Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Warblers
The ovenbird, by contrast, is almost always found on or near the ground. It takes insects off the forest floor. This bird breeds as far south as Georgia and as far north as the Yukon and Newfoundland. It is named for its nest, which resembles a Dutch oven. Audubon did not classify the ovenbird among the warblers but referred to it as the Golden-Crowned Wagtail.
Here's a bit of what he said about the ovenbird:
Perched erect on a low horizontal branch, or sometimes on a fallen tree, it emits, at intervals of ten or fifteen minutes, a short succession of simple notes, beginning with emphasis and gradually falling. This suffices to inform the female that her lover is at hand, as watchful as he is affectionate. The
quieter the place of his abode, the more the little minstrel exerts his powers; and in calm evenings, its music immediately following the song of the Tawny Thrush, appears to form a pleasant unison. The nest is so like an oven, that the
children in many places call this species the "Oven Bird." I have found it always on the ground, sometimes among the roots of a tall tree, sometimes by the side of a fallen trunk, and again at the foot of some slender sapling. It is sunk in the ground among dry leaves or decayed moss, and is neatly formed of
grasses, both inside and out, arched over with a thick mass of the same material, covered by leaves, twigs, and such grasses as are found in the neighbourhood. A small aperture is left on one side, just sufficient to admit the owner. In this snug tenement the female deposits from four to six eggs, which are white, irregularly spotted with reddish-brown near the larger end.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Antonio de Montesinos
Did we hear anything this forthright from the Vatican during the Holocaust? Apparently, Montesinos participated in a later expedition to the Chesapeake which was abandoned in 1527.Tell me, by what right or justice do you hold these Indians in such cruel and
horrible slavery? By what right do you wage such detestable wars on these people
who lived mildly and peacefully in their own lands, where you have consumed
infinite numbers of them with unheard of murders and desolations? Why do you so
greatly oppress and fatigue them, not giving them enough to eat or caring for
them when they fall ill from excessive labors, so that they die or rather are
slain by you, so that you may extract and acquire gold every day? And what care
do you take that they receive religious instruction and come to know their God
and creator, or that they be baptized, hear mass, or observe holidays and
Sundays? Are they not men? Do they not have rational souls? Are you not bound to
love them as you love yourselves? How can you lie in such profound and lethargic
slumber? Be sure that in your present state you can no more be saved than the
Moors or Turks who do not have and do not want the faith of Jesus Christ.
1491
The book is intended to acquaint a general audience with results of recent archaeological and ethnological research regarding pre-contact American history and culture. (That's a mouthful). The emphasis is on findings which indicate that pre-contact population levels were much higher than popularly believed and that American civilization is more ancient and was more sophisticated than we might think.
The book is clearly the result of prodigious research and includes extensive notes and bibliography. At times, frankly, I found the detail regarding certain civilizations a bit mind-numbing. But Mann does make a persuasive case for his thesis.
He notes that pre-contact civilizations were more numerous than popularly believed and that they had a greater effect on the environment than we imagine. Pre-contact cultures did not preside over a largely untouched wilderness but extensively modified their surroundings. In North America, this involved extensive agriculture (maize) and forest burning. Mann also presents evidence that even in Amazonia, Indians planted "orchards" of fruit producing trees which transformed large sections of the Amazon basin. This was a rational response to the difficulty of clearing land in a culture without metal axes and poor soil quality which could not support intensive agriculture. Here is some additional detail on this issue.
Mann also includes an interesting chapter - "The Great Law of Peace" - on the link between American concepts of equality and liberty and Indian culture and spirituality. This chapter seemed to be somewhat brief to do the topic full justice. Check here for some additional thoughts on this topic.
Finally, a thought occurred to me as I read Mann's book which he does not address. Political scientists these days sometimes speak of strong and weak states. From Mann's book, I gathered the impression that the Inka and Mexica (Aztec) empires were strong states. They erected huge state buildings. Religion was state dominated and forced labor was extensively used by the Inka for road construction and other purposes. Spaniards marvelled at how clean and orderly were the cities of these two empires.
By contrast, European states at the time were characterized by frequent civil warfare and a lack of effective central control. Cortes, for example, operated with very limited and ineffective oversight or control even from colonial authorities. Spain had only recently been unified at the time of European contact and England was just emerging from the dynastic struggles of the Wars of the Roses. Although Inka society was wracked by civil war shortly before the Spanish Conquest, Mann believes this was a result, in part, of the social disintegration which occurred when Inka society was ravaged by European-introduced disease. And Mann makes it clear that he believes that the success of Cortes and Pizzaro was attributable not to technological superiority but to the ravages of disease which decimated Indian populations.
It also seems that the Inka and Mexica realms had religious belief systems which were state oriented. They more closely parallelled the state religions of ancient Rome than Christianity or Islam. See Mann's discussion of Tlacaelel at pp. 118-20. Although Christianity (or its leadership) was more than willing to accomodate itself to the demands of the conquest of the Americas, it could be argued that its reliance on principles that transcended the state allowed for dissent to develop from figures like Bartolome de las Casas. How much practical effect this had may be doubted but it did act as a small check on the rapacity of the conquistadors.
August 30, 1935
Monday, August 29, 2005
Cricket
If you don't understand all this - then check out this glossary of cricket terms. And for more info on the history of cricket - check here. By the way, I hope to return to the 1960 "tied test" later on.
In any event, in the fourth test of the current series, England very nearly suffered the same fate as their ancestors in 1882, but managed to escape with a victory. The fifth test is scheduled to begin September 8th - so stay tuned!!!
Screech owl
Ivory Bill lore
"The first place I observed this bird at, when on my way to the south, was about twelve miles north of Wilmington in North Carolina. There I found the bird from which the drawing of the figure in the plate was taken. This bird was only wounded slightly in the wing, and on being caught, uttered a loudly reiterated, and most piteous note, exactly resembling the violent crying of a young child; which terrified my horse so, as nearly to have cost me my life. It was distressing to hear it. I carried it with me in the chair, under cover, to Wilmington. In passing trhough the streets, its affecting cries surprised every one within hearing, particularly the females, who hurried to the doors and windows with looks of alarm and anxiety. I drove on, and on arriving at the piazza of the hotel, where I intended to put up, the landlord came forward, and a number of other persons who happened to be there, all equally alarmed at what they heard; this was greatly increased by my asking, whether he could furnish me with accommmodations for myself and my baby. The man looked blank and foolish, while the ohers stared with still greater astonishment. After diverting myself for a minute or two at their expense, I drew my woodpecker from under the cover, and a general laugh took place. I took him up stairs and locked him up in my room, while I went to see my horse taken care of. In less than an hour I returned, and, on opening the door, he set up the same distressing shout, which now appeared to proceed from grief that he had been discovered in his attempts at escape. He had mounted along the side of the window, nearly as high as the ceiling, a little below which he had begun to break through. The bed was covered with large pieces of plaster; the lath was exposed for at least fifteen inches square, and a hole, large enough to admit the fist, opened to the weather-boards; so that, in less than another hour he would certainly have succeeded in making his way through. I now tied a sting round his leg, and, fastening it to the table, again left him. I wished to preseve his life, and had gone off in search of suitable food for him. As I reascended the stairs, I hears him again hard at work, and on entering had the mortification to perceive that he had almost entiredly ruined the mahogany table to which he was fastened, and on which he had wreakd his whole vengeance. While engaged in taking the drawing, he cut me severely in several places, and, on the whole, displayed such a noble and uconquerable spirit, that I was frequently trempted to restore him to his native woods. He lived with me nearly three days, but refused all sustenance, and I witness his death with regret."
Here's Audubon's entry on the bird in Birds of America.
Roberta 3
"'I'll be hard to handle' is the big event of the film, the number in which 'Fred and Ginger' become fixed screen deities. The wonderful secret they seemed to share in 'The Continental' becomes here a magical rapport that is sustained through what looks like sheerest improvisation. It begins with some light banter punctuated by dance breaks, continues with music and more dance breaks - tap conversation with each other taking eight-bar 'sentences' (his growing more impudent, hers more indignant) - and ends in a chain of turns across the floor and a flop into two chairs."
In his biography of Astaire, Tim Satchell says that in Roberta "for the first time, Astaire arranged that the dance sequences would be shot to his own specifications, with several cameras shooting one dance from several different angles and a whole sequence shot in one take, so that after editing there would be a continuity of movement on film."
Benny Green makes an excellent point about the democratic aspects of Roberta and other Astaire films. "The audience watching [Busby] Berkeley was dreaming of life in a never-never land; when it watched Fred and Ginger it was dreaming of its own existence."
1935 (3)
1935 Again
1935
In addition to Roberta, films released in 1935 include The 39 Steps, A Night at the Opera, Mutiny on the Bounty and Top Hat. Perhaps, we'll take these up in later entries. Finally, to close and just for fun - can you name this song?
I'll be hard to handle.
I promise you that.
And if you complain
Here's one little Jane that will leave you flat.
I'll be hard to handle.
What else can I be?
Just ask my Dad the trouble he had controlling me.
I have faults. To be specific,
In a temper, oooh, I'm terrific.
I throw chairs and tables and I never miss.
Ohhh... I'm as cold as in a shell fish.I tell lies.
I'm mean. I'm selfish.
Think it over. My warning is this:
I'll be hard to handle.
I'm making it plain.
Now just be a dear
And scram out of here, 'cause I'm going to raise Cain.
(unintelligible Polish babbling)
I'm as cold as in a shell fish.
I tell lies.
I'm mean. I'm selfish.
Think it over.
My warning is...If you want to be sveet, huh!
Biography
Passenger pigeon
"The multitudes of Wild Pigeons in our woods are astonishing. Indeed, after having viewed them so often, and under so many circumstances, I even now feel inclined to pause, and assure myself that what I am going to relate is fact. Yet I have seen it all, and that too in the company of persons who, like myself, were struck with amazement. In the autumn of 1813, I left my house at Henderson, on the banks of the Ohio, on my way to Louisville. In passing over the Barrens a few miles beyond Hardensburgh, I observed the Pigeons flying from north-east to south-west, in greater numbers than I thought I had ever seen them before, and feeling an inclination to count the flocks that might pass within the reach of my eye in one hour, I dismounted, seated myself on an eminence, and began to mark with my pencil, making a dot for every flock that passed. In a short time finding the task which I had undertaken impracticable, as the birds poured in in countless multitudes, I rose, and counting the dots then put down, found that 163 had been made in twenty-one minutes. I travelled on, and still met more the farther I proceeded. The air was literally filled with Pigeons; the light of noon-day was obscured as by an eclipse, the dung fell in spots, not unlike melting flakes of snow; and the continued buzz of wings had a tendency to lull my senses to repose."
Alexander Wilson commented on these birds in similar terms:
"But the most remarkable characteristic of these birds is their associating together, both in their migrations, and also during the period of incubation, in such prodigious numbers as almost to surpass belief, and which has no parallel among any other of the feathered tribes on the face of the earth with which naturalists are acquainted."
Now, however, in his new book 1491, Charles Mann reports that these observations may have reflected an anomalous situation that arose as a result of the arrival of Europeans in the Americas. Mann is reporting on the findings of various researchers, which are reported here. This is the substance of Mann's argument, which can be found at pp. 315-18 in his book. Indians and passenger pigeons competed for the same foods: mast (acorns, beechnuts, chestnuts, etc.) and maize. Thus, Indians would have had a strong motive to hunt passenger pigeons. And the birds were notoriously easy to hunt. Audubon described such a hunt:
"Suddenly there burst forth a general cry of "Here they come!" The noise which they made, though yet distant, reminded me of a hard gale at sea, passing through the rigging of a close-reefed vessel. As the birds arrived and passed over me, I felt a current of air that surprised me. Thousands were soon knocked down by the pole-men. The birds continued to pour in. The fires were lighted, and a magnificent, as well as wonderful and almost terrifying, sight presented itself. The Pigeons, arriving by thousands, alighted everywhere, one above another, until solid masses were formed on the branches all round. Here and there the perches gave way under the weight with a crash, and, falling to the ground, destroyed hundreds of the birds beneath, forcing down the dense groups with which every stick was loaded. It was a scene of uproar and confusion. I found it quite useless to speak, or even to shout to those persons who were nearest to me. Even the reports of the guns were seldom heard, and I was made aware of the firing only by seeing the shooters reloading."
However, Mann notes, very few bones of passenger pigeons are present at Indian settlement sites which have been excavated by archaeologists. In contrast, bones of seventy two other bird species are found at such sites. The conclusion reached by some researchers, therefore, is that Indians did not hunt passenger pigeons because they did not need to do so - inasmuch as populations of the pigeon were much lower before European contact. The huge numbers of pigeons Audubon saw are described by one archaeologist as "outbreak populations - always a symptom of an extraordinarily disrupted ecological system."
How does this square with the widely accepted view that the passenger pigeon survived only because it was able to gather in large flocks. The reproductive rate of the bird was low and it was highly vulnerable to predation. As one source puts it:
"By the early 1890s the passenger pigeon had almost completely disappeared. It was now too late to protect them by passing laws. In 1897 a bill was introduced in the Michigan legislature asking for a ten-year closed season on passenger pigeons. This was a completely futile gesture as the birds still surviving, as lone individuals, were too few to reestablish the species. The passenger pigeon's technique of survival had been based on mass tactics. There had been safety in its large flocks which often numbered hundreds of thousands of birds. When a flock of this size established itself in an area, the number of local animal predators (such as wolves, foxes, weasels, and hawks) was so small compared to the total number of birds that little damage could be inflicted on the flock as a whole." Moreover, these accounts link the decline of species to the reduction in the size of the forest which occurred after European settlement of the Americas.
"Because the passenger pigeon congregated in such huge numbers, it needed large forests for its existence. When the early settlers cleared the eastern forests for farmland, the birds were forced to shift their nesting and roosting sites to the forests that still remained. As their forest food supply decreased, the birds began utilizing the grain fields of the farmers. The large flocks of passenger pigeons often caused serious damage to the crops, and the farmers retaliated by shooting the birds and using them as a source of meat. However, this did not seem to seriously diminish the total number of birds. The notable decrease of passenger pigeons started when professional hunters began netting and shooting the birds to sell in the city markets. Although the birds always had been used as food to some extent, even by the Indians, the real slaughter began in the 1800s. " Audubon himself speculated that forest reduction would endanger the species:
"Persons unacquainted with these birds might naturally conclude that such dreadful havoc would soon put an end to the species. But I have satisfied myself, by long observation, that nothing but the gradual diminution of our forests can accomplish their decrease, as they not unfrequently quadruple their numbers yearly, and always at least double it. In 1805 I saw schooners loaded in bulk with Pigeons caught up the Hudson river, coming in to the wharf at New York, when the birds sold for a cent a piece. I knew a man in Pennsylvania, who caught and killed upwards of 500 dozens in a clap-net in one day, sweeping sometimes twenty dozens or more at a single haul. In the month of March 1830, they were so abundant in the markets of New York, that piles of them met the eye in every direction. I have seen the Negroes at the United States' Salines or Saltworks of Shawanee Town, wearied with killing Pigeons, as they alighted to drink the water issuing from the leading pipes, for weeks at a time; and yet in 1826, in Louisiana, I saw congregated flocks of these birds as numerous as ever I had seen them before, during a residence of nearly thirty years in the United States." But an interesting observation is provided by our old friend Bachman. Audubon quotes him as follows:
My friend Dr. BACHMAN says, in a note sent to me, "In the more cultivated parts of the United States, these birds now no longer breed in communities. I have secured many nests scattered throughout the woods, seldom near each other. Four years ago, I saw several on the mountains east of Lansinburgh, in the State of New York. They were built close to the stems of thin but tall pine trees (Pinus strobus), and were composed of a few sticks; the eggs invariably two, and white. There is frequently but one young bird in the nest, probably from the loose manner in which it has been constructed, so that either a young bird or an egg drops out. Indeed, I have found both at the foot of the tree. This is no doubt accidental, and not to be attributed to a habit which the bird may be supposed to have of throwing out an egg or one of its young. I have frequently taken two of the latter from the same nest and reared them. The Wild Pigeons appear in Carolina during winter at irregular periods, sometimes in cold, but often in warm weather, driven here no doubt, as you have mentioned, not by the cold, but by a failure of mast in the western forests."
Perhaps what Bachman observed was a reversion to nesting habits that had been followed by the pigeon before European settlement.
Friday, August 26, 2005
Memin Pinguin
Memin is poor and works shining shoes and selling newspapers. The comics feature his adventures with his friends, who are also street children. When I was in Mexico recently, I found the comic books for sale as well as t-shirts and dolls. The recent controversy regarding Memin undoubtedly has spurred sales of these items.
The issuance of the postage stamps resulted, predictably, in criticism of the Mexican government by leading figures in the U.S. civil rights movement, including organizations such as LULAC. However, the Mexican government defended the stamps on the grounds that the character was not intended to be racist and was much beloved, particularly by poor and working class Mexicans. A spokesman for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs stated that criticism of the stamps was based on "a total lack of knowledge of our culture."
In an article which appeared in the Washington Post on July 12, 2005, Enrique Krauze, a well-known Mexican historian, defended the stamps. He began by noting that, unlike the United States, Mexico had two presidents of "Native American" origin - Benito Juarez and Porfirio Diaz. Krauze goes on to describe the image of Memin as understood by most Mexicans:
"he is a thoroughly likable character, rich in sparkling wisecracks, and is felt to represent not any sense of racial discrimination but rather the egalitarian possibility that all groups can live together in peace. "
Krauze goes on to describe the history of Africans in Mexico in benign terms. They "could buy their freedom and give birth to children who were in turn free to marry anyone of any racial origin." He goes on:
"To be sure, within the society of New Spain , they and their descendants . . . were not admitted to certain occupations and offices limited to people of pure-blooded Spanish descent. But they could work freely in tropical agriculture and skilled occupations, especially as blacksmiths, painters, sculptors, carpenters, candle-makers and singers in the churches. In the colonial society of New Spain, men and women of color mixed easily with the rest of the population."
Really? The history of New Spain is replete with efforts to segregate Africans from Indians and mestizos and to classify individuals by caste depending on their ethnic or racial background. Moreover, colonial rulers lived in constant fear of revolt by Africans or Indians or, worst of all, some combination of the two. In the seventeenth century, three major uprisings did occur. It is true, however, that legal restrictions on contact between Africans and Indians and other groups were often ineffectual. But Africans definitely occupied a social niche below those of other groups.
As Ilona Katzew notes in Casta Painting
"Africans . . . were brought to the New World as slaves and were in theory situated on the lowest echelons of society; they worked as domestic servants for the Spaniards and as laborers on the sugar plantations, mines and estates. Africans were considered a homogenous group with no rights, and were redeemable only on an individual level, once they had proven their loyalty to the church and their masters. In practice, however, Spaniards often preferred Africans to Indians and employed them to oversee Indian labor."
While Krauze notes the "freedom" of Africans to work in agricultural labor, sugar plantations and mines were undoubtedly hellish places.
In an article available online entitled "Casta Painting: Identity and Social Stratification in Colonial Mexico" Kastew elaborates on the situation of Africans in the social hierarchy:
"While intermarriage among the three groups did not become common until the second half of the seventeenth century, sexual contact among Spaniards, Indians, and Blacks occurred as early as the sixteenth century. This resulted in the growth of a large group of racially-mixed people known collectively as castas-the general term used by Spaniards and creoles (Spaniards born in the Americas) to distinguish themselves from the large masses of racially-mixed people. By the end of the eighteenth century, approximately one quarter (25.4 percent) of the total population of Mexico was racially mixed.From the sixteenth century on a variety of names served to designate the different castas of Mexico. The most widely used terms were those referring to the mixtures between the three main groups: mestizo (Spanish-Indian), mulatto (Spanish-Black), and zambo or zambaigo (Black-Indian). In the seventeenth century two additional terms appeared: castizo (a light-skinned mestizo) and morisco (a light-skinned mulatto). By the eighteenth century a whole array of fanciful terms had been devised to refer to the different castas and their offspring."
She goes on to add:
"Although most of these terms were clearly not applicable in ordinary communication, they suggest a basic principle: Spanish or white blood is redeemable; Black is not. In other words, while the purity of Spanish blood was inextricably linked to the idea of "civilization," Black blood, bearing the stigma of slavery, connoted atavism and degeneracy."
In short, the reality is more complex than that portrayed by Krauze. There was considerable intermarriage despite official disapproval. But the prevailing ideology in colonial New Spain was racist.
Modern Mexicans, however, see themselves as the heirs not of the Spanish colonialists but of the castas. And, the argument goes, inasmuch as the castas included descendants of Africans brought to New Spain, how can Mexicans be racist? They are themselves the descendants of African slaves. Moreover, most Mexicans have never encountered people who consider themselves "Afro-Mexican".
But Afro-Mexicans exist. However, they are a small minority and live largely in the coastal states of Veracruz,Geurrero and Oaxaca. Perhaps not surprisingly, they complain of continuing discrimination and neglect.
"This is the one community that is not recognised nationally. Indigenous groups are worse off in many ways, but at least they are paid lip service," said Bobby Vaughn, an African-American anthropologist who specialises in the Costa Chica [where many Afro-Mexicans live]. "Mexicans of African descent have no voice and the government makes no attempt to assess their needs, no effort to even count them."
At least one person interviewed by the Guardian for its story on Afro-Mexicans continues to believe in the old Spanish theory of purity of the blood:
"Pointing out the natural beauty around him with understated head gestures, Mr. Garcia pronounces: "I like being black."
But his pride in the colour of his skin soon runs up against a jarring contradiction. He says he is happy that the number of mixed marriages in his community is rising fast. "That's a good thing," the fisherman says, "it improves the race, cleans the blood."
There is a great deal to be said for the notion of Mexico as a mestizo country where the racial and ethnic barriers created by the Spanish conquerors have been eroded by intermarriage and tolerance. But Mexico is no longer, if it ever was, an isolated society. There are 20 million Mexican expatriates, most living in the United States. Mexican radio and television are pervaded by programming which originates in the U.S. I visited a shopping mall near Mexico City which could easily be transplanted to suburban St. Louis with few changes in the names of stores or the merchandise offered.
Thus many Mexicans have contact, either personally, or through the media, with African-American communities and personalities. It is unfair to judge from my limited contacts, but in private conversations, I have encountered Mexicans who were free of racial bias and others who would fit in quite comfortably at a Klan meeting in Alabama in 1963. As the Guardian article indicates, old concepts of racial purity have not disappeared and racism of the U.S. variety is undoubtedly alive and well in Mexico today.
Moreover, stereotypes do not have have to be exclusively negative to be demeaning or offensive. Many white Americans doubtless felt an attraction to the character of Aunt Jemima - after all, she was used as a sympathetic figure to market products for many years. But she was a demeaning stereotype as well. Is it any any wonder that blacks might regard a poorly educated street child with caricature features as an offensive stereotype also?
This is often the case with ethnic or racial stereotypes, e.g., Indian team mascots. Some people, including the mascots themselves, feel that the figure expresses esteem or pride, while others regard it as offensive or demeaning. In such a case, whose perception should control? In most cases, we accept that the feelings of the group being portrayed be given primacy. In short, it is not just the intention of the author of the image which determines whether an expression or character is offensive.
A final point in response to Krauze. Mexico is filled with images - murals, statues, monuments - which glorify its indigenous heritage. But the reality is that indigenous people continue to cling firmly to the lowest social and economic rung in Mexico. A recent World Bank study indicates that almost ninety percent of Mexico's indigenous population lives in poverty and 68.5% live in extreme poverty. The rate for non-indigenous Mexicans is 15%.
Moreover, the fact that two presidents of Mexico were indigenous is of little relevance. The French made Leon Blum prime minister in the 1930s - a few years before the Vichy regime barred Jews from most professions and then helped the Nazis deport them to concentration camps. Is the U.S. - which has never had a Jewish president - more or less anti-semitic than France?
In fact, if Mexico really cherishes its image as a country where racial and ethnic tolerance flourishes, it gains little by clinging to official glorification of Memin Pinguin. It's time to say a fond "adios" to Memin.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Roberta 2
More Bachman
These differences between breeding and non-breeding and adult and juvenile plumage created real problems for early ornithologists who operated without the benefit of binoculars and the ability to observe birds on their breeding grounds. Audubon describes the chestnut-sided warbler in Birds of America but notes:
Where this species goes to breed I am unable to say, for to my inquiries on this subject I never received any answers which might have led me to the districts resorted to by it. I can only suppose, that if it is at all plentiful in any portion of the United States, it must be far to the northward, as I ransacked the borders of Lake Ontario, and those of Lakes Erie and Michigan, without meeting with it.In fact, according to the Cornell Ornithology Lab, this bird now breeds as far south as northern Georgia. Its range may have expanded in the 19th century because it favors successional or second growth forests, which likely proliferated in the aftermath of logging and farm abandonment. The illustration which Audubon made of the bird is only of the adult in breeding plumage which suggests he may not have recognized the juvenile as belonging to the same species.
A celebrated example of Audubon's confusion of an immature bird with a separate species is the so-called "Bird of Washington" - an eagle which Audubon believed to constitute a separate species but which most ornithologists today believe was an immature Bald Eagle. In his book Natural History in America, Wayne Hanley criticizes Bachman for defending Audubon on this point. Hanley states:
"Washington's Eagle (Falco washingtonii) proved to be nothing more than an immature bald eagle. Audubon, however, defended Falco washingtonii as a valid species for the remainder of his life. "
Well, not so fast. In his excellent new book Under a Wild Sky, William Souder defends Audubon. He notes that Audubon observed a breeding pair of the bird and that "[b]ald eagles tending a brood would have had the characteristic white heads [of an adult bird]." He also notes that Audubon painted the Washington's Eagle and that the painting was done to life size. Souder measured the painting and found that the depicted bird's length, toes and folded wings all substantially exceeded in size those of a juvenile bald eagle. As Souder says:
"What about the chance that Audubon was right - that the bird he shot and drew actually was a separate species, possibly a rare individual from a remnant population that was in the process of going extinct."
The next Ivory Billed Woodpecker?
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Roberta
I like the film because:
1) The film is about pretense and how it's transcended by talent and effort. Or maybe it's about role confusion. Take your pick. The cafe owner won't hire Fred's band because they're not "Indians" - they're Indianians. He wants a more exotic group. That's why he has Lizzie Gatz singing for him under the nom de chanteuse Countess Sharvenka. As Lizzie puts it, "You've got to have a title to croon over here." As a result of "Sharvenka's" threats - and the band's undoubted ability - Fred and the Indianians wind up performing at the Cafe.
On the other side of the ledger, Stephanie (Irene Dunne) is a Russian aristocrat who is working as the capable assistant and fashion designer at Roberta's. Her cousin - a Russian prince - is the doorman of the establishment. Roberta's, of couse, is simply the most fashionable couturier in all Paris.
Roberta herself is the midwestern-born "Aunt Minnie" of Jack Kent (Randolph Scott). And the film has great fun which the notion that Jack - a football player from the U.S. - must run Roberta's after Aunt Minnie dies and leaves him the place. No one is more scornful of Jack's ability to do this than his erstwhile girlfriend Sophie Teale (Claire Dodd). Of course, Jack has the good sense to dump Sophie (a pretentious twit who aspires to a role she can't attain) and winds up with Stephanie. And Fred and Ginger, who were childhood sweethearts, wind up together, effortlessly.
2) The film features the best dance that Fred and Ginger did together - "I'll Be Hard to Handle". The dance is staged as an improptu contest/courtship between the two in the cafe during rehearsals. Perhaps I like the dance because Ginger is in pants. I don't know what that means on a deeper level, but the absence of elaborate costumes (for either dancer) seems to free the dance to be more joyous, spontaneous and expressive than any of their other work. Of course, the irony is that this occurs in a film where the title establishment is a fashion shop.
3) The film features one of the most swinging numbers in the Astaire/Rogers films - "I Won't Dance". Actually this number wasn't in the play from which the film is adapted. It was interpolated from "The Three Sisters". According to Larry Billman, Astaire wanted to use the song in The Gay Divorcee but RKO would not buy it. He plays the piano at the opening of the song and is later joined by Hal Borne - who often worked as an arranger for Astaire.
Kern was often criticized for his inability to create arrangements that swing. I don't know who arranged "I Won't Dance" but if Kern did so he proved the critics wrong this time. In 1935, when the film was released, swing was just beginning to take off commercially. This song certainly showed its potential.
4) This movie, unlike the two that preceded it - and Top Hat which followed it - has no big dance production number. These extravaganzas are the antithesis of what Astaire and Rogers did best - their eloquence, grace and intimacy. (Although the "Carioca" number in Flying Down to Rio is fun to watch). The film does have a fashion show at the end - featuring an early screen appearance by Lucille Ball. But this is capped by a glorious coda of dance by Astaire and Rogers to "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" and a reprise of "I Won't Dance".
5) The film is based on a book by the aforementioned Alice Duer Miller.
In short, it's a great movie. Watch it!
Waterfront
Monday, August 22, 2005
Turtle frolic
Prince Hall is widely regarded as the founder of black Freemasonry. He was also an early abolitionist and operated a school for black children in his home.
Who could imagine that the arrival of sea turtles would be cause for such rejoicing? Apparently, turtle stew and soup were once an important part of the diet of native peoples and early colonists. One listserve writer noted that snapping turtle soup continues to be served at events sponsored by Delaware Historic Foodways. A big part of the fun is picking the turtle meat from cooked turtles - a la lobster.
Our own local sea turtle, the diamondback terrapin, was once regarded as a delicacy and nearly harvested to extinction in order to provide terrapin stew. As with Prince Hall's feasts, diamondback terrapin was frequently served in the shell, although a special terrapin plate was devised for serving the delicacy. Gen Winfield Scott described terrapin as the "flesh that is honored at feasts of the rich and the brave." Presumably, General Scott included himself in the latter category.
Today, terrapins nest at Jamaica Bay National Wildlife Refuge in Queens (just one subway stop from JFK airport on the fabled A train). They can ferequently be seen nesting on or near the path on the refuge during June and July. Predation from raccoons poses a serious threat to the Jamaica Bay population and as a result volunteers place wire cages over known nests. It's great funs to observe these turtles nesting. Offshore, they poke their heads above the water as they scan the beach to assure that it's safe to come ashore. The turtles dig the nest with their back feet, lay the eggs and then cover - again with the back feet. A nesting turtle can be spooked when digging the nest but will remain - even if humans approach - once she begins laying.
Additional threats to terrapin populations are road kills, pollution and crab traps. Check out www.neoterrapin.com for more information on our local sea turtle.
Friday, August 19, 2005
Alice Duer Miller
"Gowns by Roberta" was not the only of Ms. Miller's works to be brought to the screen. The 1948 film "Spring in Park Lane" is based on her 1916 book "Come Out of the Kitchen". I had not heard of this film but it is apparently the fifth most seen film in Britain with an estimated attendance of over twenty million. This is according to a British Film Institute survey. The number one film is, of course, "Gone with the Wind".
John Bachman
His ties to Audubon were quite close. Both of his daughters married into Audubon's family. Audubon's "The Viviparous Quadrupeds of North America" was assembled by Bachman and Audubon and his sons.
Bachman was a founder of Newberry College and the school is hosting a symposium on his life and worrk in April 2006. More information on Bachman is available at www.johnbachman.org.
Bad Birdwatching
Audubon repeated a story he had heard from Bachman about a pair of hooded warblers. "A sharp-shinned Hawk suddenly pounced upon them, seized the female, and flew off with her. The male, to my surprise, followed close after the Hawk, flying within a few inches of him, and darting at him in all directions, as if fully determined to make him drop his prey. The pursuit continued thus until the birds were quite out of my sight!."
More Swing Time
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Swing Time 2
Eric Blore appears in Swing Time as the manager of a dancing school where Astaire first dances with Rogers - who teaches at the school. In the same year he made Swing Time, Blore appeared in Picadilly Jim - based on the Wodehouse novel. He apparently appears as a butler - his quintessential (right word?) role. A recent film version of this novel was shown at the Tribeca Film Festival this spring and is apparently scheduled for release later this year. Blore, unfortunately, does not appear in Astaire's Damsel in Distress. He appeared in six other films in 1937 - including Shall We Dance with Astaire and Rogers. Perhaps he was too busy to fit Damsel in. I think Damsel is a wonderful picture but it would have benefitted from Blore's presence. By the way, who knew that Damsel was first made into a picture in 1919?
Swing Time
Wikipedia reports that blackface was originated in the US in 1789 by an actor "playing the role of an inebriated black man . . .." This seems an inauspicious beginning. In fact, Wikipedia notes that in the mid 19th century, Frederrick Douglass was "one of the first people to write against the institution of blackface minstrelsy, pointing to its racist nature and inauthentic, northern, white origins."
Criticism of figures like Astaire who utilized blackface is often deflected by a claim that is anachronistic. However, if criticism of the practice dates back to at least the mid-19th century, is this valid? Bill Robinson himself performed in blackface but apparently shed the trappings when he toured Canada. Perhaps the use of blackface by performers like Astaire reflects a combination of the expectations of the public with an unwillingness to confront or challenge the meaning of the practice. In any event, Astaire possibly had the choice to engage in the practice or not while Robinson and other black performers likely had no other option if they wished to be accepted by a white audience.