therein lies the problem.

As conceived by Gerber, this book was pure satire, or parody. Depended on the issue. The villains were a mash-up of pathetic professional types empowered with bizarre and punny abilities. A lot of them are artists. The night watchman who can't get a book published is possessed by a turnip from space - the man, locked in his head wants an outlet for his imagination, the root vegetable from outer space (just writing that makes me smile) wants to know the pleasures of the flesh. Every issue, Howard encounters a character like that, and has to deal with it, often rising to heroism he did not know he had.

Because Howard is a curmudgeon, a cigar-chomping misanthrope who just wants to go home, and is stuck in 1970s Cleveland, the only city at that time worse off than New York City. But even Cleveland is not Cleveland. I cannot find any evidence that he ever lived here, or even spent any time here (Gerber died in 2008) - but original HTD artist Val Mayerik did, even once creating work for American Splendor. But an advertisement for a martial arts course in issue #3 prominently lists the address as the corner of "Oak" and "Elm." Either Gerber was crossing his fingers, hoping Cleveland, like most cities, has streets bearing these names that intersect ... or he didn't care. Cleveland, like everything in this comic, is a symbol for something else. Howard had to end up somewhere unsexy. Cleveland it is.

The main problem with my reading it at such a young age was that I did not understand what was being commented upon. An evil wizard accountant? Becoming a candidate for President for the All Night Party? I acquired a language for sarcasm and acidity without having anything to direct it at. Howard disdains hypocrisy, fads and fashion, rude people ... but his constant barrage of attitude against these mundane evils just struck this child as being disgruntled=funny. I missed his compassion, his acts of kindness - he's a good guy, he's just sick of everybody's shit.

The first issue of Howard the Duck debuted in 1976. So did the first issue of American Splendor. Discuss.

Friday, September 3, 2010

The March of Time


Time Inc. Created the newsreel The March of Time in 1935. An early foray at tele-journalism, several of the techniques pioneered by this successful featurette (they were continued through the early fifties) may be considered deceptive, or even unethical. Events were often re-created, performed by actors - or sometimes by the actual participants - on sets or soundstages far from the site of the actual stories, without any explanation that this was being done.

In addition, the stentorian, God-On-High voice of Westbrook Van Voorhis lent a heightened or exaggerated sense of importance to the proceedings. Orson Welles famously lampooned these films in Citizen Kane, providing entertaining exposition through a newsreel called News On The March.

The Cleveland Press drew a direct comparison to these newreels in their March 28, 1936 review of The Living Newspaper:
With simple staging and unique lighting, "The Living Newspaper dramatizes news events - local, national, and international - in an incisive and compact March of Time manner."
This comparison was also made in Variety.


A number of March of Time films will be broadcast this weekend on Turner Classic Movies (see today's New York Times for more details.)

Sources:
Wikipedia
The Cleveland Press
The New York Times

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Arthur Kennedy


Arthur Kennedy (February 17, 1914 – January 5, 1990) was born in Worcester, Massachusetts (full name: John Arthur Kennedy) and received a degree in theater from Carnegie Mellon, where they still give an annual award in his name. He was a notable film actor, probably known to most Americans for his performances in Westerns. He was also a remarkable stage actor, originating the role of Biff in Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman (for which he won a Tony Award) and that of John Proctor in the 1953 Broadway production of The Crucible.

Brooks Atkinson in the The New York Times praised that production, calling Kennedy’s performance “superb” and that he is “clear and resolute, full of fire, searching his own mind.” Atkinson goes on to report that “Although 'The Crucible' is a powerful drama, it stands second to Death of a Salesman as a work of art.”
“The literary style is cruder. The early motivation is muffled in the uproar of the opening scene, and the theme does not develop with the simple eloquence of 'Death of a Salesman'.

“Miller has tried to pack too much inside his drama, and that he has permitted himself to be concerned more with the technique of the witch hunt than with its humanity. By the standards of 'Death of a Salesman', there is too much excitement and not enough emotion in 'The Crucible'.
This is nonsense, of course. While the issues of Salesman may continue to resonate into the 21st century, its language and style become increasingly stilted and dated while Crucible becomes more poignant - or to look at it another way, I care about the characters in Crucible, and I dislike absolutely everyone in Salesman.

Cleveland Press theater critic Tony Mastroianni interviewed Kennedy in 1965 while he was playing a convict in the Steve McQueen film Nevada Smith. During this interview Kennedy spoke about his time in Cleveland, working as a performer at the Old Globe Theater at the Great Lakes Exposition. One particular piece of information will be painfully trenchant to all my little Cleveland theater friends, and teach them that things today are as they have ever been.

To wit:
“No, we didn’t use any Clevelanders. It was an imported company.”
Big sigh.

Sources:
Wikipedia
The New York Times
The Cleveland Press