Dear Family, Friends, and Diary,
We started a new road trip, the South West Road Trip (SWRT), on Friday the 13th. Good timing. If all goes well for six weeks, we will make it through southern California, the southern edge of Arizona and New Mexico, touch Texas, and head north to Santa Fe and Taos. And return. What could go wrong?
For starters, there are fires in the west. Next week we plan to pass right through a part of the California coast where a couple dozen multi-million dollar homes just went up in smoke. We are counting on that disaster to be cleaned up in 8 or 9 days. At the far end of the SWRT, we note that Santa Fe is currently bracketed by forest fires on the east and west. Currently, it would not be possible to stay there because hotels are filled with evacuees and the air is filled with smoke. Can it be fixed in the three weeks it would take us to get there?
No matter. We packed up, arranged for yard and house care, said goodbye to neighbors, our back porch dove, and other yard pets. We do worry about our garden and old house being left behind, especially as summer heat comes on. It will get inspected a few days a week and we will just hope. Yes, our plan is hope.
Our drive from Fresno was uneventful, boring but uneventful. San Joaquin Valley farms passed by for hours, visible in between trucks and traffic. The Tesla needed one refilling, so we stopped at El Taejon Ranch before we headed over the Grapevine. The two-dozen charging stalls were mostly full, something we encountered on this trip more than ever before. Nevertheless, we found a connection, went next door to Chipotle for take-out lunch, and satisfied the car and passengers. It seemed like a real road meal.
Our first SWRT stop was Sierra Madre at Marianne's cousin Bonny's home of forty-plus years. The house is a classic California ranch, stretched out and spacious. Inside, the living room is a good space for conversation, necessary after the years its been since we last were here. Conversations are the best part of any visit.
The large backyard was perfect for the barbecue salmon our hostess offered, but guests joined us. A blue jay asked for a snack, encouragement prohibited by house rules. Overhead, a Cooper's Hawk chased smaller birds for our entertainment (and his meal?) The outside part of the evening ended when bats showed up.
Saturday started with a slow breakfast at home, with time spent planning our stay. For our ten days in the LA area, we have a few stops on our bucket list, but will need more. That's one reason why starting at Bonny's B&B is so useful since she is a veteran of showing folks around. She had already selected the excursion for this day, south in Rancho Cucamonga (one of my favorite town names!)
Our goal was the Sam and Alfreda Maloof Garden and Gallery. Sam has been called the father of "studio craft woodworking" and his home and gallery became famous for woodwork of exquisite detail and design. After serving in World War II, Maloof started his work in the garage of a small bungalow and over the next sixty-plus years his fame and shop-gallery grew and grew. In the late 90s, his extensive gallery, home, and shops were all moved from the path of the 210 freeway to an orange grove a few miles away. Today, the buildings display his work and Alfreda's art collection, while also serving as a base for artist-woodworkers to learn and develop their own craft.
Dennis was the docent for our guided tour and he infused the two hours with humor and details of the Maloof legacy. I have no chance of replaying much of the story, because there was just too much detail! Interestingly, he cautioned against taking pictures, noting that there was so much picture-worthy inside the gallery that photography became a distraction both for him and visitors. Nonetheless, he was flexible, and I appreciated the chance to work in a few discrete samples.
Sam Maloof built the building himself as he gradually earned enough to pay for room by room expansion in the 1950s through 1990s. During his career he made over 5,000 items (not counting the house itself) and continued working up until he passed in 2009. We saw only a fraction of what he crafted, but it gives new meaning to workmanship, joinery, design, and furniture grace.
Here is what I did manage to capture:
Next to the gallery was the Jacobs Education Center, featuring local art, including stitchery that I found fascinating, but it was not Marianne's thing. Maybe it was her preference for abstract and my bent toward "drawings".
The gardens were also worth the walk, even in the ninety-degree afternoon, both for the native plantings and for the views of the Maloof buildings.
A visit would not be complete without a swing through the gift shop. Marianne picked up a few easy-to-pack post cards, while I debated a book or two. In hindsight, in ordeer to better remember our experience here, I should have bought them. Next time.
On our way home, we passed through Claremont, looking for lunch. Unfortunately, it was a graduation weekend and everything was full. (How many years ago were we here for Geoff's Harvey Mudd graduation? A zillion.) We also passed by a Roe-vs-Wade protest and joined in spirit and horn tooting.
After another 40-minute ride on "the 210", we made it back to Bonny's and a simple sandwich dinner and quiet evening. While the girls chatted, I sorted through the pictures you see above. For our way of traveling, I can't imagine a better tour day. Thanks Bonny!
I started the day at the office. I recognize that I am most comfortable with habit and routine, things that travel disrupts. Consequently, I value these early morning sessions when I can find office space where I can leisurely review yesterday's photos and build our daily record. The small Sierra Madre Starbucks was perfect.
Back home, plans were being made for our tourism day. We always knew that our LA stay would be heavy on art museums and galleries and, on this Sunday, we headed to a local Pasadena landmark, The Norton Simon Museum.
Norton Simon, born in 1907, was a very successful businessman who built a multi-national collection of companies from the 1920s onwards. In 1929, as the Great Depression hit, he bought Hunt Foods for a bargain $7,000 and aggressively added to that base over the next decades. Starting in the 1950s, he and his wife began collecting art with the same passion he had employed for businesses, eventually becoming one the largest art collectors in the world. In the mid-70s, they started housing their collection at the current Pasadena location.
We would see just a fraction of the art on display, passing on the earlier "classic" periods for the 20th Century. We posed at the Rodin sculptures around the entrance, paid our entrance, turned left, and found ourselves surrounded by famous and almost-famous pieces from the 1900s.
The trouble with trying to record an art gallery visit is that there are far too many picture-worthy subjects. I'll show just a small fraction. You need to make your own visit to get a true appreciation.
After art, we did a drive-by tour of Pasadena homes. Many of these were the Arts and Crafts classics by Greene and Green or other famous architects, homes far more elaborate than our own 1925 Arts and Crafts house in Los Gatos, 30 years ago. At one point, we got out to peer into the grounds of Millard House (aka La Miniatura), a Frank Lloyd Wright house built almost 100 years ago. It needs attention, but that would be well beyond our new-project budget.
Lunch-dinner was in Pasadena: margaritas and great Yucatan dishes. Of course we opted for outdoor space, a practice we will continue to the degree possible, a concession to the Covid era. We do worry that this travel puts us at risk of catching the disease we have avoided for two years, but continuing isolation just isn't how we want to spend our remaining time.
Back at home, we just hung out, probably the best part of visiting with friends. Marianne and Bonny discussed Hidas family stories, each contributing bits and pieces. I will not repeat the gossip.
The evening highlight was a lunar eclipse, not as dramatic as a solar eclipse, but good enough. Taking pictures of the moon as it gradually turned red and dark was almost impossible, but I tried. Trust us, the in-person experience was better.
Monday was unplanned, mostly. I went to the office for diary writing, opting for an outside desk because there was a crowd inside Starbucks. I don't know when we will feel comfortable with people all around, especially where masks are not practical. Covid-Omicron cases are increasing, so I expect to stay wary for quite some time. Darn.
Back home, Bonny left for a stint at trail maintenance, one of the volunteer efforts that keep her busy when visitors are not imposing. Marianne and I used the time to walk in the neighborhood, surveying the mix of old California ranch-style homes and newer McMansions. We both prefer the older, simpler styles, but they may be tear-down targets as land values increase. I forgot to take pictures of houses we did or did not like, but flowers and birds always seem to draw my attention and focus.
When the trail builder came home, we had a quick meal and convinced her to take us on a shortened tour of Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens, better known simply as "The Huntington". Bonny volunteers as a school student guide here and we took advantage of her experience.
The grounds are immense and there are several buildings, so we saw just a small fraction of all that was available. Our very specific goal was the Art Museum's portrait gallery, where Gainsborough's famous "The Blue Boy" normally hangs. Recently, the 18th Century work has been on loan somewhere famous (but I forget where). In its place hangs "Portrait of a Young Gentleman" by Kehinde Wiley. "Portrait ... ", formally the same name as The Blue Boy, depicts a young black man, classically posed, with updated details symbolizing wealth and power, just as was done in the paintings from over 200 years ago. The contrast with the other characters in the room is striking and, reportedly, controversial. We are on the side that applauds.
Elsewhere in the Huntington House and in the Art Museum, we zoomed past any number of sights: ornate rooms, paintings, crafts, and everything else it takes to fill up so much space. The rooms seemed like castles we saturated on in Europe. Our painting focus was limited to modern works, not unlike what we have been seeing elsewhere. Some of the furniture was similar to what we have at home from our own "Bavarian Collection". A few pictures:
The gardens were a challenge all by themselves. Everywhere, there were examples of all sorts of plantings from expansive rose gardens, to acres of flowering vines and bushes. The Chinese and Japanese gardens could have required a day themselves. An amazing place.
Whew! That was a lot of work.
For dinner, we opted for a trip to Taylor's Market and picked up steaks for barbecue. We ate in the backyard, watching and listening to the birds that surrounded us. It was a nice way to end the day.
The next day would be more art, this time in a Beverly Hills mansion. Really.
It was Tuesday, May 17, and we were half way through our art museum marathon. Someone had recommended to Bonny a tour at the Frederick R. Weisman Art Foundation and what a recommendation it was. Required reservations were made, including complete names, occupations, and Covid vaccination testaments.
We made the required drive over on wide and crowded freeways and then a narrow canyon road down into Beverley Hills. We arrived a half-hour before the assigned 10:25 arrival time, so we toured the neighborhood to see how the 1% (or 0.1%) live. Most homes were surrounded by massive but carefully landscape walls, so we could see little more. No Hollywood stars. At precisely the appointed time, the gate to our mansion slid open.
Outside, a small group of visitors donned masks and passed the massive doorway into another world. One of the rules of this world was that there could be no indoor pictures. (This is actually a picture of a book page.) Frankly, I was glad to forego a camera, because I would be tempted to capture each of the over 400 pieces of art filling each room of the sprawling 1920s home and modern addition.
From the tour pamphlet: "The collection includes works by European Modernists including Cezanne, Picasso, and Kandinsky and Surrealist works by Ernst, Miro, and Magritte. The holdings in postwar art include works by Giacometti, Noguchi, Calder, Rauschenberg, and Johns; Abstract Expressionist paintings by Frankenthaler, Louis, and Noland; and Pop Art by Warhol, Lichtenstein, Oldenburg, and Rosenquest. Contemporary California works include those by Ruscha and Goode, and Super Realist sculptures by Hanson and Andrea."
And there were pieces from more than just this list of 20th Century icons.
We were allowed to photograph in our swing through the back gardens, so I did.
For almost two hours, we moved from piece to piece, room to room, inside and out. Every nook and corner and wall and ceiling had attractions. It was truly overwhelming. I believe it may have been the finest art collection I have ever seen, presented in the home as the Weismans would have lived and entertained in.
It was all quite amazing and the only cost was optional, $40 for a huge book that explained each and every room and piece we had seen. We will put it out on our coffee table for you to see when we get back home to humble Fresno.
From Beverley Hills, we drove to a Tesla Supercharger in Altadena, where Carla got a charge and the three of us enjoyed In 'n' Out Burgers, a new experience for Marianne and me and one we expect to repeat.
Back home, we relaxed and got ready for our upcoming trips, Bonny to New York to visit son Dean and the two of us off to more adventures, immensely grateful for our gracious hostess.
Stay tuned,
John and Marianne