Sunday at the Village Vanguard

by Peter Jaroff

 

 

Things in New York begin either six flights up or one flight down and then just vanish. All the wonders that Henry James wondered at a century ago – the Waldorf-Astoria, the Metropolitan Opera – are gone, and the wonders that he didn’t wonder at but that we know enough to wonder at now – say, Albert Ryder’s room in the Village – are

The Waldorf Hotel in 1893

gone, too. The past, even the immediate past, in New York is organized more or less like the cemetery in Venice: the skeletons are buried and then, after a dozen years, dugup and evicted and thrown onto a second island, in a mixed-up heap of remembrance. New Yorkers live on that second island, and sort through crazy heaps of memory to find a past. There are compensations for our indifference, though. Freed from its connection to its origins, the past has more carry. Nothing calls it home, and the picture or the poem or the piano part often just keeps on traveling, past the original audience and into the world, the way that, though the Polo Grounds are gone, Bobby Thomson’s home run is still traveling over that fence.

 

Exactly forty years ago this summer, on June 25, 1961, three young jazz musicians – the piano player Bill Evans, the bass player Scott LaFaro, and the drummer Paul Motian – went down to a New York basement, smoked, yawned, joked a bit, and got to work. The trio played thirteen songs, most of them slow: “My Romance,” “I Loves You, Porgy,” and even a waltz from the Walt Disney movie “Alice in Wonderland.” The music they made was recorded, and was released later that year by a small independent label called Riverside. The album’s title was “Sunday at the Village Vanguard.” Later in the year, another record from that afternoon was released, called “Waltz for Debby,” after one of the songs. Since then, the same two and a half hours has been repackaged and re-released and remastered and reconsidered, in albums called, among other things, “The Village Vanguard Sessions” and “At the Village Vanguard.”

 

It is easy to cite worshipful jazz-critic passages about them, concerning intonation and modal passages and singing tones, though none of the writing itself has the least emotional force. It is difficult to explain the force the music does have, since it is not particularly forceful. People who don’t respond to it are puzzled that anyone hears anything in it at all. They say that it sounds like “background music,” or like cocktail music. Philip Larkin, acerbic but sound, said that it had a Pierrot-in-the-moonlight quality, and how you feel about it, perhaps, depends on how you feel about Pierrot in moonlight. As the jazz critic Ira Gitler pointed out in the original liner notes, Evans was at the time an aficionado of Zen Buddhism, and the music he made was meditative and tuneful, between Suzuki and Snow White.

 

If you are vulnerable to this music, however, you are completely vulnerable to it. Bill Evans has no casual fans. After that afternoon, his name became synonymous with a heartbreak quality that is not like anything else in music. It is not little-boy-lost or blue, like Miles Davis, but transparent and wistful. Evans’s solos on “Alice in Wonderland” and “My Foolish Heart” and, especially, “Porgy” have a mother-of-pearl tone, singing and skipping, as though they were being played on the celesta or xylophone. They are as close to pure emotion, produced without impediments – not at all the same thing as an entire self poured out without inhibitions, the bebop dream – as exists in music. His music hints at the secret truth that New York is sad before it is busy, and that it is a kind of inverted garden, with all the flowers blooming down in the basements.

 

This particular basement, the Village Vanguard, still stands, or cowers, under Seventh Avenue. And three of the people who were there that particular afternoon – the producer, the drummer, and the club owner – were in town on the weekend of the fortieth anniversary. On June 24th and 25th of this year, it was possible to speak to them, and to get them to ruminate a bit on how the afternoon happened, why so many people now remember it, why earnest French and Japanese scholars and collectors brood and argue over and analyze it, and what it all has to do with the still potent romantic formula of city lights, early death, and the piano.

 

The facts of Bill Evans’s life, and of the events leading to that afternoon, are easy to find. Bill Evans was born in 1929 in New Jersey, into a Russian Orthodox family. He studied music at Southeastern Louisiana College, of all places, and graduated playing flute and piano and violin – a prodigy. He was one of the first jazz musicians who knew Schubert and Nat King Cole equally well, and he thought that he could get more of the spirit of Schubert by playing like Nat Cole than by playing like Arthur Rubenstein. He came to New York in 1955, scuffled around, and then was taken up by Miles Davis. In 1958, Evans joined Davis’s group for eight months – the only white musician in the sextet – and then played piano on Davis’s “Kind of Blue,” for which, by most accounts, he collaborated on many of the basic tunes. Davis gave him noise – a sudden credibility in the suspicious jazz world – but he gave Davis quiet. He sounded “like crystal notes or sparkling water,” Davis said.

 

Evans recorded a few albums with bass players and drummers around New York and then, in 1959, discovered the young bass player Scott LaFaro, who played the bass as if it were a guitar, freely and melodically, rather than dutifully and as a blue-collar obligation. Paul Motian, a poetic, brushes-and-silver-high-hat drummer, joined them, and what is usually called “the first trio” was born. They made a very good record together, “Portrait in Jazz” – all their album titles tried to hit a slightly Lane Coutell, suede-elbow-patches note then seen as “intellectual” – and, in 1960, they went on the road.

 

Orrin Keepnews produced both Vanguard records, and on June 25th forty years later he happened to be staying at the Algonquin (jazz impresarios of his vintage maintain a high regard for the Algonquin), and he settled down in the lobby to talk. In his late seventies, he lives now in San Francisco, where he still produces jazz recordings. He is a small, burly bear of a man, still wearing a fifties bongos-and-beatniks goatee. He is also a world-champion digresser, sending out long skeins of words, which bend back and dissolve into the previous ones.

 

“To understand that day you have to understand this about the time: jazz was a prevalent music, but it wasn’t a popular music,” he said. “People read about it and talked about it and it got written about, and you could hear the occasional hit – a ‘Take Five’ – on AM radio, but basically it didn’t sell. If a record sold a few thousand copies, we were quite pleased. On the Sunday, I was working dials and worrying about the power outages – we had one early – and the rest of the time I was worrying about Bill. What was striking about Bill from the beginning wasn’t the quality of his playing – there were a lot of good players – but the quality of his self-criticism. He was always genuinely ready to learn. The trouble with Bill – and, as much as anything, that was the cause for our deciding to record him live – was always persuading Bill to play at all. He had very low self-esteem. That’s what drew him to Scott. Scott was already a rumor even before he was a whisper – everyone had heard of this phenomenal bass player, and when they started working together what was clear from the first was that Bill had something very different in mind from the normal interplay of piano with bass. Most so-called trio records are just an accompanied piano player – the bass player’s function is to emancipate the pianist’s left hand. Bill was looking for something very different – a joined-together kind of thing.

 

“We chose Sunday because we knew that we had two shows, the afternoon matinee and the evening show, and we would have both. Live recording was pretty much in its infancy. Today, you’d have a van with a studio inside, but we just had portable Ampex equipment, which I think we lined up by the banquette. Bill was tough, of course. Even after we had made the first record with the trio, he didn’t believe that he had enough to express. He was brutally self-critical. I used to joke about forming a Demon Band of musicians who never thought they were good enough, never thought they had got it right. The Demon Band would have included Sonny Rollins on sax, J.J. Johnson on trombone, Wes Montgomery on guitar, and Bill on piano. It seemed to have an inordinate number of my musicians. Finally, I realized that the Demon Band could never really exist, because we could never find a drummer. No drummer suffers from self-doubt.”

 

 

Paul Motian is a drummer. Though he is seventy, he looks twenty-five years younger, kept limber, it seems, by the constant doses of the hipster skepticism proper to a jazz musician of his generation. He still plays regularly and will have a date at the Vanguard this month, and is looking for a publisher for his autobiography, “We Couldn’t Find Philadelphia.” He has kept his “gig books,” recording where he played and how much he got, for the last forty-five years.

“We were great,” he said that weekend, at a Hungarian strudel-and-coffee spot on Amsterdam Avenue. “But look at this – I got one hundred and thirty-six dollars for the famous legendary record, one hundred and ten for the gig, and one hundred and seven for the second record.”

 

“Look at the gig book: here we are at the D.C. Showplace. That’s where Bill said, first night, second night, ‘Ladies and gentlemen – I don’t feel like playing tonight. Can you understand that?’ And they kind of did. Bill was sincere, and he had a great sense of humor. He was good, but I was good with him, you know, because I listened. We listened to each other, and you can still hear us listening when we play. Scott was tough on Bill. He was the one man who could be tough on Bill. Like if he didn’t think the music sounded right – if it was great but not perfect – he’d say to Bill, ‘Man, you’re just fucking up the music. Go look at yourself in the mirror!’ He’d even say it to me, when he didn’t think I was playing right. And he had only been playing the bass for a few years.

 

“O.K., here’s May, two weeks in Detroit, then in Toronto, and then here comes June, and there we are, booked at the Vanguard. Then I remember we were in Philadelphia and somebody said to us, ‘Hey, you know, they’re imitating the way you guys sounded in Detroit!’ Imitating the way we sounded in Detroit! I knew then something was happening. Imagine people imitating the way you sounded in Detroit!”

 

Paul Motian and Orrin Keepnews had a clear memory of the afternoon, but what they remembered was work, not art: dials that rose and fell, and money counted out in three figures. Lorraine Gordon is the widow of Max Gordon, who invented the Vanguard. She helped run it then and still takes reservations for the club, and on the anniversary Sunday she was where she ought to be, and that was on the phone. “Vanguard. Yes, reservations are recommended. What if you have to cancel? You have to cancel.” She hung up. “We’re blessed, you know, because a Japanese tourist service makes regular visits. They love the idea of the Vanguard and, of course, they love jazz.

 

“In 1961, everything was changing, because of television,” she said. “When Max opened the Vanguard, it was a place for poets. It was a speakeasy, a theater after that, but it always had the same wedge shape. It was only in the late fifties that it became a jazz club. Sundays for us was a time when we had a relaxed crowd. And Max had a Steinway, which was replaced by a Yamaha, which Bill loved. Of course, I remember, was it that gig or the next, when Bill’s left arm was paralyzed and he played anyway, balling a fist and bringing his hand banging down from the force of gravity.”

 

Lorraine Gordon did not have to explain this image. Evans was, for most of his life, a drug addict. Lorraine Gordon saw him banging the left side of the keyboard with a paralyzed hand because he had been shooting up heroin and hit a nerve. “He’d been a junkie for a couple of years by then, and I had to slip him a few dollars,” Keepnews said later. “I’m his friend, I’m his record company, I’m his producer. People say to me, ‘Why couldn’t you refuse him?’ Look, he was going to find the money, junkies do, and I wasn’t worried about him mugging someone in an alley. I was worried about him owing money to someone who would break his fingers if he didn’t pay it back. So I advanced him money, and I refuse to think that I was doing anything wrong.”

 

Paul Motian says, “‘I think I could play better’ – that was what you always heard him saying, whatever he was thinking of trying, a hypnotist, a psychotherapist. Maybe he took drugs because he thought it made his music better.” It is equally sadly possible that the dreamy, otherworldly quality of Evans’s playing that day had something to do with what was flowing in his veins.

 

 

On that Sunday afternoon in New York in 1961, the trio played five sets, about two and a half hours’ worth of music. The numbers ran between five and ten minutes a turn. In the first three sets, knowing that the machines were running, they didn’t repeat numbers, playing a lilting “Waltz for Debby,” a hushed “My Foolish Heart,” a floating ‘Alice in Wonderland,” and an up-tempo “My Romance.” Then, for the first time that day, Evans played “I Loves You, Porgy.” In the last set, they ran back over numbers from the first few sets. By then, it was late, a long day’s hard work, and they finished with a number by LaFaro, a strange 9/8 Zen thing called “Jade Visions.” Throughout the recordings, you hear the crowd noise: glasses tinkle and conversation goes on, a counterpoint of forty-year-old flirtation and talk. Orrin Keepnews said, “I remember listening to the tapes and saying, ‘There’s nothing bad here!’ Normally, you can cut one or two things right away, and there was nothing bad.”

 

Two weeks later, on July 6, 1961, Scott LaFaro was driving up Route 20, a back road in those days, to his parents’ place in Geneva, upstate. The car skidded and hit a tree, and he was killed instantly. “I was sleeping and the phone rang, and it was Bill,” Paul Motian recalled. “He said, ‘Scott’s dead.’ And I said, ‘Yeah,’ and I went back to sleep. And the next morning I said to my wife, ‘Man, I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamed that Bill called me and said that Scott had been killed!’ So I called Bill right away at that apartment over on West Eighty-something to tell him about the dream.”

 

After Scott LaFaro’s death, Bill Evans became numb with grief; it took him months to recover, and there are people who think that he never did recover. Paul Motian: “Bill was in a state of shock. Look at my gig book: nothing, nothing, nothing with Bill, until December. Bill was like a ghost.”

 

“All jazz records,” Orrin Keepnews said, “have two lives, one in their time and another twenty-two years later. What no one could have imagined was that the second life would be so large.”

 

Why has that afternoon lasted so long? “You know what I like best on that record?” Paul Motian asked. “The sounds of all those people, glasses and chatter – I mean, I know you’re supposed to be very offended and all, but I like it. They’re just there and all.” Perhaps that’s it, or part of it. Though we’re instructed to search for “timelessness” in art, it is life that is truly timeless, the same staggeringly similar run of needs and demands and addictions, again and again, which blend one year into the next and one day into another and February’s gig in Detroit into March’s in Toronto. It is art that puts a time in place. Art is the part of culture that depends most entirely on time, on knowing exactly when. The emotions it summons belong to the room they were made in, and the city outside the room when they were made. Not a timeless experience of a general emotion but a permanent experience of a particular moment – that is what we want from jazz records and Italian landscapes alike. The gift the record gives us is a reminder that the big sludgy river of time exists first as moments. It gives us back our afternoons.

 

 

One of the mysteries of Evans’s career is that, after that Sunday, he continued to play “Porgy” over and over again, almost obsessively – but almost always as a solo number. Paul Motian gave this some thought. “I don’t think there was any reason – no, wait, I remember something now. While we were listening to that number on the tape, Bill was a wreck, and he kept saying something like ‘Listen to Scott’s bass, it’s like an organ! It sounds so big, it’s not real, it’s like an organ, I’ll never hear that again.’ Could that, his always playing it without a bass afterwards have been a sort of tribute to Scott? I kind of doubt it, but then again maybe so.” When we hear Evans play “Porgy,” we are hearing what a good Zen man like Evans would have wanted us to hear, and that is the sound of one hand clapping after the other hand is gone.

 

 

Lenfest Plaza: The Embodiment of Philadelphia

By: Matthew White

Walking south on Broad Street heading to center city in Philadelphia one cannot help but notice a paintbrush piercing the sky as city hall falls in behind it as a perfect background.  This paintbrush is a blue 51-foot sculpture raised at a 60 degree angle and it almost looks as if it is painting the sky.  This brush is accompanied by a 6-foot tall glob of paint on the ground that is an orange red color and as night falls both the top of the brush and the paint illuminate and light up the night.  This sculpture is named The Paint Torch and it provides the entrance into Lenfest plaza.  The plaza is located on Cherry Street in between Carlsile Street and Broad Street. As one walks down Lenfest Plaza they are accompanied be the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts directly to the right of the right. This academy was the first school and museum of art in America.  A historical and visually pleasing building, Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts presents a perfect shield to the rest of the city and makes one feel as if they are in a world are their own. Both of these pieces of art truly represent Philadelphia through art, but first lets look at the rest of the plaza.

When walking down the plaza a huge sculpture of a crashing plane lays directly in the middle of the walkway. This sculpture is a true piece of art, but it is not only that, it is also a functioning green house.  Grumman’s green house is a previous Cold War S2F combat plane that has been transformed and remade into a functioning green house.  This sculpture has been transformed to look as if it is a plane crash happening right before your eyes with the left wing bent and disfigured and the nose of the pain heading directly into the ground, it makes for a very interesting piece for one to wrap their brain around.    This plaza does not only incorporate the museum and sculptures but it also incorporates performing arts with a stage located in the front of the plaza.  This stage is free to use at any time by any performer and truly amazing hme grown talents will be seen there from time to time if you happen to walk by at the right moment.  Along with all of these features, Lenfest plaza is suited with some flowing benches that lay parallel to Cherry Street and with these the plaza is complete with a feel of relaxation and excitement all at the same time.  Lenfest plaza has some great pieces of art and history incorporates with it but there is some deeper meaning behind all of it. Lenfest Plaza truly embodies the feel and culture of Philadelphia through art and it does this in a number of ways.

The Paint Torch

The Paint Torch is a significant piece of art not only for its visual purposes but also for its meaning and its relationship to the city of Philadelphia  and also to Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts.  There are two meanings behind The Paint Torch and the first is the paintbrush itself.  Claes Oldenburg the world-renowned artists who created the paint torch designed this piece to be in the precise location it sits now (Lenfest Plaza).  With the location being what it is the brush signifies the importance of art in the community of Philadelphia and in the academy that accompanies it.  Oldenburg wanted to create a piece like this in a place where art matters and where the art of painting with a brush is actually practiced (Lenfest Plaza).  He did both with his sculpture of The Paint Torch, simply because it resides in the art district of Philadelphia.  Not only that but as stated before it lies next to the Pennsylvania Institute of Fine arts and painting with a brush is taught, practiced and displayed there every day.

The Paint Torch is not only a symbol for painting with a brush and a piece that signifies art, but it is also one that makes a much greater statement then that.  The torch illuminates at night and with this illumination it signifies a few things in relation to the culture of Philadelphia.  First it signifies the first true place of art in the new world.  The illumination is almost a highlight of the Pennsylvania Institute of Fine Arts showing what it is, where it is, and most importantly the history of it as the first school and museum of art this Philadelphia, and all of America.  The torch is not only a symbol of the first art institute of America bit is also signifies liberty and freedom.  Much like the torch of the Stature of Liberty, the light of The Paint Torch signifies liberty to the nation and is a true signifier of Philadelphia culture and history (Lenfest Plaza).  As a key leader to America’s independence, Philadelphia has always been a crucial city for liberty, dating all the way back to the signing of the Declaration of Independence.  The paint torch embodies this idea perfectly with its bright torch and paint glob showing true liberty and independence while relating to the city’s history of freedom. Oldneburg did a fantastic job with this piece of art, and it serves as a gateway to the rest of the plaza perfectly.

The Academy

The Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts is also a huge part of Lenfest plaza.  With its origins in 1805, painter Charles Wilson Peale and sculptor William Rush funded the academy as the first academy of fine arts in the nation.  When walking east to west down the plaza the Academy is located on the right and the building that stands today was designed and created in 1876 by the American architects Frank Furness and George W. Hewitt (History and Timeline).  The art academy trained many prominent American artist including Tomas Ekakins, Mary Cassatt, Maxfeild Parrish, John Marin, Charles Demuth and many more (History and Timeline).  The Academy is a large landmark in not only Philadelphia but mainly in the art sector of Philadelphia.  It marks the beginning of museum mile, which incorporates the Philadelphia art Museum, the Rodin exhibit and many more.  This building is a huge part of Philadelphia culture and of Lenfest Plaza.  It continues to teach arts and continues to show art exhibitions and pieces.  Many people travel far to see this Academy and the history of it cannot be overstated.  The fact that Lenfest Plaza is located directly next to it and the fact that it completely incorporates the academy is a blessing in disguise. It gives the Plaza a much greater purpose and also allows it to relate to Philadelphia history and culture in a way that it never could without the academy.  The academy was the first of its kind and it is surely going to continue producing and showing great artists and pieces of art, but most importantly it will continue to add culture and texture to Lenfest Plaza as long as both are still around.

The Gruman Greenhouse

Another sculpture in the plaza is a direct exhibit of the changing culture of Philadelphia both artistically and environmentally.  The Grumman Greenhouse as stated before is a sculpture of a crashing plane located on the west end of Lenfest plaza.  It is not only a sculpture, but it is also a greenhouse and it shows the ever changing way that art can be used in practical ways as well as adding to and exhibiting Philadelphia culture.  As one of two functioning greenhouses as pieces of art in Philadelphia, The Grumman Greenhouse shows that art can still be beautiful and meaningful and still serve a purpose.  The fact that it is one of two of its kind in Philadelphia, the other being a 125 mini greenhouse art piece in the American Philosophical Society Museum in Philadelphia, shows that the culture of the city is beginning to change into a more environmentally friendly culture and that it will continue to do so (125 Jewel-Colored Mini-Greenhouses).  The sculpture itself is environmentally friendly as it is a recycled Cold War S2F combat plane (Grumman Greenhouse).  The plane has completely been gutted out and everything inside has been removed.  It has also been turned on its nose and now looks like the plane is literally crashing into the ground in front of one’s eyes.  The planes left wing is not bent and moved as well as the cockpit to make it look like the plane is falling apart and its passengers are doomed.  The fact of the matter is, there are no true passengers that are doomed but a much different thing occupying the inside.  The plane is now equipped with florescent growing lamps as well as plants harvested and sold in local markets plane (Grumman Greenhouse).  This new biosphere is a wonderful play on art and the practical use it can play.  The sculpture was originally only supposed to be placed there for one year but the contract for the piece has been renewed until the end of 2013 at least and possibly longer.  This 25 foot sculpture and biosphere will continue to create enthusiasm and foster new innovation wherever it may go but with its environmental impact and embodiment of Philadelphia culture one can only hope it will remain in Lenfest Plaza permanently.

The Culture  

The culture of the Plaza does not only rely on the art that is presented in it as sculptures and Academy’s but it also incorporates performing arts as well.  Lenfest plaza is equipped with a stage for performing acts to utilize and broadcast their music over.  With small performances from time to time Lenfest Plaza shows that Philadelphia culture does not have to be shown on a big scale but can be shown in just a few hours by local talents performing on their stage.  The stage incorporates the culture of Philadelphia almost as much as the sculptures if not more simply because it shows the people of Philadelphia and what they can create in artistic ways.  What is shown and performed on the stage is a great testament to the diversity and artistic ability of Lenfest Plaza as well as a great encapsulation of Philadelphia culture.  The Plaza is not only home to a stage but it is also home to some outdoor seating to the restaurant located on the bottom floor of the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts.  This also shows that Philadelphia culture is embodied in the plaza because it is not just art shown it is also the food that is being eaten in a certain place that helps define the culture there.  With Philadelphia food and Philadelphia music, Lenfest Plaza could not be a better representation of Philadelphia culture and history.

Lenfest plaza is a great place to visit to get a taste of Philadelphia, literally and figuratively.  With its 51-foot tall sculpture named The Paint Torch and its 25-foot tall sculpture named Grumman Greenhouse, along with The Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts and the performances and food served there, it completely embodies Philadelphia culture.  As long as Lenfest Plaza is still around there will always be a place to view Philadelphia through art.

Works cited

“125 Jewel-Colored Mini-Greenhouses Spring up in Philadelphia | Inhabitat – Sustainable Design Innovation, Eco Architecture, Green Building.” Inhabitat Sustainable Design Innovation Eco Architecture Green Building 125 JewelColored MiniGreenhouses Spring up in Philadelphia Comments. N.p., n.d. Web. 26 Oct. 2013.

“Grumman Greenhouse.” Home. N.p., n.d. Web. 26 Oct. 2013.

“History and Timeline.” Home. N.p., n.d. Web. 26 Oct. 2013.

“Lenfest Plaza.” Home. N.p., n.d. Web. 26 Oct. 2013.

“The Art Newspaper.” The Art Newspaper. N.p., n.d. Web. 3 Dec. 2013. <http://www.theartnewspaper.com/articles/Oldenburgs-eternal-flame/24674>.

“OLIN: blog » Philadelphia Inquirer Praises PAFA Lenfest Plaza Design.”OLIN: blog » Philadelphia Inquirer Praises PAFA Lenfest Plaza Design. N.p., n.d. Web. 3 Dec. 2013. <http://www.theolinstudio.com/blog/philadelphia-inquirer-praises-pafa-lenfest-plaza-design/>.

“Grumman Greenhouse by Jordan Griska.” Flickr. Yahoo!, 26 Nov. 2011. Web. 3 Dec. 2013. <http://www.flickr.com/photos/markluethi/

“With Art Philadelphia.” ™ – Curate Your Own Experience – withart.visitphilly.com. N.p., n.d. Web. 3 Dec. 2013. <http://withart.visitphilly.com/museums-attractions/lenfest-plaza/>.

“Philadelphia and the Countryside – Press Room.” Lenfest Plaza. N.p., n.d. Web. 3 Dec. 2013. <http://press.visitphilly.com/media/3483>.

John F. Collins: A Man and His Park

By: Justin Pospieck

Center City, Philadelphia (Image via FineArtAmerica.com)

John F. Collins Park entrance (Image via PlanPhilly.com)

Take a moment to envision the heart of Center City, Philadelphia’s business and shopping epicenter. Block after block of shop after shop call to customers. Liberty One and Two loom overhead, almost keeping watch over the countless people shuffling up and down the blocks. The 1700 block of Chestnut Street is perhaps the quintessential Center City street. The Di Bruno Bros. gourmet food shop offers two floors of delicacies from around the world for sale to hungry shoppers. Buffalo Exchange gives a second life to old wardrobes as people wait in line to trade in their clothing (and others wait in different lines to purchase such clothing). The bright white walls of Sephora shine through the wide-windowed storefront, showing off row upon row of any kind of makeup imaginable. Somehow, in the middle of this cacophony of consumerism, there remains an escape.

In passing, it could be easy to simply walk right by John F. Collins Park. Set back a few feet from the storefronts that border it, the park is partially disguised by the greenery growing within it; leaves greet you at the front gate and seemingly shoot out in every direction from there. But upon pausing for a closer inspection, the space can be almost immediately defined as welcoming. Cement benches afford the opportunity to rest one’s tired feet, while sets of tables and chairs offer a bit more room to get some work done, eat lunch or dinner, or simply catch up with friends. Tall trees that reach heights much further than the surrounding buildings keep watch over the park and give a sense of just how far the plant life could reach if it weren’t contained to this little location. Almost the antithesis of Central Park in New York City, John F. Collins Park offers up as much as possible within the limits of its locale. A fountain in the center of the park provides an added calming touch, with a pool of water perfectly suited for any birds who happen to be enjoying the park as well. This park is relatively new, only a few decades old. However, it has recently undergone a rebranding, an important milestone in the park’s history as a celebration of the person behind it. The renaming reflects the importance of both the park’s creator and the park’s continuation of a storied city tradition of parks and green space.

When Center City Took Shape    

As Philadelphia fleshed itself out and the city began to grow, the area around where John F. Collins Park now sits became an empire of the nation’s flourishing capitalism. Storefronts, corporations, and business have been (and still are) the fuel that powers the area now known as Center City. Only about one block away from

Sofitel Hotel (Image via BarbaraCampagna.com)

John F. Collins Park sits a former site of the Philadelphia Stock Exchange that called the building home from 1966 to 1969. At that time, The Great Depression had long since ended and the American military-industrial complex was waist-deep in the trenches of Vietnam. Along with the bombs, business was booming. Currently the site of the posh Sofitel hotel, the structure at 17th and Sansom was home to all of the major financial transactions in the city. At the same time, John F. Collins was just starting the journey that would have him bestow many lasting gifts to our community.

An Architectural Star Is Born

Born on July 12, 1936, in Norristown, PA, John Francis Collins was one of seven children. Not surprisingly John fought for a way to separate himself from the pack, and found an outlet in agriculture. With his mother working as an art teacher, he grew up with a strong sense of creativity. He found himself able to combine that with his passion for agriculture and as early as the age of 15, he took the initiative of founding his own nursery in the backyard of his parents’ Conshohocken house, just outside the modern city limits of Philadelphia. At 15, Collins was hard at work planting and pruning for the benefit of those in the neighborhood. Balancing his passion with his education, he maintained his scholastic prowess well into college when he graduated from Pennsylvania State University. After earning his bachelor’s degree, Collins set out to receive his Master’s from Harvard. He did so in 1962, receiving a Master’s in Landscape Architecture. Upon returning to Philadelphia after spending time in Italy (an opportunity awarded by Harvard for his achievements within their institution), Collins wasted little time in working toward turning his architectural dreams for Philadelphia into realities.

From the Ground Up

Three Bears Park (Image via PhiladelhiaPlaneto.com)

One of his earliest projects came about in 1963, when he designed the brick pathways that meander between the homes of Society Hill, a project commissioned by illustrious Philadelphia city planner Ed Bacon. The pathways, decked with tall trees and lush vegetation, worked to serve residents and passers-through alike in offering them an alternate way of moving through the neighborhood, clear of stop signs and busy traffic. This seemingly revolutionary concept (at least for a city like Philadelphia) was just an inkling as to what John F. Collins hoped to bestow upon the city. In 1965, Collins unveiled his first green space for Philadelphia not too far away from greenways unveiled just two years earlier. Delancey Park, now known as Three Bears Park, offers up more of the John F. Collins style seen in the greenways and the park which now bears his name. Lush greenery envelops the location. Large trees encircled by brick keep watch of the children playing underneath, as this park features a swing set and jungle gym, providing for a park-playground hybrid. Deep brown bricks serve as the footing on which the park rises, keeping the earthy theme as seen in Collins’ work. Currently a small statue of three bears serves as a focal point of the park, giving it not only a new name but a visual representation of the environment John F. Collins set out to create with all of his spaces; an outdoor area rich in foliage meant to serve as a meeting place for anyone and everyone nearby. The warmth and comfort originating from Delancey Park would soon be replicated not too far away, closer to the center of the city, on Chestnut Street.

More Park, Less Lot

John F. Collins Park (Image via LandscapeOnline.com)

It was in 1977 when Philadelphia philanthropist Dorothy Haas announced her plans for a new park to be created in Center City. Shortly before this announcement, she visited New York City and found herself taken by a small urban park known as Paley Park. Opened in 1967, the 4,200 square foot space made its impression through use of small furniture and plentiful greenery accompanied by a towering waterfall adorning the back wall of the pocket park. So struck by this oasis, she became determined to recreate it back home in Philadelphia. Able to acquire a plot of land which was at the time being used as a parking lot, Haas unveiled a competition asking for Philadelphians’ best renderings of what type of park they would like to see take over the space. As it would turn out, John F. Collins submitted the winning renderings, giving birth to Chestnut Park. Officially opened in 1978, Chestnut Park’s biggest difference from its New York City inspiration was the fact that though it was similarly bordered on two sides by pre-existing structures, it’s two remaining sides were open, stretching from street to street (in this case, Chestnut and Ranstead Streets). This helped the park achieve a sense of depth unattainable by Paley Park. This depth is cleverly masked by wrought iron gates on either end of the park, designed by Christopher Ray. In 2011, the park received a number of upgrades. New cement entryways were installed at the entrances, and the gates were restored and complimented with iron figures of animals and vegetation native to the region. The benches were upgraded and the central fountain was restored, but perhaps the biggest change to the park was its name. Almost thirty years after it opened,

Park Rules & Regulations (Image via Temple.edu)

Chestnut Park was renamed in honor of the man who not only reshaped a seemingly meager plot of land in Center City, but whose work to achieve a more inviting city can be found across the whole of the cityscape.

The Man Behind the Plans    

John F. Collins (Image via Temple.edu)

Aside from his physical structures, John F. Collins also bestowed upon Philadelphia a strong philosophical and emotional benefit. Humble and thoughtful, when funding grew thin for Chestnut Park, he took it upon himself (along with his wife and children) to work to maintain the park, clearing debris and pruning the shrubbery. He initiated a work release program that allowed area prisoners time out from behind prison walls to tend to greenery along the banks of the Schuylkill River. Though on a smaller scale, this program continues to exist today. He spread his intellectualism when he lectured area schoolchildren about native vegetation and took his passion to a collegiate level when, in 1988, he helped found the Landscape Architecture and Horticultural Department at the Ambler, PA campus of Temple University. While there, he helped shape the department into one nationally recognized for their excellence, and locally recognized year after year at the Philadelphia Flower Show. Collins kept pace at Temple University up until 1998, when he chose to retire. Upon his retirement, Collins returned to his residence in Glenside, PA where, much like the 15-year-old Collins, he maintained the Collins Nursery, specializing in making sure native area vegetation maintained a presence in the area. Collins died from complications related to Parkinson’s disease on August 5th, 2011.

A Lasting Legacy

As the world around us changes, it is important to have some familiarity to ground us. In a whirlwind of development, it is important to have a place of reflection. John F. Collins recognized this and attempted to achieve it through his work. He was a master of taking any given location and breathing new life into it. Three Bears Park gave Queens Village families a safe new playground hidden away from surrounding busy city streets. His pioneering efforts with the Schuylkill River Trail laid the foundation for the grand promenade we now have today. With a southern extension just completed and a “boardwalk” section that will reach out over the Schuylkill River in the midst of construction, John F. Collins’ vision lives on in myriad ways. Not just in developers and city planners who recognized the brilliance in connecting the city with its waterway, but also in the countless people found along the pathway; joggers, bikers, dog walkers, fishers, clusters of kids up to who-knows-what, all together sharing space along the Schuylkill River. This same concept can be applied to the park which now bears his name.  John F. Collins Park is a crossroads for the many types of people who call Center City home (even if just for a few hours every day). Business folks in suits, shoppers trekking from store to store, youths out of school (be it because of the school bell or an unlocked door) exploring the excitement of the city; everyone is welcome. With Philadelphia known colloquially around the world as “the city of brotherly love”, John F. Collins masterfully encompasses this concept into his works. In a cultural climate that works to portion off everybody into easy to define quadrants (poor, rich, hipster, conservative, black, white, etc. ad nauseam) John F. Collins Park works to break down and negate any kind of dividing lines we might draw between ourselves. In the park, we are all in awe of the beauty that surrounds us. We are collectively amazed at the majesty contained in this otherwise mundane block. Visitors to John F. Collins Park are too enamored with calm beauty to even consider the ways that separate us. In planning out Philadelphia, William Penn created four different plots of green space equidistant from Center Square (where City Hall sits today) meant to serve as unofficial borders; reminders of pure land free from human interruption. To this day, sprawling Fairmount Park sits as a  massive testament to the founding principles of our city. However, tucked into a tiny former parking lot in the heart of Center City, John. F. Collins Park accomplishes just the same.

The Fountain at John F. Collins Park (Image via TheLightingPractice.com)

Helium Comedy Club

Helium Comedy Club: A Place Like No Other

By: Olivia Katulka

Helium Comedy Club: One Like No Other

As you sit at your (please choose one)….

1. Computer

2. Smartphone

3. Tablet

4. Other

…You are probably contemplating how you will be spending your night. Let me guess. A bar. You and your friends are going to get over dressed and pack yourselves into a bar and wait 30 minutes for a measly domestic draft. Have fun with that. Let me recommend something a bit less mainstream.

What is Helium Comedy Club?

Helium Comedy Club has always been around to provide laughter for the Philadelphia community. It is located in the heart of center city at 20th Street and Sansom Street where all of the hustle and bustle goes on. The night life of Philadelphia is swarmed by night clubs and local dives. But if you can see past the Happy Hour specials and bumping house music, you can find a tiny, hole-in-the wall with laughter roaring from its door. 

Upcoming Events

Well Helium has struck again. This Wednesday, some of Helium’s finest will be hitting the stage. Headlining is Setoiyo Ebko, a Columbia, OH native who came to Philadelphia to pursue his comedy career. The show starts at 8:00 P.M. and only costs $5 per person. So bring your boyfriend, girlfriend, even your mom! This entertainment is a one size fits all kind of deal! 

Are you convinced? You can wait until the weekend to spend your money on over-priced drinks and unimpressive service. Head to Helium Comedy Club and prepare yourselves for a night full of laughter and good memories with friends. 

I don’t think I even have to ask if you are going. See you there!

Love Park: A Symbol of Philadelphia

Cities all over the United States, and the world for that matter, have recognizable, buildings, statues, streets, and more that we see and immediately attribute to that specific place. These landmarks all have their own story and reason for why they have become a symbol for their city. Some classic United States landmarks include: the “Hollywood” sign in Los Angeles, the Statue of Liberty in New York City, the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, and the space needle in Seattle. The list carries on but I think we get the point. Philadelphia has its share of recognizable landmarks like the famous Art Museum steps where Rocky Balboa essentially planted his “planted his flag,” the Ben Franklin Bridge, City Hall, and, one of my favorites, “Love Park.” “Love Park,” as it is affectionately nicknamed because of the love statue, is officially called John F. Kennedy Plaza. For the past 4 years I have been living in Philadelphia and have not known anything about “Love Park” or its history until recently.

Some beautiful United States landmarks you may, or may not, be familiar with!

http://www.travelandleisure.com/articles/americas-most-beautiful-landmarks/23

 

Why do we care? What does it mean, exactly?

Landmarks can help people identify with the city they live in or, what many refer to as, “their” city. The John F. Kennedy Plaza, or “Love Park,” is an important landmark that people have gravitated to and can attribute to the city of Philadelphia. I believe that the love statue helps to symbolize the popular notion that Philadelphia is “the city of brotherly love.” While strolling through the plaza, I saw all sorts of people engaging in games, conversations, relaxation, and site seeing. What I saw in all those activities was love. Love for themselves, each other, and the city that brought them together. I will eventually talk more about the inhabitants of the park below. Before I even knew where this park was I had this image of the statue in my head. I had seen it all over the place associated with Philadelphia. Once I eventually stumbled upon it I felt like had been there before. I am happy that I have this chance to really think about the meaning of the park and learn more about its history.

Check out a little bit of background info if you’re interested!

http://www.ushistory.org/lovepark/history1.htm

 

Skateboard HAVEN…for a little while.

In the late 60s, kids from all different neighborhoods converged on the park to engage in socialization and in the mid-1980s skateboarders discover the park.

          The architecture of the park, including the different levels and curves, continuous granite surfaces, and the large space for sessions is what attracted skaters to the park. The park’s reputation grew and the nearby public transportation made it easily accessible for skaters all over the city and the surrounding suburbs. As the park grew into a skateboarding haven, people would visit to watch and be entertained by the sport, parents would bring their kids to play in the fountain, and it became a destination for the city’s youth to socialize and relax. The park brought people together because of the beautiful view of the parkway, the location, and, even though some came for slightly different reasons, there was space for everyone to enjoy. I think it is really important for people, in the city especially, to find common ground where there is tolerance and comradery. Cities are full of so many people with their own agendas and schedules and everyone is often just bumping into each other with very little acknowledgment to those around them. When a place such as “Love Park” arises and brings those same people together it is truly special. A place like that symbolizes brotherhood. Though it created positivity and creativity, skateboarding was eventually banned and those who were caught were slapped with a hefty fine. Even though the skateboarding movement in “Love Park” has passed, it is still a place where locals and tourists can gather, socialize, and enjoy the city.

So who’s chillin in Love Park now?

While making your way through the park you will find all sorts of locals and tourists making memories on a daily basis. I had the good fortune to speak with some of its inhabitants to gather their perspective on the park and what it means to them. Philadelphia native and businessman, Jason Caro, said, “It is a beautiful spot for me to relax on my lunch hour really close to work.” The park’s close proximity to many business professionals makes it a desirable place to get some fresh air during the long, and often grueling, workday. Caro even noted that he had spent some time in this park during his younger years hanging out with his friends.

I also spoke to several Philadelphia natives playing chess and card games in the late afternoon during this beautiful fall weather. One man, James Waters, said, “I have been coming here for years almost everyday to hang out with my friends. It is just what we do.” Whether it is during the lunch hour, after work, or on a day off locals engage in social stimulation within the confines of “Love Park” on a regular basis.

In addition to locals and business professionals, there are many tourists who make their way to the park to snap photos with the famous love statue. I, myself, am also guilty of taking a few photos in front of the love statue just last year. I managed to converse through some broken English with a few tourists from Switzerland who were getting their photo taken in front of the statue. Elias, from Basel, said, “I have been so excited to see America. I have been visiting many cities and Philadelphia is nice! My friends told me of the park after their travels and I wanted to get a photo also.” Elias, who was with his girlfriend of two years and his best friend from home even confided in me, explaining he thought about maybe proposing in front of the statue during the trip. It seems he may have decided to wait a little bit longer but the idea is there. It is in the minds of the public. Even I would be tempted at the idea of proposing to the woman I want to marry in front of the love statue. There is just something about it. Some sort of appeal that is a result of its physical characteristics and the power and symbolism this park now holds.

I also spoke to some tourists from Spain who are staying in Philadelphia for a couple of days to take in the sites and social life. Maria and Marcos saw the park in a movie and had planned on coming to see it since they started dating four years ago. “At first it was kind of a joke but over the years we kept bringing it up so I decided to plan the trip,” explained Marcos. Who knows, maybe Marco will even decide to propose during the trip.

The point is, this park has garnered notoriety all over the world and even more so to the locals of Philadelphia because it is a place of love, understanding, tolerance, and brotherhood. Many landmarks become landmarks because their physical characteristics are unprecedented or because of the beauty in their complexity. “Love Park” is much more than any of that. This park is not quite unbelievable or remarkable in any way. In fact, the fountains are mirrored and just a repetition of their counterparts, the statue, while really nice, isn’t profound or complex, and the architecture is not award winning or astonishing. The beauty of this park is in its simplicity and its location. “Love Park” has proven that an iconic landmark does not need to break any records or push any sort of boundaries to earn attention and appreciation. The love statue has become a beacon for people with open hearts to come and share their time together and the location makes it so easy to do so. 

What does the future of Love Park look like??

Take a look for yourself!

http://articles.philly.com/2013-07-12/news/40516521_1_love-park-capital-budget-garage       

Thanks for reading!

Anarchy in the PHL: The Wooden Shoe as an Anarchist Safe Space

If you don’t feel like spending ten minutes learning from a YouTube video the origins and the implications of the term “anarchy” – then you’ve come to the right blog. Anarchy has a long history in the United States as well as internationally, manifested through literature, philosophers, and resistances against the state. Anarchy has had a longstanding negative connotation, implying a chaotic, lawless nation. However, the truth about anarchy lies within the grassroots efforts of small communities not unlike the anarchist community that can be found in Philadelphia.

Anarchy is defined by the Meriam-Webster dictionary as “a situation of confusion and wild behavior in which the people in a country, group, organization, etc., are not controlled by rules or laws; a state of lawlessness or political disorder due to the absence of governmental authority.” The phrase, “some men just want to watch the world burn” is brought to mind at the thought. So, is it burning bridges, burning flags, burning capitals, the whole world burning? Is anarchy the complete disintegration of government, a world turned savage, a dog eat dog world?

I think not.

Back to the Meriam-Webster – read the extended definition of the word and you will find this: “a utopian society of individuals who enjoy complete freedom without government.” A utopia? That sounds nice. Freedom? Sounds good to me.

An artist’s rendition of a utopia – doesn’t look too shabby to me.

I suppose I ought to leave my preconceived notions at the door. Perhaps anarchy is not the fearsome doom that it’s cracked up to be. Unfortunately, even as tempting as this freedom loving, community based utopia is, anarchy is simply not a viable way to operate 310 million people. So it seems anarchy’s legacy is lost to the nooks and crannies of culture and society that it at one point occupied. 

But wait – perhaps anarchy is right down the block from you. Perhaps your very own neighbor is an anarchist. You think, Tim? Not Tim. It couldn’t be Tim! It’s Tim. Anarchists are not violent, masked thugs with a lust for destruction – rather, they’re individuals who subscribe to the notion that a community of individuals can operate based on the consensus of the members – you know, holding hands, singing Kumbaya, supporting one another – not murdering, stealing, or lying to one another. Maybe just because anarchy can’t exist on a nationwide scale doesn’t mean it can’t, or doesn’t, exist in smaller communities across the United States. Wouldn’t that be something?

Anarchy on South Street

Allow me to introduce you to the Wooden Shoe, an anarchist bookstore on 704 South Street right here in the city of brotherly love.

The Wooden Shoe.

Philadelphians and tourists walk down South Street day after day to get their daily dose of culture. This famed street is home to all sorts of interesting shops, people, and sights ranging from Abyssinia Culture Shop, Atomic City Comics, Condom Kingdom (exactly what you think it is), Mineralistic, and hundreds of other spots. South Street serves as a cultural hub for a culturally diverse city. 

The Wooden Shoe, it seems to me, is often overlooked by a large amount of people, for one of two reasons: either because it’s a bookstore or because of its anarchist affiliations. It’s a shop on South Street just like all the others, but it’s unlike it’s neighboring establishments for a multitude of reasons. The Wooden Shoe is a non-profit record store, bookstore, and infoshop – collectively run by a staff made up entirely of volunteers. When you walk in, there is no pressure to purchase anything – just a couple of friendly faces manning the counter, there to greet you as you walk in. You’re left to wander through the store’s impressive collection of records, books, journals, magazines, and other materials. The collection that the Wooden Shoe has is at times, distinctly anarchist, and at other times, indiscernibly mainstream. Their book collection ranges from obscure authors waxing philosophic to popular writers such as Michael Pollan.

The Wooden Shoe.

Beyond the vast collection of liberal and cultural literature, the Wooden Shoe acts as an anarchist safe space. While anarchy is misunderstood and deemed radical and anti-American in popular culture, anyone is welcome here and ideas are allowed to be freely expressed. This is what sets the bookstore apart from other locations. 

The Wooden Shoe’s History

So how did the Wooden Shoe end up at 7^th and South? The establishment has a rich history that reflects the struggle of a community grasping to an ideal that is not held by the mainstream; so how does a community hold fast to their beliefs when the opposition is so overwhelming? The collective was founded in 1976 in a different location at 112 South 20^th Street by a group of labor-oriented libertarian socialists. According to the Wooden Shoe’s history section on its website, “it was just a dark, nasty basement that was really cramped.” The store got its name from “a symbol of workers control, the sabot. French peasants often resisted early industrial capitalism by tossing their wooden shoes into the gears of a factory machine, in order to get a break after extremely long hours.”

A French Sabot, or wooden shoe.

The founding of the Wooden Shoe came just as the Vietnam War had come to an end and the culture of America was one of increased liberalism and opposition to war. The Civil Rights Movement, the Women’s Rights movement, and other social changes heavily influenced the growth of a collective of individuals interested in “something a little more tangible and solid to establish.” The Wooden Shoe did not begin as a strictly anarchist establishment but “sympathized with core principles of anarchism.” Originally, it was more of a socialist/communist group of individuals.

Here is where the story gets a little metaphorical – after two decades of dwindling interest in the store’s core beliefs and values, as well as the services they originally intended on providing, tragedy struck. Or perhaps, a miracle in disguise. On Ash Wednesday, February 12^th, 1997 the Wooden Shoe was set ablaze by an electrical fire. According to the Wooden Shoe’s website, “it is almost universally agreed upon that the burning down of the old Wooden Shoe was the best possible thing that could have happened to the declining organization.” Luckily, the store had an insurance policy that awarded them a large sum of money which led to the rebirth of the establishment. The new location, where the Wooden Shoe stands today, played a large role in the moderate success the store accomplished from then on out. South Street, being the cultural hot-spot that it is, attracted many more curious visitors, thus leading to a collective increasing in strength and numbers. So much like the concept of anarchy, the Wooden Shoe was burnt to the ground, and from its ashes rose a stronger community of like-minded people.

Anarchy in 2013

 

So in the year 2013, what does it even mean to be an anarchist? For a little context, we can reference what anarchy was in the past. In many cases, it manifested as a rebellion against oppressive governments. Anarchy as an idea can be traced to the French Revolution, the Russian Civil War, and even early American colonialists. And as can be seen from the case of the early Americans, anarchy doesn’t need to be specified for it to be a form of anarchy; anarchy, in short, is the desire of a community of people to live without a government that has only served to make their lives worse.

Fast forward to present time and your typical anarchist is not what you would expect. Though the ideology itself is radically different from the system that our country operates under, radical implies a certain craziness to the idea.

Though anarchy is no longer an easy ideology to put into practice, anarchists can make attempts to “buck the system” in a number of ways. Many of the services that the Wooden Shoe provides are in line with an anarchist agenda and help serve the community. On an individual basis, the collective seeks to instill values in its members that are of an anarchist nature, such as questioning “systems of oppression like racism, sexism, classism, heterosexism, ableism, and ageism within our own collective and in larger society.” The collective understands that there must be strength and unity of virtue within a small group before it can become a widely held belief. Once strength is established at a local level, the group may hope to influence those outside of the collective, such as the patrons who visit the Wooden Shoe on a daily basis. 

Beyond helping to foster a larger community of individuals dedicated to the proliferation of fighting powerful forms of systemic oppression, the Wooden Shoe hosts a number of programs monthly of varying topic to enlighten members of the collective as well as interested Philadelphians in important national and worldwide issues, ranging from the rampant stray cat problem in Philadelphia, to the problems of fracking for oil, to Food For All Collective Distros in which ethical food is distributed to those who want it. 

An event at the Wooden Shoe.

The anarchist community is not as small as one would think – in Philadelphia alone, there are several locations with anarchist ties, including the LAVA Space, A-Space, the anarchist print publication, Defenstrator, as well as other locations and and groups in the city.

All of these spaces are affiliated with one another and lead to a strengthened community. Anarchy is dependent on a community of likeminded individuals who believe in a common goal. Anarchy doesn’t work without cooperation and the sharing of values. 

Community, believe it or not, can, and does, exist throughout the world without a group of individuals at the top moderating the communities’ actions through political or governmental means. In an anarchist community, consensus is king – pun intended. The Wooden Shoe is one part of a larger community that holds a set of values and beliefs that are no longer a part of mainstream American culture. But you can rest assured that with such a tight-knit community that has ties to a larger global network of individuals who believe in the same thing, anarchy will never go away for sure – and let’s hope not. It may become an important ideology to hold to when the world really does burn. 

Lenfest Plaza of Philadelphia

Walking south on Broad Street heading to center city in Philadelphia one cannot help but notice a paintbrush piercing the sky as city hall falls in behind it as a perfect background.  This paintbrush is a blue 51-foot sculpture raised at a 60 degree angle and it almost looks as if it is painting the sky.  This brush is accompanied by a 6-foot tall glob of paint on the ground that is an orange red color and as night falls both the top of the brush and the paint illuminate and light up the night.  This sculpture is named The Paint Torch and it provides the entrance into Lenfest plaza.  The plaza is located on Cherry Street in between Carlsile Street and Broad Street. As one walks down Lenfest Plaza they are accompanied be the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts directly to the right of the right. This academy was the first school and museum of art in America.  A historical and visually pleasing building, Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts presents a perfect shield to the rest of the city and makes one feel as if they are in a world are their own. Both of these pieces of art truly represent Philadelphia through art, but first lets look at the rest of the plaza.

When walking down the plaza a huge sculpture of a crashing plane lays directly in the middle of the walkway. This sculpture is a true piece of art, but it is not only that, it is also a functioning green house.  Grumman’s green house is a previous Cold War S2F combat plain that has been transformed and remade into a functioning green house.  This sculpture has been transformed to look as if it is a plane crash happening right before your eyes with the left wing bent and disfigured and the nose of the pain heading directly into the ground, it makes for a very interesting piece for one to wrap their brain around.    This plaza does not only incorporate the museum and sculptures but it also incorporates performing arts with a stage located in the front of the plaza.  This stage is free to use at any time by any performer and truly amazing hme grown talents will be seen there from time to time if you happen to walk by at the right moment.  Along with all of these features, Lenfest plaza is suited with some flowing benches that lay parallel to Cherry Street and with these the plaza is complete with a feel of relaxation and excitement all at the same time.  Lenfest plaza has some great pieces of art and history incorporates with it but there is some deeper meaning behind all of it. Lenfest Plaza truly embodies the feel and culture of Philadelphia through art and it does this in a number of ways.

The Paint Torch

The Paint Torch is a significant piece of art not only for its visual purposes but also for its meaning and its relationship to the city of Philadelphia  and also to Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts.  There are two meanings behind The Paint Torch and the first is the paintbrush itself.  Claes Oldenburg the world-renowned artists who created the paint torch designed this piece to be in the precise location it sits now (Lenfest Plaza).  With the location being what it is the brush signifies the importance of art in the community of Philadelphia and in the academy that accompanies it.  Oldenburg wanted to create a piece like this in a place where art matters and where the art of painting with a brush is actually practiced (Lenfest Plaza).  He did both with his sculpture of The Paint Torch, simply because it resides in the art district of Philadelphia.  Not only that but as stated before it lies next to the Pennsylvania Institute of Fine arts and painting with a brush is taught, practiced and displayed there every day.

The Paint Torch is not only a symbol for painting with a brush and a piece that signifies art, but it is also one that makes a much greater statement then that.  The torch illuminates at night and with this illumination it signifies a few things in relation to the culture of Philadelphia.  First it signifies the first true place of art in the new world.  The illumination is almost a highlight of the Pennsylvania Institute of Fine Arts showing what it is, where it is, and most importantly the history of it as the first school and museum of art this Philadelphia, and all of America.  The torch is not only a symbol of the first art institute of America bit is also signifies liberty and freedom.  Much like the torch of the Stature of Liberty, the light of The Paint Torch signifies liberty to the nation and is a true signifier of Philadelphia culture and history (Lenfest Plaza).  As a key leader to America’s independence, Philadelphia has always been a crucial city for liberty, dating all the way back to the signing of the Declaration of Independence.  The paint torch embodies this idea perfectly with its bright torch and paint glob showing true liberty and independence while relating to the city’s history of freedom. Oldneburg did a fantastic job with this piece of art, and it serves as a gateway to the rest of the plaza perfectly.

The Academy

The Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts is also a huge part of Lenfest plaza.  With its origins in 1805, painter Charles Wilson Peale and sculptor William Rush funded the academy as the first academy of fine arts in the nation.  When walking east to west down the plaza the Academy is located on the right and the building that stands today was designed and created in 1876 by the American architects Frank Furness and George W. Hewitt (History and Timeline).  The art academy trained many prominent American artist including Tomas Ekakins, Mary Cassatt, Maxfeild Parrish, John Marin, Charles Demuth and many more (History and Timeline).  The Academy is a large landmark in not only Philadelphia but mainly in the art sector of Philadelphia.  It marks the beginning of museum mile, which incorporates the Philadelphia art Museum, the Rodin exhibit and many more.  This building is a huge part of Philadelphia culture and of Lenfest Plaza.  It continues to teach arts and continues to show art exhibitions and pieces.  Many people travel far to see this Academy and the history of it cannot be overstated.  The fact that Lenfest Plaza is located directly next to it and the fact that it completely incorporates the academy is a blessing in disguise. It gives the Plaza a much greater purpose and also allows it to relate to Philadelphia history and culture in a way that it never could without the academy.  The academy was the first of its kind and it is surely going to continue producing and showing great artists and pieces of art, but most importantly it will continue to add culture and texture to Lenfest Plaza as long as both are still around.

The Gruman Greenhouse

 

Another sculpture in the plaza is a direct exhibit of the changing culture of Philadelphia both artistically and environmentally.  The Grumman Greenhouse as stated before is a sculpture of a crashing plane located on the west end of Lenfest plaza.  It is not only a sculpture, but it is also a greenhouse and it shows the ever changing way that art can be used in practical ways as well as adding to and exhibiting Philadelphia culture.  As one of two functioning greenhouses as pieces of art in Philadelphia, The Grumman Greenhouse shows that art can still be beautiful and meaningful and still serve a purpose.  The fact that it is one of two of its kind in Philadelphia, the other being a 125 mini greenhouse art piece in the American Philosophical Society Museum in Philadelphia, shows that the culture of the city is beginning to change into a more environmentally friendly culture and that it will continue to do so (125 Jewel-Colored Mini-Greenhouses).  The sculpture itself is environmentally friendly as it is a recycled Cold War S2F combat plane (Grumman Greenhouse).  The plane has completely been gutted out and everything inside has been removed.  It has also been turned on its nose and now looks like the plane is literally crashing into the ground in front of one’s eyes.  The planes left wing is not bent and moved as well as the cockpit to make it look like the plane is falling apart and its passengers are doomed.  The fact of the matter is, there are no true passengers that are doomed but a much different thing occupying the inside.  The plane is now equipped with florescent growing lamps as well as plants harvested and sold in local markets plane (Grumman Greenhouse).  This new biosphere is a wonderful play on art and the practical use it can play.  The sculpture was originally only supposed to be placed there for one year but the contract for the piece has been renewed until the end of 2013 at least and possibly longer.  This 25 foot sculpture and biosphere will continue to create enthusiasm and foster new innovation wherever it may go but with its environmental impact and embodiment of Philadelphia culture one can only hope it will remain in Lenfest Plaza permanently.

The Culture  

The culture of the Plaza does not only rely on the art that is presented in it as sculptures and Academy’s but it also incorporates performing arts as well.  Lenfest plaza is equipped with a stage for performing acts to utilize and broadcast their music over.  With small performances from time to time Lenfest Plaza shows that Philadelphia culture does not have to be shown on a big scale but can be shown in just a few hours by local talents performing on their stage.  The stage incorporates the culture of Philadelphia almost as much as the sculptures if not more simply because it shows the people of Philadelphia and what they can create in artistic ways.  What is shown and performed on the stage is a great testament to the diversity and artistic ability of Lenfest Plaza as well as a great encapsulation of Philadelphia culture.  The Plaza is not only home to a stage but it is also home to some outdoor seating to the restaurant located on the bottom floor of the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts.  This also shows that Philadelphia culture is embodied in the plaza because it is not just art shown it is also the food that is being eaten in a certain place that helps define the culture there.  With Philadelphia food and Philadelphia music, Lenfest Plaza could not be a better representation of Philadelphia culture and history.

Lenfest plaza is a great place to visit to get a taste of Philadelphia, literally and figuratively.  With its 51-foot tall sculpture named The Paint Torch and its 25-foot tall sculpture named Grumman Greenhouse, along with The Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts and the performances and food served there, it completely embodies Philadelphia culture.  As long as Lenfest Plaza is still around there will always be a place to view Philadelphia through art.

Chocolate by the Bald Man

By Tedi Lowney

Tuesday, December 3rd, 2013

Outside Max Brenner’s Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney

On the 1500 Block of Walnut Street, just three blocks from City Hall in the more upscale side of town, you’ll see the trendy restaurant with bold, capital letters reading, “MAX BRENNER Chocolate by the Bald Man.” From the outside looking in, dainty white Christmas lights can be seen, strewn throughout the large and usually bustling combination restaurant-bar-and-shop. It looks almost like a year-round Christmas party; somehow at the same time exclusive looking, yet warm and inviting.

Inside, you’ll see that Max Brenner’s is at once a restaurant, bar, museum, and chocolate shop: a display of everything chocolate means to Brenner, and what he insists it mean to us. It’s hard to be in-and-out. If you don’t plan on spending, you’ll take twenty minutes just to soak up what’s around you. . .

      

Inside Max Brenner’s                                                     Bald Man Icon

Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney                                                       Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney

For the Love of Chocolate

Before you think this is just a gimmick, have the wait staff tell you the history and mission of the Bald Man, who is actually a symbol, based on two people: Max Fichtman and Oded Brenner. Brenner an Israeli writer who traveled to Paris in his youth and became an apprentice in a small chocolate and pastry shop. Paris is where he fell in love, and where this “chocolate love story” all started.

As you’ll see for yourself, this establishment is more than just brilliant branding – it embodies a philosophy that “Max Brenner”  wants to spread to the world. Indeed, for the bald man, chocolate is a pastime and an obsession.                                                                                                     Brenner Painting

                                                                                                                                         Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney

Oded’s work is not just in the recipes and on the menu. A writer and a dreamer, he and his partner wanted to start a movement and by accident, became the consummate marketers for the food that he loves. His design is on the walls and in frames-quotes, patterns, paintings – and appliances, books, tins, tee-shirts, and numerous novelty items.

With the first establishment in Israel (ALL of Max Brenner’s chocolate is imported from Israel), the movement has spread to Australia, Singapore, the Philippines…and now has dozens of locations globally, including six in the US: Philadelphia,  Las Vegas, Boston, and Bethesda, MD and two in New York City.

What Max Brenner wants the world to feel is that, “Chocolate is not just about the taste. It portrays contradictory aspects of our lives: Romance. Sensuality. Decadence. These aspects are the foundations of the new Max Brenner Chocolate Culture.”

When you’re there, you forget you’re in a restaurant, run by a company. You’re taking part in a story, a dream. And you leave with a lifestyle impression. That, I think is the goal of these two men. Not just to get people to spend money, but to restore good feelings and to deliver an immersive experience. Within the message of the magic of chocolate, Max Brenner reminds us to stop and smell the roses –  to hold onto our spirits. He does so by capturing our senses.

While this company has been a massively luxurious commercial success, it managed to keep this spirit alive. In fact, if it weren’t for this spirit to begin with, Max Brenner would not have become the global movement that it is today.

An Immersive Story: Multidimensional Branding

Indeed, the entire establishment is a craft, itself. It is about the Brenner experience, and the Brenner experience is about appealing to the senses and imagination, through his chocolate love story.

He makes sure there is plenty to look at and interact with, so as to (not so subtly) infuse sensuality and nostalgia into your visit:

From floor to ceiling, these walls are splashed with paintings by Brenner and friends, and silly sayings and quotes:

    

Authentic Artwork by Brenner and Friends 

                                                                                                                               Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney

The shop is filled with an overwhelming array of treats and novelty items, from chocolate cash tins to first aid kits for “Anonymous Chocoholics” :

      

Novelty Chocolate Treats

                                                                                                                            Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney

Above: Chocolate comes in syringes, test tube pills, and cigarette boxes. According to Max Brenner, “Chocolate represents contradictory aspects of our lives.” This is one of the mottos behind his chocolate culture.

At the same time, weaved into much of this chocolate “story” is the theme of childhood. You’ll pick up on Alice and Wonderland references, and recall Willy Wonka with the whimsical decor and the chocolate vats melting white, milk, and dark at the chocolate bar.

Chocolate Vats at the Chocolate Bar      Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney

Max Brenner Chocolate Bar           Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney

His customers, who are readers, viewers, and diners alike, are reminded to stop and savor – not only tastes but memories. Brenner feels that chocolate and nostalgia are inextricable. At the shop I found a small tin with the face of a child on it. A short memo describes a nighttime ritual between parent and child, hugging their mugs (Plug: Hug Mug). It reads, “I think to myself that once upon a time when I was small just like him, I knew more of the answers to the questions I know today.” Brenner asks the customer to slow down. He asks us to hold onto childhood.

The appliances and utensils, designed by Brenner himself, help to tell a chocolate story:

The Alice cup is “the ultimate milkshake cup,” which Brenner created with inspiration from the story, Alice in Wonderland. Down the side of this white glass reads, “DRINK ME,” referencing the small container that Alice finds after she falls down the rabbit hole, also reading “Drink Me.” The opening at the top is shaped in a crescent to mimic the smile of the Cheshire Cat.

                                      Novelty “Alice” Milkshake Cup

                                                                                          Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney

Suckao Cup     Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney

The Suckao is another utensil used in the restaurant and also for sale in the chocolate shop. It is the concentrated chocolate shot, “the espresso of chocolate drinks.” A short and round egg-shaped cup holds a tea light in the bottom and a shot – sized metal bowl atop the candle for no more than a piece of chocolate to melt.

“Suckao is made up of two words describing the utensil and the unique drinks : ‘Suck,’ inhaling the dense liquid through the metal tube; and ‘Kakao,’ the Spanish word for cocoa beans from which the pure chocolate drink is made and which determine its quality.”

Hug Mug      Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney

The Hug Mug is designed to appeal to the senses. Made of porcelain, and missing a handle, it is meant to be “hugged” between the hands, and will not get too hot to hold. It is tear-shaped rather than round, not just for aesthetic but also to waft the smell of the chocolate beverage up to your nose. The tear shape also keeps sugar from settling at the bottom by making the liquid swirl and flow from the bottom of the cup to the lip of the mug with each sip.

Kangaroo Saucer   Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney

Kangaroo Cup    Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney

The Kangaroo Cup is named for the small “pouch” along the lip of the cup meant to hold chocolate, which then melts and falls into the cup as it is warmed by the beverage inside. It comes with a two sided – the “Mix and Lick” – spoon. One side is for stirring the beverage and the other is for scooping/licking the chocolate remains in the pouch. The design is that of a chocolate lover – he wants the diner to enjoy every last drop.

Choco-centric: An Unusual Palette

Brenner may seem crazed. He has defied the convention of leaving dessert for last. You may be pleasantly surprised by the fried onion petals and chocolate-ranch dipping sauce!

Here we find creative tastes and unusual combinations arranged with the purposefully designed utensils. Chocolate dominates the many unusual dishes on the menu – deserts, entrées, and drinks alike. Indeed, those dining here come for a treat, and in an experimental mood. Frank Bruni of the New York Times talks about Max Brenner in his article, You Can Almost Eat the Dishes. Of Brenner, he says, “He’s audacious, not only taking advantage of chocolate’s known permutations but also finding new assignments for it. Chocolate subs for cream cheese on a bagel, for tomato sauce on a waxy “pizza,” for chicken stock in a so-called soup. The fullness of Max Brenner’s commitment to its theme is impressive and, at times, amusing” (NYTimes).

Chocolate Shop (Photo credit: Strauss Group)

Before sitting down, one must peruse the chocolate SHOP if not to purchase a souvenir, then to feel the awe of the Bald Man.  Sample the chocolate and learn ways it can be used that you were never aware of, and witness for yourself the clever presentation of chocolate as a commodity and brand. The shop is decked with an impressive collection, which perhaps seems even more bountiful because of the variety of packaging. Here we are so immersed  we forgive completely that we’re being sold. Once inside, I wholly believe in the “chocolate love affair,” beyond a marketing scheme. The toy tins, the “retro-packs,”  chocolate thins in what looks like a chocolate cigarette pack, mugs filled with chocolate waffle balls, chocolate appliances, and chocolate dispensers give the sense that I’m in a chocolate factory.

“A Chocolate Love Story” can be purchased at the restaurant for $25.99

Photo Credit: Tedi Lowney

65 wild recipes inside include:

Max Brenner Menu

Bohemian French Toast Chocolate Sandwitches

Military Porridge

Handsome Tiramisu

Kinky Pavlova

Innocent Meringue Kisses

Dependable Banana Cupcakes

Intimate Hungarian Crepes                                                

Alternative Milk Chocolate Mousse

Menu

Tacky Double Chocolate Fondue

Dreamy Warm Danish

Bad Boy Chocolate Pizza,

And many many more

 

Check out the “Sweets” menu, Food menu, and Kids “Secret Chocolate Menu,” here  

LOCATED AT:  1500 Walnut St, Philadelphia, PA 19102

References:

Bruni, Frank. “You Can Almost Eat the Dishes.” New York Times. 2 May 2007: n. page. Web. 22 Oct. 2013. <http://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/02/dining/reviews

The Grand Lodge of Philadelphia

The Masonic Temple of Center City Philadelphia

The Grand Lodge of Philadelphia

The main symbol that represents the Masons

            Through years, religions have been created to fulfill one of the most important needs for people: faith. Today, one of the most mysterious institutions that exists as an abstract spiritual goal is Freemasonry. It is believed that Freemasonry roots come from older eras because this initiative organization gave life to the mysteries of ancient Greek and Egypt and it is considered the only one that has survived in the modern west.  This institution is not part of any religion; however, Masons believe that only one god exists in the universe but people seek it in different ways. Therefore, Freemasonries pray to the “Grant Architect of the Universe” (God).   Their ceremonies are placed on temples called Masonic Temples or Lodges. There are many Masonic Temples around the world, mostly in the USA. The main Masonic Temple of Philadelphia is located at 1 North Broad Street, directly across from  City Hall at the center of the city. Even though Freemasonry is considered as a secret society, the Grant Lodge of Philadelphia is totally exposed in the middle of this city for easy access. Maybe there are more Masons in Philadelphia than people think. However, there exists signs that shows Freemasonry has always been in front our eyes, mostly in Philadelphia because it was the first city where Masons arrived in the USA. Also, Philadelphia is the city where many historical events happened that involved the people that may wanted to leave this fraternity on the naked eye of its citizens. In fact, secrecy over this fraternity may never have existed at all. It actually seems that there has always been more openness over this “secret society” than what people think. In other words, it seems that the Lodge located in Philadelphia is exposed to general people on purpose. Affirming this point, it will be necessary to understand what Freemasonry and Lodges are. The Freemasonry historical development at first in England the its spread in the USA, actions and events in the United States that involved important characters of the history, the different types of representation of Mason’s sings in the country and finally, how important the Masonic Temple of Philadelphia is to conclude this idea of Freemasonry as an open but never secret association. 

What Freemasonry is: 

Freemasonry is an institution of discrete character, founded on the ideology of equality, fraternity and liberty. This institution is based on four different ideologies. Philosophic because it drives man to the rational investigation of the natural law that drives human’s lives. Symbolic, because it represents the effort of thought by geometric symbols until the metaphysic abstraction.  Philanthropic because it practices the altruism, looking for the welfare of human kind, no matter race, gender or either religion. For example, there are many Masons who are Jewish, Christians, Indians, African Americans and so on. Finally, progressive because this institution practices solidarity and the absolute freedom of thoughts. In other words, Freemasonry looks for the truth, discarding fanaticism but putting in front human’s investigation, universal morality sowing culture and art as creations of human kind.

Where Freemasonry Comes From:

Although, the roots of the Masonic society started at England in 1717 at the hands of British Protestant pastors James Anderson and J. T. Desaguliers, followers of the spiritual movement inspired by Comenius, they quickly spread all around USA together with the installation of the Masonic temples that are also called Lodges. The Lodges are architectural structures where Masons organize their meeting and ceremonies. Today, there are many Lodges around the world thanks to the spread of this fraternal institution. However, the most flourishing lodges in the world are in the Unites States of America, which possesses four of the five million masons that are around the world, including a half million in England. After the colonization of the British Empire in North America, not only language but also mores and traditions were transferred from one continent to the other, including Freemasonry.

Philadelphia is the first city where Freemasonry began first during the colonization, which makes this city to be considered as the house of the first American masons. In fact, Philadelphia is the city where the Lodge of Saint John  was consecrate, which is considered the first Lodge in the Americas. Therefore, Philadelphia is the city where the history of the American Masonic started.

Henry Price, “The Father of American Freemasonry.”

Around 1730s, cities such as Massachusetts, Boston and mostly Philadelphia were occupied by Masonic lodges thanks to the Henry Price, “The Father of American Freemasonry.” This prestigious British man immigrated to the American Colonies in 1723 at 26 years old as a normal mason from England. However, during a visit back to his land in 1730, was named by the English Grand Lodge as Provincial Grand Master of New England, the authority next year will be extended to all of North America. The first news recorded about the organized lodges in the American colonies where Benjamin Franklin published an article in The Pennsylvania Gazette realizing the installation of Freemasonry in the colony. In fact, Franklin joined the Lodge Saint John of Philadelphia, which was the first Lodge of four established  in the Pennsylvania Colony by the Grand Lodge of England, in 1731, and went on to become Grand Master for many years shortly after print published as Anderson’s Constitutions. After Benjamin Franklin published the news at the prestigious gazette that everyone used to read during the time, can still been considered the masonic institution as a secret society in the USA?

Important Masons in the History of the United States. 

George Washington

Through the American history, there were many great names of the participants of the American Revolution that were Masons. Many of them were presidents, coronels, important merchants of the time, and so on. Such as Benjamin Franklin, John Hancock, Joseph Hewes, William Hooper, Robert Treat Payne, Richard Stockton, George Walton, William Whipple and Thomas Jefferson (nine signers of the Declaration of the independence of the United States were masons.) George Washington, for example, is a great representation of the masonic influences in early American history. George Washington was sworn in as the first President of the United States by Robert Livingston, Grand Master of New York’s Masonic Lodge. The Bible with which he took his oath was from his own Masonic lodge (Lodge #1 of San Juan, New York). In fact, it has been noticed that 9 of the 56 who signed the declaration of the independency in July 4^th, 1776 were masons. It seems like a small number now, but for that time it was considered a big deal because during this particular time is when the masonic lodges started to spread in the US. In fact, there are many Lodges in every city in this country. In case that this Lodges are secret places and temples as people affirm then why are they so exposed in cities and which such easy access to the public?. Then why all the secrecy rumors about this fraternity? What is secret and what is not about it?

There are many mysteries about the knowledge of Freemasonry as a fraternity but it is not a secret or either hided society. As an esoteric organization, Masons carry a secret that is the essence of its message and its reason for being. This message is transmitted through secret channels validated for the layman that could never be revealed, bounded by oath. It is the called “Masonic Secret,” of which most have been saying but not with great rigor. Many teaching can only be understood by the constant exercise of piety, integrity and honesty. In addition, through history, Freemasons have been persecuted for their ideas of liberty, equality, fraternity; therefore, it has required the utmost secrecy for meetings. Now, even though times have changed, we cannot make sure we always respect ideas, people or freedoms. Today’s constant “secret meetings” are just for precaution. For this reason, no one can decide to be a Mason by the person him/herself. The Masons can choose you to be part of this fraternity because they think you have the ability to understand their main objective. It seems complicated but it may not be at all. Masons have expose their objectives in very different ways but in every single place but just few people recognize the Masonic sigs.

Freemasonry mysterious  symbols: 

 Myth ?

The one dollar bill of the United States of America

As it was already explained, there were many Masons before and during the Independency of the United States of America. In fact, we can observe symbols and Masons since the beginning of the history of the Freemasonry in America. One of them is the American one dollar bill. Its symbols on the back have connection with Freemasonry society. The dollar was approved by the president Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Mason of the #32 Lodge. It is noticed that on the back of the dollar there is a pyramid (Egyptian symbol of Excellency) with the eye of Horus or Isis on the top that represents the eye that sees everything (all seen eye), between many others.  This eye symbol together with some words and numbers shown all around the American dollar bill definitely shows Masonic presence. The statue of liberty is another historical monument that represents the existence of the Masonic sings. It was built on the top a Mason’s star where it used to be celebrated Masons ceremonies. The torch and the book together with the 33 steps where the Babylonian Goddess Ishtar stands are masons symbols created by Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi and Gustave Eiffel, the French creators and designer of this statue who were masons from the great French Lodges. The American shield, as well, shows many of the masonic signs that has been observed until now. The star at the top formed by other stars, the number 13 represented by the arrows sustained by the eagle’s right leg, the 13 leaves of olive at the left leg of the eagle as well, and so on. As it is observable, all these signs and symbols has been always exposed to people in their everyday life like the one dollar bill. In fact, people can see that Masons exists everywhere and that they can interact with Masonic ideologies if they really want to. One of the greatest proofs to highlight this point is the Masonic Temple of Philadelphia.

The Masonic Temple of Philadelphia from inside

The Temple of Philadelphia, designed by James H. Windrim in 1868 and completely built by 1873, seems to be exposed by the mason not for secrecy, but rather for exposition to people. It is located at 1 North Broad Street, directly across from  City Hall at the center of the city. The huge beautiful wood doors are always opened to people who wants to get in and see the place, not only for Masons member, it also is opened for general people to visit the temple by itself and the Masonic museum that is behind it. That is right. There is a public museum inside the temple  where people in general can go and satisfy their wonders about what Freemasonry is about. This ornate structure shows beautiful inner architectures that provide information of the historical evolution of the fraternity. Also, the museum provides many tours where people can even register online to see the Masonic presidency tour, the museum architect tour, the temple tour and even an album expositions with many pictures that shows more about the American Masonic history and the people who were and has been involved in the fraternity through years. There is also a Masonic library where people can definitely investigate more about this society.  There is a big schedule on the internet website that provides prices and times to visit the place for people of all ages as also many contact numbers. In addition, there is always someone who talks to people explaining why they may consider to join the cause. Information which also appears at the website of the temple. In summarize, this Masonic Temple is opening their doors to let people in general be part of the fraternity. Therefore, people can no longer think that this community has things to hide from the citizens of the city when they can actually interact with this community like with any other that society considers as a normal one.

In conclusion, people have classified Freemasonry as a sect or hidden fraternity with lots of secrets involved, however, it has been provided enough proofs to concrete that all this secrecy and hidden society “rumors” are erroneous. Historically, Masons have tried to involve the right people to their community itself, but they never tried to occult it from others. Masons put clues and signs everywhere you can possible turn your head so people will be always dealing with Masonic meanings. There cannot exist a secret society if such society is not hidden. The Masonic Temple of Philadelphia is the greatest proof to conclude this point. People from everywhere around the world come to meet this great Lodge of Pennsylvania. In fact, the Masonic Temple of Philadelphia has been listed on the National Register of Historical places. Any tourists who comes to Philadelphia to appreciate historical architectures, sculptures and records can also visit the Masonic Temple of Philadelphia because it forms part of the history of this city. Not only because the Temple has been standing for longer than 130 years but because it is meaningful representation of the historical records of the city and the country itself. In summarize, this wonderful architectonical structure that is located at one of the most wonderful cities of the country opens doors for people who is interested and curious about such community as it is Freemasonry; its history and its significance and purpose as a fraternity. There is nothing hidden about it and people can interact with it as much as they want because it is not a secret society, quite the contrary, it is an opened one for everyone without discrimination of race, religion, believe or either gender and available for all ages. Reason why the Masonic Temple of Philadelphia is exposed to all the citizens at the center of the city of Philadelphia.