As promised, here are a few photos of my studio at Ucross, taken shortly after I settled in.
Here are a few shots of the interior (click to see a larger version of each photo):
A little seating area right outside my door:
And various views from the front porch of the studio/cabin:
So here I sit in my studio at Ucross, 12 hours after having woken up this morning in New York City. One of the more drastic changes of scenery I’ve experienced.
I really don’t know how I managed to function this morning (or continue to function now, for that matter) after a whopping 4½ hours of sleep. Darien and I went to bed around midnight last night, after having finished watching series 4 of Doctor Who, one of our televisory obsessions. My alarm went off at 4:30, and I magically managed to get out of bed, shower, get dressed, and have my luggage all in order by 5:30 – all without having crawled back into bed, or fallen asleep standing up.
The flight from LaGuardia to Denver was, I would imagine, uneventful – I’m not a reliable source, as I immediately fell asleep as soon as we took off at 7:30. I was only awake for the last 20 minutes or so of the 4-hour flight, during which time I was more than a little disoriented.
We landed a few minutes ahead of schedule, which was a pleasant surprise. But, any time we may have gained was lost when the jetway refused to budge at our gate, and we were stuck on the plane for another half hour while first we waited for the maintenance men to arrive and fix it, and then taxied to another gate when it became clear that the jetway wasn’t going to budge. By this time, of course, several passengers had already missed their flights (my seatmate missed his connection to LA). I, of course, was in a silent panic – my connection to Sheridan boarded at 10:30, and it was already 10:00!
It was 10:10 by the time I got off of the plane, and I had 20 minutes to make it from Concourse B to Concourse A, which requires a lot of walking, a shuttle train, and a lot more walking. By some miracle, I was only 3 minutes late for the first boarding call, by which time I was, of course, the last one to get on the plane – the flight had a whopping 13 passengers aboard. I heard my name being called over the PA just as I reached Concourse A, and run-walked as fast as I could without breaking into a dead sprint (I always imagine being tackled by security should I start running in an airport – the sort of helpfulness I’ve come to expect while traveling).
The flight to Sheridan, as expected, was in a tiny plane with propellers – not my favorite of experiences, but one that I’m willing to endure. As I stepped onto the plane, I couldn’t help but notice the dominant smell – manure – and couldn’t help but wonder if it was the plane itself, or if it was the ranchers sitting in the back seat. A little from Column A…?
This is my first trip west of the Mississippi (save for a brief trip into Iowa many, many years ago – and Iowa doesn’t really count), so I spent a considerable amount of time staring out the window at the foreign terrain. All rivers and roads. Rivers branching and branching back toward their sources – water from…where? Meandering roads cutting across open land, seeming to go nowhere. Roads completely unlike the rigid grid of upper Manhattan. And bearing little resemblance to the straight-line roads of rural Illinois: an intersection every mile, marking off one mile by one mile squares of land.
And haze. Not that haze is unusual – natural humidity, air pollution – it’s to be expected. But there was a second horizon – a knife-edge line separating blue, blue, cloudless sky from mauve haze. Looking down was like scrolling through Google Earth on a dirty computer screen, without the zoom function. (Any ‘zooming’ would likely be lethal in this case.)
And then the mountains appeared. Big, beautiful….mountainous….
I was greeted at the Sheridan County Airport by Kate, one of the Ucross Groundskeepers, who kindly shuttled me to the grocery store before driving me to the colony (a Celiac sufferer must always be prepared when they’re not in complete control over meals, and especially when traveling). Kate gave me an overview of the grounds, and handed me over to Ruthie, the Residency Coordinator, who gave me the grand tour.
My studio is gorgeous – a cabin off of the Rock Studios, feet from a handful of creeks, and with a gorgeous view of mountains. And my living quarters are also quite well-appointed. It’s all rather more and rather larger than I had expected, and I look forward to exploring the grounds more in the coming days and weeks. I’ve already taken a few photos, which I’ll upload soon.
The day so far has consisted of unpacking my suitcase, walking over to my studio (eyes peeled for rattlesnakes – yikes!), exploring the studio, and taking a few photos. Mostly, I’m getting a feel for the space, and relaxing from a long, long, long day of travel. I managed to play through what I have written of “Take All My Loves” for the ISU Concert Choir, but today is a relaxing day, not a working day.
On July 21 & 28, Kaity and I visited Joel again to pick his brain and get the skinny on his relationship with David. And, as expected, Joel had a lot to share with us. The two met while they were both in residence at Yaddo (I’m researching those residency dates now). Later, when Joel was living at Philip Roth’s house, during the period of his (Joel’s) Guggenheim fellowship, he got in touch with David, asking if David ever visited New York. As it happened, David was living in Manhattan, subletting the studio at the Westbeth where he now lives full-time. Shortly thereafter, Joel started as the executive director of the Modern Language Association, which caused him to move to New York City, effectively jump-starting the relationship. In that two-hour session, we heard about travels to various parts of the country for performances of David’s works; summers spent in Grosse Point, VT on the estate of Sylvie Kaiser as a sort of private artist colony; and the trajectory of their relationship.
On our second visit, we delved a little more into Joel’s past, and had him comment on and reminisce over photos and letters that we found in his archives. The photos were a particularly big help to us, because they gave us more people and places to pursue in our research.
We only had two setbacks, both technical difficulties. Kaity’s audio recorder didn’t record our first interview. Fortunately, mine was running properly, but it was positioned a little too close to the air conditioner, so Joel is difficult to hear on occasion; not to mention the annoyingly loud, ever-present hum of the window unit that we dared not turn off because of the horrific heat and humidity that New York was experiencing at the time.
On August 19, Kaity and I visited David for our eighth interview, to bombard him with the things that we’d come across in Joel’s archives, and the scanning that I’ve been doing of David’s files. We managed to jog a lot of memories loose by mentioning names and places, and little stories we’d heard or read. A very productive interview.
Our research is going on hold, now, through the end of September since I’ll be at the Ucross Foundation in Clearmont, WY, and Kaity will be starting the Fall semester of classes at NYU (after a grueling summer of internships and classes – I’m continually amazed that she’s not taking any time off during her second Master’s, but will have attended every available session of classes from Sept 2008 to May 2010!). In the meantime, I’m sure we’ll manage to dig up little tidbits – I’m sending out emails and making calls about Joel’s various residencies and jobs during the time he was with David, responses to which will trickle in over the next few weeks – but our concentration will be temporarily elsewhere until I’m back in New York City in late September. Then we start our next barrage of interviews with people around David!
I discovered this afternoon, much to my chagrin, that the Tobenski Music Press PDF storefront hasn’t been working properly since April. So, I just spent the past hour and a half updating my PayPal settings and upgrading my LinkLok files (I sure would have appreciated an email from the LL folks when the updated version rolled out in April…). After a sizable number of test transactions and their corresponding refunds to myself, I have the storefront up and working again!
On the one hand, at least no one tried to purchase anything in that time, so no one was inconvenienced (I receive emails of all purchases, and would have been able to have fixed it immediately, so it would only have been a minor inconvenience). On the other hand, nobody even tried to purchase anything during that time! Which left me a) without any idea that there even was a problem, and b) having managed not to have sold a single score in five months!
So now that everything’s working again, buy! buy! buy! Or just donate on the Links page because you love me so much.
The new piano arrived today: a Gulbransen upright, which was manufactured in 1959. (I learned this afternoon that the Story & Clark was manufactured in 1956.) I’ll post some photos of it later today or tomorrow – as soon as it’s all settled in, and I’ve managed to put my apartment back together.
The move was remarkably smooth, compared to when the Story & Clark was moved in. The Gulbransen moved out of David and Ray’s apartment on W 11th at 12.30, and made it up to my place in about an hour. (Also, who should I run into as I waited outside the building, but Joel! Not a major surprise, as he lives just down the hall from David and Ray, but a pleasant one nonetheless.) I’d managed to move the Story & Clark out of the way before I went down to 11th to meet the movers so that they could just put it exactly where I wanted it. It helped everyone that the 11th St building has an elevator; otherwise, carrying the piano down 7 flights of turning stairs would be little fun, and very expensive! My building, though, has two flights of stairs leading to my door, and the second flight has two nasty little turns that are more than a little tight. The second turn is the tightest, but surprisingly was the easier of the two this time. Last time, the three movers had major problems navigating that turn. Maybe it helped that there were only two movers this time? One less guy to get in the way?
Most unpleasant for the movers, though, was the heat and humidity. It was nearing 90° – a high so far this summer – and the humidity was pretty awful, as it has been recently. Hoisting a piano up a tight stairwell with no real ventilation to speak of – less than completely pleasant. I know I was sweating just watching them!
The piano was moved in without incident, though, and I’m already in love with it. I’m especially in love because it’s still in tune. I think it was last tuned in November, and it managed to hold its tune (save for a few keys at the extremes) through the move.
The Story & Clark… I can’t find a taker, unfortunately. I’ve called a few piano repair shops and asked if they’d like it for parts, but they don’t have much call for Story & Clark parts. And no artists have taken an interest in it. So, I may just make my own art project out of it. Bits of it I’ll turn into shelving. Some pieces will end up on my wall as froufy decoration. The rest… I’ll put out by the street for the garbage men to pick up.
