St. Benedict the African

As a saint, Benedict the African (1526-89), or Benedict the Moor, has enjoyed longstanding popularity in Italy, Spain and Latin America, and is also the patron saint of African-Americans. I didn’t know any of that before we visited St. Benedict the African, a church in the Englewood neighborhood of Chicago, as part of Open House Chicago on October 19, but I was going to learn.

The exterior looked unpromising. It’s a modernist design completed in 1989 by Belli & Belli. “Eight parishes were consolidated into St. Benedict the African in the 1980s, the building was designed specifically with and for its predominantly African-American community,” Open House says.
St Benedict the African ChicagoThe exterior might be utilitarian, but inside is a whole other story. A whole other remarkable story. A welcoming St. Benedict is one of the first figures you see.
St Benedict the African ChicagoFashioned from Ethiopian glass (there’s an industry there) by local artist David Csicsko to honor Benedict’s parents’ birthplace. The Sears Tower and the John Hancock building are in the background.

Not far from that window is an astonishingly large baptismal pool (too big to be called a font?). Open House claims that at 10,000 gallons, it’s one of the world’s largest.
St Benedict the African ChicagoThe sanctuary is in the round.
St Benedict the African ChicagoSt Benedict the African ChicagoSt Benedict the African Chicago“An inspired 200-pound, hand-woven tapestry adorns the wall behind the altar and depicts a dancing flame (the spirit of God), choppy waters (daily strife), and the broken body of Christ image as the Bread of Life,” the church says.

St Benedict the African Chicago

In wood, a depiction of St. Martin de Porres, another saint I knew nothing about before visiting the church.

St Benedict the African Chicago

More Csicsko glass. A Living Cross.
St Benedict the African ChicagoElsewhere is another one of his windows, or a pair actually, depicting Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks and Sister Thea Bowman, the last of whom was new to me as well.

Our Lady of Victory & St. Edward (the Confessor)

According to Open House Chicago, Our Lady of Victory is in the Portage Park neighborhood of Chicago, though it isn’t that far south of the Copernicus Center in Jefferson Park. Other sources put the church in Jefferson Park.

Never mind, Our Lady of Victory was our first church of the day during Open House. Others would follow.

Our Lady of Victory ChicagoUnderneath the main church is a chapel. According to a parishioner on hand to talk to visitors, the chapel was completed decades before the rest of the church — 1928, designed by E. Brielmaier & Sons. Then work stopped. First there were hard times, then there was a war.

“Work on the upper church was delayed until it was finally completed in 1954,” Open House says. “The tan stone of the Spanish-style exterior was selected specifically to complement the color of the ornate terra-cotta around the original entrance.”

By this time, different architects were on the job: Meyer & Cook.Our Lady of Victory ChicagoOur Lady of Victory Chicago“The warmth of the exterior extends to the sanctuary’s lavish tan and pink marble and terrazzo. Polychromatic details throughout, particularly in the stained glass, wooden Stations of the Cross and other painted elements contribute to a colorful and welcoming space tied together with subtle Art Deco influences.”

East of Our Lady of Victory, and east of the Kennedy Expressway in the Irving Park neighborhood, is St. Edward. I don’t know that I’ve ever visited a church named for Edward the Confessor, but there it was.
St Edward Church ChicagoAnd there he is.
St Edward Church ChicagoQuite a view, looking straight up.
St Edward Church ChicagoThe church has a similar construction history as Our Lady of Victory, except the archdiocese managed to complete it before the war. “Plans to build the current St. Edward Church began around 1926,” Open House Chicago notes.

“Construction of the lower level was completed, but the work was halted because of the Depression. Worship took place in the lower church at basement level. The upper church was completed in 1940.”

St Edward Church Chicago

St Edward Church ChicagoThe distinctive feature of St. Edward is in the narthex. Not too many churches you can say that about.

More specifically, all around the narthex ceiling is a painted replica of the first third of the Bayeux Tapestry, done in oils by an artist named Mae Connor-Anderson and completed in 2005. It’s about 75 feet long and you have to crane your neck to appreciate it, or — as I did for a few moments — lay on the floor.

Just inside the nave a parishioner, maybe only a shade older than I am, sat at a small table with some material about the church and especially the Tapestry, mostly some photocopied sheets. I took an interest and told him that I’d seen the Tapestry. He seemed a little excited at that — not only someone who knew what it was, but who had actually seen it. He told me that he wanted to see it himself, but hadn’t gotten around to it.

So we talked some more about the Tapestry and St. Edward’s replica, and just before I left, he told me to wait a second. From under the table, he produced a professionally made 12-page booklet about the St. Edward and the Tapestry and gave it to me. The cover:
St Edward Church ChicagoThe first third was reproduced on the ceiling for reasons of space, but also because it begins with King Edward meeting Harold II — perfidious Harold, according to Norman propaganda — and ends with Edward being interred at Westminster Abbey. Other adjustments were made as well, including leaving the Latin tituli out.

An example page of the booklet:
St Edward Church ChicagoFrom my perch on the floor, I was determined to get at least one image of the ceiling painting.
St Edward Church ChicagoWho else but good King Edward?

Jefferson Park, Chicago

The weekend after I returned from Virginia, where we encountered a number of statues of Thomas Jefferson, I found myself in front of a statue of Thomas Jefferson. In Chicago. In the neighborhood known as Jefferson Park on the Northwest Side.
Jefferson Park Jefferson statueHe’s standing in front of an open-air CTA bus terminal. Actually, an intermodal station, since the Jefferson Park El stop is back there, too.

“The statue depicts Jefferson standing at a podium as he signed the Declaration of Independence,” says Chicago-L. “The statue stands on a circular granite base, divided into 13 wedges representing the 13 original colonies. One of Jefferson’s quotations — ‘The will of the people is the only legitimate foundation of any government’ — is imprinted around the outer edge.

“A time capsule, which includes essays from the children from schools in the surrounding area, was buried at the statue’s feet. The statue was made possible through a fund drive organized by the Jefferson Park Chamber of Commerce.”

Elsewhere, I found that it’s the work of Edward Hlavka, erected in 2005.

As interesting as an eye-level bronze of a Founding Father might be, I hadn’t come to Jefferson Park for that. Rather, the area was our first stop during Open House Chicago 2019 on October 19. The fact that I just gotten back from a trip wasn’t going to keep me away. Besides, it was a pleasant fall day in Chicago.

First we went to the Copernicus Center on W. Lawrence Ave.
Copernicus Center ChicagoThese days, the Copernicus Center is an event venue owned by the Copernicus Foundation, a Polish-American society, which holds events of interest to the local Polish population, but that’s not all. Looking at its list of upcoming events, I found a concert by Iranian pop singer Shadmehr Aghili; Praise Experience, “one of the biggest African gospel concerts in Chicago”; and a stage show called Cleopatra Metio la Pata, “Por fin llega a los Estados Unidos la sexy comedia musical!”

The building opened in 1930 as the Gateway Theatre, “designed in Atmospheric style with classical Roman-inspired flourishes; complete with a dark blue, starlit sky in the 2,092-seat auditorium, and classical statuary and vines on the side walls,” Cinema Treasures says. A movie palace, in other words. Mason Gerardi Rapp of Rapp & Rapp did the design.

Movies are still shown at the Copernicus — the Polish Film Festival in America is coming there soon — but mostly the stage holds live shows.

Gateway Theatre Rapp and RappGateway Theatre Rapp and RappFrom there, we walked along Milwaukee Ave., passing the Jefferson statue, and soon arrived at the Jefferson Masonic Temple.
Jefferson Masonic Temple ChicagoThe main room was open.
A mason was on hand, the fellow wearing the tie, to talk about the temple and Masonry. The subject of the Anti-Masonic Party didn’t come up.

“The Jefferson Masonic Temple, completed in 1913, is one of a few remaining active Masonic Temples in the city limits of Chicago…” Open House Chicago notes. “The Providence Lodge, which built the structure, eventually merged with the King Oscar Lodge, and the space is now shared by several different Lodges and owned by the nonprofit Jefferson Masonic Temple Association.”

The Edgar Allan Poe Museum

Halloween snow today. Mid-morning.Halloween Snow

Mid-afternoon. Of course, it will melt in a day or two.

I’ve spent a fair number of Halloweens in the North; this is the first time snow has fallen. Cold rain, sometimes, but no snow. Sometimes warm fall days or blustery cool ones, like the Halloween of 2001, when Lilly was so unnerved by the dark and the strong winds while out trick-or-treating that she insisted that I carry her home. She wasn’t quite four, so it was possible — but tiring.

Speaking of Halloween, I’ve been listening to “Danse Macabre” lately.

In high school, I made the mistake of calling the piece “Halloween music” in front of my band director. He let me have it. It’s a tone poem! It’s serious music from France! It’s blah blah blah. Know what, Mr. W? I was right. It can be all those other things and Halloween music as well. Halloween as in spirits roaming our world before All Hallow’s, not the candy-gathering custom.

The last place we visited during the recent Virginia trip was the Edgar Allan Poe Museum in the Shockoe Bottom neighborhood of Richmond.

Poe Museum Richmond

A small, specialized museum not in a house that Poe lived in — one of the places he lived was a few blocks away, long demolished — but including a building that is suitably old. In fact, according to a plaque on the wall, the oldest house still standing in Richmond, the Ege House.

All in all, an interesting little museum. Ann thought so too. I found out things I didn’t know, such as that Poe was a gifted athlete at the University of Virginia. Also heard more about things I did know, such as that after Poe died, his enemy Rufus Griswold wrote damning and largely false accounts of the author — vestiges of which still cling to Poe.

The museum is essentially three rooms: Poe’s early life, which was haunted by Death; Poe’s literary career, which was informed by Death; and Poe’s early and mysterious death, which was literally about Death. Some of the artifacts were owned by Poe or his family, or were portraits of them. Other items evoked his life and literature.

Such as this marble-and-bronze memorial to Poe.

The sign says, “… Edwin Booth, on behalf of the actors of New York, presented this monument to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in 1885 in memory of Poe…” Eventually, I guess, the Met got tired of it, and it ended up in Richmond.

Or this bust of Pallas, a copy of a Roman sculpture. Can’t call yourself a Poe museum without that, though a depiction of Night’s Plutonian Shore would be good as well.

Poe himself in stone out in the garden.

The garden is a pretty little space. People get married there, apparently.

My own favorite item.

I haven’t seen The Raven, but a movie with Vincent Price and Peter Lorre and Boris Karloff and Jack Nicholson, directed by Roger Corman, who did a lot of Poe-inspired movies, has to be worth a look.

Hollywood Cemetery

It sounds like a place where movie stars repose, but Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond had that name long before the film industry acquired its metonym. The graveyard in California is the Hollywood Forever Cemetery, named such only in 1998 in a clear exercise in marketing. Founded in 1849, Virginia’s Hollywood is a first-rate example of the rural cemetery movement of the 19th century, and as beautiful a graveyard as you’ll find anywhere.

The cemetery stands on hills overlooking the James River, covering 130 acres not far west of downtown and counting more than 64,000 permanent residents. It has everything an aesthetic cemetery should have: landscape contour, trees and bushes, funerary art and a wide variety of stones, and notable burials.

I went on the warm and clear morning of October 15 not long after Hollywood opened. Getting there wasn’t too hard. It’s enough of an attraction that signs point the way.

Hollywood Cemetery Richmond

But I suppose not that many people come on Tuesday mornings. A handful of joggers and dog walkers and groundsmen were the only other living people there.

Hollywood Cemetery Richmond

Hollywood Cemetery Richmond

Hollywood Cemetery RichmondHollywood Cemetery RichmondHollywood Cemetery RichmondSome mausoleums, but maybe not as many as in cemeteries in historically more prosperous parts of the country.

Hollywood Cemetery Richmond

Hollywood offers some nice views of the James. I’d heard that the river was low because the region’s been dry lately.
Hollywood Cemetery RichmondAs you’d expect, one section has an enormous Confederate burial ground.
Hollywood Cemetery RichmondMade distinctive by a monumental pyramid, dedicated in 1869.
Hollywood Cemetery Richmond“This famed 90-foot pyramid stands as a monument to the 18,000 Confederate soldiers buried in Hollywood Cemetery,” the cemetery web site says. “Made entirely from large blocks of James River granite, the pyramid was created through the efforts of the women of the Hollywood Memorial Association who tended the graves of the Confederate dead after the Civil War. They worked together to raise over $18,000 and commissioned the help of engineer Charles Henry Dimmock to design the pyramid.”

By chance, I happened across J.E.B. Stuart’s grave. Plenty of other Confederate generals lie in Hollywood as well.

Hollywood Cemetery Richmond

But I wanted to find the cemetery’s presidential graves, which I did. Jefferson Davis was hard to miss, located toward the western edge of Hollywood among other members of his family. He and his wife Varina are in front of the bronze.
Hollywood Cemetery RichmondI believe that’s the third flag of the Confederacy, limp on the flagpole. The draped figure on the left marks the graves of Joel and Margaret Hayes; she was one of the Davis daughters. Off further to the left, though not in the picture, is the grave of Fitzhugh Lee.

The angel marks the grave of Varina Anne Davis (1864-1898), youngest daughter of the Davises.
Hollywood Cemetery RichmondOn one of the cemetery’s prominent ridges is Presidents Circle, location of the two U.S. presidents.
Hollywood Cemetery RichmondOne is James Monroe.
Hollywood Cemetery RichmondHe died in 1831, before the cemetery opened, but was re-interred here in 1858 from New York City, during the centennial year of his birth. Apparently the reinterment was quite a big deal, involving speeches, banquets, civilian and military escorts, and a fair amount of cooperation between the states of Virginia and New York, as detailed in this article in the Richmond-Times Dispatch.

The article also notes a toast delivered by a Richmonder at the Virginia banquet: “New York and Virginia; united in glory, united in interest… nothing but fanaticism can separate them.”

Oh, well. Architect Albert Lybrock designed Monroe’s Gothic Revival cast-iron monument. Seems like he’s best known for that very work.

Not far away is John Tyler’s tall marker, mostly in shadow when I saw it.
Hollywood Cemetery RichmondHe happened to be in Richmond when he died in early 1862, before he could take his seat in the CSA House of Representatives. He had been in the Provisional Congress, however.
Hollywood Cemetery RichmondHis second wife, Julia, is with him, and a few of his large brood are nearby. Hollywood Cemetery says: “Tyler requested arrangements for a simple burial, but Confederate President Jefferson Davis hosted a grand event, complete with a Confederate flag draped over the coffin.”

The bust wasn’t added until 1915. Guess bronze was in short supply in secessionist Virginia, and funds in short supply after the war. The work is by Raymond Averill Porter, better known for a Henry Cabot Lodge statue in Boston.

Counting the two latest ones, that makes 17 U.S. presidential grave sites I’ve visited: Jefferson, Monroe, Jackson, Tyler, Polk, Lincoln, A. Johnson, Grant, Hayes, B. Harrison, Taft, Hoover, Truman, Kennedy, LBJ, Nixon and Ford.

Colonial Williamsburg

Things to bring to Colonial Williamsburg: money, walking shoes, water (especially in summer) and — I can’t stress this enough — some historical imagination. Not everyone has much. I understand that. Still, if you can’t bring much historical imagination to your visit, best to go somewhere else.

A look at a few of the recent “terrible” reviews of Colonial Williamsburg on TripAdvisor illustrates the point (all sic).

Mrpetsaver: This place is like that fort or museum with old buildings common in some communities, but on a larger scale.

My kids got bored very quickly and so did I. Most of the staff are great and professional dressed up in costumes, but aren’t acting. Instead, they discuss how the original inhabitants did their different jobs etc.

Dewpayne: It has some very interesting sites but there so far away you get bored it’s more about the shops and selling water I wouldn’t recommend it.

zebra051819: This historical site was a huge disappointment and I would not recommend spending your time here. There must be more informative sites where one could gain an appreciation of Civil War history.

Mrpetsaver is right, though. Colonial Williamsburg is a larger version of an open-air museum. It is an open-air museum. One on a grand scale, the likes of which we’d only experienced — sort of — at Greenfield Village.

Colonial Williamsburg shouldn’t be confused with Williamsburg, Virginia, which is a town of around 14,500 on the lower reaches of the James River. As a 21st-century American town, it has the usual amenities, such as honky-tonks (maybe), Dairy Queens and 7-11s, where you can buy cherry pies, candy bars and chocolate-chip cookies.

Colonial Williamsburg, on the other hand, occupies 173 acres and includes 88 original buildings and more than 50 major reconstructions. All of Colonial Williamsburg is within modern Williamsburg, but not all of modern Williamsburg involves Colonial Williamsburg. A fair bit of it doesn’t, according to maps.

A hundred years ago, Williamsburg was a small college town with a history, namely as the second capital of Virginia when it was a prosperous tobacco colony. No doubt the story of how Colonial Williamsburg came to be in the early 20th century is fairly complicated, with a number of major players, but I’m going to oversimplify by saying that Money wanted it to happen, as persuaded by Preservationism.

Money in the form of Rockefeller scion John D. Rockefeller Jr., who had the deep pockets necessary to start the purchase and restoration of the historic sites, and Preservationism in the form of W.A.R. Goodwin (1869–1939), rector of Bruton Parish Church in Williamsburg, who felt alarmed that the 20th century was eating away at the area’s historic structures.

Colonial Williamsburg is a odd hybrid of past and present, but also of museum and neighborhood. The foundation that runs the museum doesn’t play it up — and some of the disappointed TripAdvisor reviews note it ruefully — but it turns out that you don’t need a ticket to wander along the streets of Colonial Williamsburg.

Cars aren’t allowed on the streets during museum hours, but visitors are perfectly free to park a few blocks away and walk around. That’s because the town of Williamsburg still owns the streets and sidewalks, making them public thoroughfares.

Also — another thing the foundation doesn’t dwell on — people live in Colonial Williamsburg. “There are dozens of people — families, couples, college students — who live in some of the historic homes of Colonial Williamsburg,” says Local Scoop. “Many of the homes are original colonial-era buildings; others were rebuilt based on historical accounts to look like the homes they once were.

“It’s not a perk available to everyone. To live in the Historic Area, one has to work at Colonial Williamsburg or be an employee at the College of William & Mary. In all, there are 75 houses rented through the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation…”

I found this out when I was there, and pretty soon I started noticing that a fair number of the houses had small signs denoting them as private residences. I also noticed a few people doing neighborhood sorts of things, like jogging or walking their dogs, as opposed to tourist sorts of things.

So why buy a ticket? That’s so you can see the interiors of the many buildings flying the Grand Union flag. They mark the open-air museum’s buildings.
Colonial WilliamsburgAlso, your ticket gets you into some Colonial Williamsburg events, many of which involve reenactors. So we got tickets. At $45 each, and no student discount (grumble), that’s more than Henry Ford/Greenfield, in the same league as some theater tickets and some theme parks, and less than other theme parks (whose mascot is a Mouse).

At that price, I was determined to wear out my feet. So we did, spending October 14 from late morning to late afternoon at Colonial Williamsburg. At the end, I felt like I’d gotten my money’s worth. I’m a sucker for open-air museums, for one thing, but more than that, it is a special place with a lot to see and think about, if you add a dash of historical imagination.

You walk from the visitor center along a wooded path until you come to the historic buildings. The first one of any heft is the Governor’s Palace.
Colonial WilliamsburgColonial WilliamsburgColonial WilliamsburgMaybe no grand thing back in England, but for colonial Virginia, a worthy residence for the gov. What you see now is a reconstruction from plans and, according to the guide on the interior tour that we joined, archaeological investigation of the materials left when the building collapsed in a fire in 1781, not long after Gov. Jefferson had decamped to Richmond.

When it burned, the structure was being used as a hospital for men wounded at the Battle of Yorktown. All of them but one escaped the fire, the guide said. I told Ann we should listen for that unfortunate fellow’s ghost. She told me to shush.

From there we wandered down the Palace Green to Duke of Gloucester St., pretty much the main street of the historic area. The view from the other end of the Palace Green.
Colonial WilliamsburgNearby is the Bruton Parish Church. It isn’t one of the Colonial Williamsburg buildings, but people go in as if it were. We did. A couple of parishioners were on hand to tell visitors about the church.
Bruton Parish ChurchBruton Parish ChurchThe building dates from the 1710s, but according to this history, it didn’t look much like the original by the mid-1800s, after various alterations and modernizations. Like Colonial Williamsburg, the church was restored to its 18th-century appearance only in the early 20th century.

The church’s graveyard was fenced in, but you could get a pretty good look at it anyway.
Bruton Parish ChurchBruton Parish ChurchSome of the stones were close to the church itself.
Bruton Parish ChurchThe stone of Letitia Tyler Semple, one of President Tyler’s many children. A handful of stones were inside, flush with the floor of the church, as you see in old English churches. W.A.R. Goodwin has one of those.

We spent the rest of the day looking at and entering various structures on or near Duke of Glouchester St., such as the Geddy Foundry, the Courthouse, the Market Square, the Magazine, the Printing Office, the Silversmith, Bakery, Apothecary, and Raleigh Tavern, where we saw two reenactors: one playing Marquis de Lafayette and other James Armistead Lafayette, who spied for the Patriots at the Marquis’ request, and, after some inexcusable delays by the state of Virginia, finally won his freedom for his service.

Duke of Glouchester St.
Duke of Glouchester St.The Magazine and its arms.
Duke of Glouchester St.Duke of Glouchester St. MagazineThe Courthouse and nearby stocks. No rotten tomatoes on hand for tossing.
Duke of Glouchester St. Courthouse

Duke of Glouchester St. Courthouse stocks

Botetourt St.
Colonial Williamsburg The reconstructed Capitol was the second-to-last place we visited, taking a late-afternoon tour. Nicely done, I thought, though the authenticity of the redesign has been questioned.
Colonial Williamsburg CapitolColonial Williamsburg CapitolThe last place was Charlton’s Coffeehouse, where a foundation employee (“costumed interpreter”) in 18th-century garb showed us around and served visitors either coffee, tea or hot chocolate. Most of us tried the chocolate, as Ann and I did. Colonial hot chocolate included a variety of flavors not usually associated with modern hot chocolate. If I remember right, almonds, cinnamon and nutmeg in our case, but no rum. Our time is decidedly more abstemious than Colonial days when it comes to alcohol. Tasty anyway.

Some people expect the costumed interpreters to be actors (see above). To varying degrees they were in character, but mostly their job was to explain what went on in a particular building, and in the places like the foundry and silversmith and printing office, demonstrate some of the 18th-century work techniques. I had no complaints.

The fellow in the foundry turned out pewterware before our eyes and the young woman who showed us around the coffeeshop was informative and entertaining, telling us for instance the story of the tax collector (under the Stamp Act, I believe) who was greeted at the coffeehouse by a committee (mob) of citizens who suggested he find other work for himself. Wisely, he did.

There are restaurants at Colonial Williamsburg in some of the “taverns,” but I didn’t want to spend time at a sit-down restaurant when there were other things to see. So we subsisted on snacks during the visit, which are available in Colonial-themed small stores here and there on the grounds.

The 21st-century snacks were good.

UVA, Part 2: Nap at the Rotunda, the Lawn Obscured & Homer the Fundraiser

From the street, the approach to the Rotunda, the Thomas Jefferson-designed signature building of the University of Virginia in Charlottesburg, is up a series of steps overlooked by a bronze of Jefferson.
UVA RotundaUVA RotundaThe Rotunda’s entrance is on the other side, facing the wide expanse of the Lawn, which is a quadrangle lawn surrounded by buildings, the likes of which you see at other American college campuses. Though the UVA Lawn had antecedents, its Lawn likely inspired the others.

“Standing at the north end of the University’s Lawn with its flanking faculty pavilions and student rooms, the Rotunda is based on the Pantheon in Rome,” says a NPS site on World Heritage Sites in the United States.

“Its Lawn continues to serve as a model for centralized green areas on university campuses. Reconstructed in 1899, after being severely damaged in a fire, the Rotunda retains many of its original Jeffersonian design elements and remains a physical embodiment of his illustrious legacy.”

I’d read a bit about the Jeffersonian UVA buildings — collectively the Academical Village — and wanted to look down from the Rotunda balcony at the sweep of the Lawn, as generations have before me. I expected a fine view.

Well, almost.
UVA RotundaSome kind of event in preparation. Eventually, I would find out what.

We’d arrived about an hour before the Rotunda closed, so in we went, to see the stately rooms and artwork. The stateliest space is a floor up, under the dome.
UVA RotundaHowever stately the Rotunda might appear at this moment, it has had a bumpy history, especially the 1895 fire.

An oculus is at the tip-top of the dome. Apparently it has a long history of leaking.

UVA Rotunda

Students were tucked away at tables and alcoves in the Rotunda, attending to books and papers but mostly electronics. Besides being a masterpiece of neoclassical design, the brainchild of Thomas Jefferson and part of a World Heritage site, the Rotunda is also a place where students hang out. We too sat down for a few minutes.

When I wanted to go, Ann wanted to stay, relaxing in one of the Rotunda’s comfy chains. So she did, while I headed out into the rest of the Academical Village for the next hour. Maybe she took a light nap while I was gone.

Heading out, I noticed this structure. Not actually part of the Academical Village, but pretty close by.
UVA University ChapelThe University Chapel. “The Gothic Revival building was designed by Charles Emmett Cassell of Baltimore, the chapel’s cornerstone was laid in 1885, and the chapel was dedicated in 1889… The University Chapel no longer holds regular religious services, but weddings and memorial services still take place inside.”
UVA University ChapelSome kind of meeting was going on inside when I stopped by, so I didn’t linger too long. From there, I happened on one of the Academical Village’s 10 walled gardens, which are behind the row of buildings that flank the Lawn. Nice, but I suppose spring or summer would be the best time to wander through the gardens.

Academical Village Garden

I made my way along the Lawn’s side buildings. I hadn’t read enough about the Academical Village to realize that some of the buildings still include student rooms; originally they were the school’s only housing. A few doors were open and even a few Sunday-afternoon student get-togethers were visible inside. Must be special rooms in the scheme of UVA student housing. What do you have to do to be assigned one of them? (The polite way to ask that question.)

Further down the Lawn, I was hoping for a good look at the Rotunda. Well, almost.
Rotunda UVAAt the south end of the Lawn is the impressive Old Cabell Hall.
Old Cabell HallTopped by a Greek inscription dating from a time when students studied Greek. Also, a time when optimistic inscriptions were carved on prominent buildings. The Greek is John 8:32, “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

“A bookend to the University’s Rotunda, Cabell Hall was one of three buildings designed for the south end of the Lawn by architect Stanford White of McKim, Mead & White,” UVA says. “Completed and dedicated in 1898, the building was named in honor of Joseph C. Cabell, a member of both the Virginia legislature and the UVA Board of Visitors, and a steadfast ally of Mr. Jefferson as he sought to win state approval and funding for the University.

“Since 1951, Cabell Hall has housed the McIntire Department of Music and the Music Library as well as the University’s principal lecture and concert hall. Its auditorium has a seating capacity of 851 and hosts more than 200 public performances and events each year.”

Including a performance on October 13. I wandered in and heard music coming from the auditorium. No admission, so I sat in for a few minutes, and was treated to a bit of a Anyango Yarbo-Davenport violin recital (I don’t know what she was playing; but here’s a recording of her work.)

I would have stayed longer, but I wanted to get back to the Rotunda to meet Ann at closing time. Just outside Old Cabell, workers were erecting a large temporary pavilion — which is why I didn’t get a broader view of Old Cabell. What was all the hubbub on the Lawn, anyway?

Then I saw a sign that explained all: a coming fundraising event. Learning is fine and all, but fundraising — that’s job one for today’s Academical Village.

The university also notes: “Directly in front of Cabell Hall stands a 1907 bronze sculpture, created by Moses J. Ezekiel, of blind Homer and his guide.”

Homer was inside the temporary pavilion, which was a work site, so I didn’t go in. I could see the shadow of the statue from outside.
Home Lawn UVAAnother sign called the upcoming event Brunch With Homer. The idea amused me. I’d pony up a few dollars for UVA if I thought I could see a Homer reenactor reciting one of his epics over a sumptuous brunch. Abbreviated and in English, of course, to resonate with a modern North American audience. But I don’t think that’s what the event planners had in mind.

UVA, Part 1: Rugby Road

We arrived behind the Rotunda of the University of Virginia at about 4 pm on October 13. Under cloudy skies, but the day was warm and good for walking around the picturesque campus. Even parking had been relatively painless, and at no cost, on a street a few blocks away.

We walked down Rugby Road to get to the Rotunda. At one point, we crossed a bridge over railroad tracks. A specific message had been painted on the inside of one of the safety walls.
Rugby Road Beta Bridge CharlottesvilleThere was evidence of repeated painting.
Rugby Road Beta Bridge CharlottesvilleLater, as we walked back to the car, I got a good look at the other side of the bridge.
Rugby Road Beta Bridge CharlottesvilleLocal tradition. I figured it had to be. Didn’t take long to find an article about the bridge — Beta Bridge — in UVA Today.

“For instance, one of the most notable landmarks on Grounds, Beta Bridge, has been at the center of its own tradition since just the latter half of the 20th century.

“Often brightly colored with hand-lettered messages spanning its length, the bridge carrying Rugby Road over the C&O Railroad tracks over the years has become the place for paintbrush-wielding students to express themselves.”

I don’t know whether Riley accepted or declined the proposal, or even if it was serious, but I was able to look up the unfortunate fate of Henry McDavid Reed. He was a UVA student who died of brain cancer in August.

That’s not all I found out about Rugby Road, which has a number of frat houses on it, and passes by the university’s art museum and architecture school, among other things. It’s also the title of a UVA drinking song, mostly sung to the tune of Charles Ives’ “Son of a Gambolier.”

Its first verse no doubt includes some of the cleaner lyrics:

From Rugby Road to Vinegar Hill, we’re gonna get drunk tonight.
The faculty’s afraid of us, they know we’re in the right,
So fill your cups, your loving cups, as full as full can be.
And as long as love and liquor last, we’ll drink to the U. of V.

The version on YouTube also has a verse that I suspect is left out these days.

All you girls from Mary Washington and RMWC,
Never let a Virginia man an inch above your knee.
He’ll take you to his fraternity house and fill you full of beer,
And soon you’ll be the mother of a bastard Cavalier!

RMWC would be Randolph-Macon Woman’s College in Lynchburg, which is now simply Randolph College. Mary Washington is the University of Mary Washington in Fredericksburg, Virginia.

If I’d thought about collegiate drinking songs when I was in college, I probably would have considered them hopelessly old fashioned — and that was 40 years ago. Maybe I didn’t hang out with the right crowd. Or the wrong crowd, take your pick.

Monticello

Here I am again, I thought as I stood on the west lawn of Monticello, a place of such enormous resonance, in the early afternoon of October 13, 2019. The nickel view.
MonticelloYet I had a hard time remembering much about my first visit, which was on September 4, 1988. Maybe that’s because 31 years is a long time. Or because the view of Monticello from the west lawn, which I’ve known as long as I’ve known Jefferson nickels — all my life, for all practical purposes — is as close as anything gets to changeless.

I do know that the first time I saw the building in person, I realized that the nickel has a uninspired representation of Monticello. Flat. In person, you see that it’s a place to gaze at from more than one angle.
MonticelloI’m holding a nickel in this picture, by the way.
MonticelloMonticelloA look at the eastern elevation. I’m glad to say that the house sports lightning rods, unlike a hilltop structure in Wisconsin that’s going to burn down after a strike someday.
MonticelloThe east entrance is where the interior tours start. Actually, no. You’re not getting in the building without starting at the David M. Rubenstein Visitor Center, which is down the hill from Jefferson’s home. That’s something different from 1988. The 42,000-square-foot visitors center has only been there for about 10 years.

Exactly where we bought tickets back then, I don’t remember, but I suspect it was simpler facility — not like the five pavilion-complex of the Rubenstein. Also, there were no timed tickets the first time around. I even think our tour was self-guided. Nor did I experience the warren of interconnected parking lots next to the visitors center, which was largely full. There must have been parking in 1988, and it too must have been simpler, but who remembers things like that?
MonticelloAlso: this interesting chronology tells me that I paid $7 in 1988 for my ticket. That’s just over $15 in current dollars. Note the 2019 ticket price: $26.95. Guess that extra $12 is going to pay for ever-fancier guest infrastructure.

In 1925, not long after the house was opened to paying visitors, admission was 50 cents — the equivalent of $3.88 in 1988 and $7.34 now, so I suppose ticket inflation has been an ongoing thing at Monticello.

I originally bought tickets online for the 10:45 am tour, but jammed traffic on I-64 just outside Charlottesville put us at the visitor center at 10:50. The helpful clerk didn’t bat an eye at that, and put us on a 12:30 pm tour (meeting at 12:25).

What that meant was that we had time to walk up the high hill to Monticello, as opposed to taking a shuttle bus, and stop roughly halfway up to see the Jefferson family graveyard, so it worked out for the best. Climbing gives you a sense of just how high the hill is. Besides, it’s a lovely path.
MonticelloThe burial ground is behind an ornate iron fence.
Monticello GraveyardMonticello GraveyardThere are a lot of Randolphs. Jefferson’s daughter Martha married a Randolph, and they were the fecund parents of 13 children, 11 of whom survived childhood.
Monticello GraveyardPresident Jefferson himself.
Monticello GraveyardThe path from the burial ground to Monticello proper takes you past the re-created garden, planted on a long terrace dug out of the side of the hill. In October, most of the vegetables have been harvested already, but some still linger.

Monticello Graveyard

Monticello GardenThe house tour, lead by a lively gray-haired gentleman who was probably a retired teacher, took us through the first floor, beginning with the entrance hall and its displays of Indian artifacts and animal horns and paintings and maps and such. Museums as such didn’t much exist in early Republic Virginia, so Jefferson created one for himself.

Then I remembered the Great Clock, hanging over the main entrance, from last time. A favorite of mine.

Other rooms feature books, furniture, paintings — including a Gilbert Stuart portrait of Jefferson probably painted when he was president — more books, oddly placed beds, scientific instruments, papers, clocks, busts, yet more books, and the dumbwaiter that he had installed to fetch wine from the cellar below, something else I remembered from 30 years ago. It’s an admirable clutter.

After Jefferson sold much of his library to the U.S. government to form the nucleus of the revived Library of Congress after the British burned the original one in 1814, he started accumulating books again. The only reasonable thing to do, and hang the cost. Libraries as such didn’t much exist in early Republic Virginia, so Jefferson created one for himself. Twice.

From Monticello’s FAQ:

Who built the house?

Local white masons and their apprentices did the stone and brickwork. Local carpenters, assisted by several Monticello slave carpenters, provided the rough structural woodwork. The fine woodwork (floors, cornices, and other moldings) was the work of several skilled white joiners, hired from as far away as Philadelphia. One Monticello slave, John Hemmings, who trained under the white workman James Dinsmore, became a very able joiner and carpenter.

How much did the house cost?

No one so far has managed to calculate the cost of Monticello with any degree of accuracy.

That is, the house was a money pit for the third president.

We also spent some time looking around the exhibits in the North and South Pavilions, which are structures that branch away from the main house, though they don’t seem directly connected. We poked around such places as the wine cellar and the beer cellar next to it, plus the elaborate kitchen, which naturally wasn’t part of the main house. When you dined with Thomas Jefferson, the feast must have been sumptuous.

There are a few outbuildings. Such as this slave cabin replica, built since I visited last time.
slave cabin MonticelloI don’t remember exactly how much emphasis Monticello put on slavery during my first visit. I suspect it was a matter not of denying it, but not talking much about it either.
I can report that in 2019, not only does Monticello not deny the importance of enslaved labor at the house and farm, or the humanity of the enslaved, the official texts talk about it quite a lot. Including the Sally Hemings and Hemings family story — which rates a room of its own in one of the pavilions and a video. That pendulum has swung.

Monument Avenue, Richmond

Our original plan had been to visit Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond after the American Civil War Museum on the afternoon of October 12. But as so often happens in tourist mode, plans change. It was nearly 5 by the time we left the museum, too late to get to and see the cemetery that day.

But not too late to drive over to Monument Avenue, which I’d considered a secondary destination when planning the trip. Monument Avenue is northwest of downtown, with one terminus not far from the campus of Virginia Commonwealth University, which was alive with students as we drove through.

The avenue struck me as more of a boulevard, at least as that term is used in North America, with its long, wide median.
Monument Avenue RichmondNever mind the nomenclature. It’s a grand street with lined with trees and handsome houses. The plaque pictured above says that the Monument Avenue Historic District is a National Historic Landmark, and has been since 1977.

Picturesque as the avenue is, we came to see some of the monuments while they’re still here. However solid they appear now, they might not be in this place too many more years. A time to keep, and a time to cast away. That adds an extra layer of fascination.

The largest and oldest of the monuments, completed in 1890, depicts Robert E. Lee. It’s positioned in a large traffic circle.
Monument Avenue RichmondInteresting that Lee Monument Association commissioned the work from a Frenchman, Antonin Mercié, who later created statues of Lafayette and Francis Scott Key in this country. The 21-foot bronze rests on a 40-foot granite pedestal designed by another Frenchman, architect Paul Pujot. Guess France was the place to go for this kind of work; it was the Belle Époque, after all.

On all four sides of the massive plinth are signs of our time.
Monument Avenue RichmondFortunately, open parallel parking spaces weren’t hard to find on Monument Avenue, so we drove to the northwest a few blocks and parked near another large memorial: Jefferson Davis, created by Richmond sculptor Edward V. Valentine and architect William C. Noland.
Monument Avenue RichmondTo my eye, simply on aesthetic grounds, it isn’t nearly as impressive as Lee’s monument. The general is astride his steed, in a firm pose, perhaps surveying the battlefield. The plinth sports precisely one word: LEE.

By contrast, Davis is standing on a pedestal, arm out, overshadowed by a much taller column topped by an allegory. More columns (13) are behind Davis, symbolizing each state represented in the Confederate Congress. There’s verbiage all over, in English and Latin. It’s a busy bit of business.

Besides being as Lost Cause as a monument can possibly be — Davis’ pedestal says Jefferson Davis/Exponent of/Constitutional Principals/Defender of/the Rights of States — the work is as embarrassingly Victorian as can be, despite being completed in 1907. It was in the works a long time, being delayed by (among other things) the Panic of 1893. I’m not one to reflexively mock Victorians, who invented so much of the world we live in, but sometimes their expressed sentiment is just too damn much.

According to Virginia Places, “the literature created for the statue dedication… reads, ‘Symbolized in the Vindicatrix, which crowns the shaft of the monument… the emblem of Southern womanhood fitly stands, the immortal spirit of her land, shining unquenched within her eyes, and her hand uplifted in an eternal appeal to the God of justice and truth.’ ”

That was enough memorial-spotting for the day, so I turned my attention to the neighborhood. Memorial Avenue features quite a few impressive homes.
Monument Ave RichmondMonument Ave RichmondIncluding a Ronald McDonald House. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen one of those before.

Ronald McDonald House, Virginia

As I walked back to the car — Ann had stayed behind when I went to see the Davis memorial — I came across a cannon on the median.
Monument Ave RichmondThe plaque says: This cannon marks the spot where in 1861, a large earthwork of the inner line of defense was constructed.

Small and probably not much noticed. It might well last longer than any of the large memorials.