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Architecture, art, and craft in Asheville

As more people begin to put their toes in the water to travel this fall, National Trust Tours brought twenty-five hearty souls to western North Carolina last week.

Asheville has attracted visitors for thousands of years, drawn by the region’s natural beauty and abundant resources. Over the past two centuries the city’s attractions have expanded to include world-class architecture and the superb craftsmanship of both fine and folk art.

The view of the mountains on an early morning walk at Craggy Pinnacle
Entrance court at Biltmore House
Asheville’s striking Art Deco City Hall under a full moon.

As the educational expert for our exploration of this small gem of a city, I suggested our travelers look for three key elements as they toured: stories, vision, and action. Why? Great communities don’t stay that way by chance. Those that survive connect people with place, know where they want to go, and work tirelessly to make it happen.


Stories are at the heart of great communities

Former New York Times architectural critic Herbert Muschamp said that,

“the essential feature of a landmark is not its design, but the place it holds in a city’s memory.”

The stories we tell of those memories add to the continuum of past, present, and future, intertwining people and place. 

Sunrise in the land of the Eastern Band of the Cherokee

Great communities work to tell stories that help us understand a broader history, and Asheville’s begins with its Indigenous People. Asheville occupies the land of the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians, one of eight historic tribes in North Carolina.

Young Men’s Institute

Great communities are curious about their full history, identify other stories that we are not hearing, and work to broaden ownership and control of the narratives of those histories. Stories around places like the “The Young Men’s Institute,” one of the oldest, most unique and beautiful Black cultural centers in the United States. The building, funded by George Vanderbilt to establish an institution for the Black construction workers employed at Biltmore Estate, was the multi-use center that churches, schools and civic organizations used for gatherings in the segregated South. The current director is from a family that has used the facility and its programs for years.

On the tour, our guests also heard soap opera-like stories of the love-hate relationship of E.W. Grove and his son-in-law Fred Seely. Grove was the financial backer and builder of the innovative Grove Arcade shopping plaza in downtown as well as for the remarkable Arts-and-Crafts inspired Grove Park Inn on the edge of town. Seely played a big role in designing and operating the Inn in its early years. Their falling out came over an age-old issue: who gets credit and who takes control.

The Grove Arcade in downtown Asheville, built by the visionary E.W. Grove and attracting tourists and shoppers today.
View of the Historic Grove Park Inn from the entrance to the current spa
Morning view from the Sunset Terrace at the Grove Park Inn
Roycroft clock in the Main Hall of the Grove Park Inn
The Palm Court at the Grove Park Inn

As we toured downtown, we heard stories of the people who built the city’s remarkable collection of buildings, learning that the legendary S&W Cafeteria in a beautiful Art Deco masterpiece was founded by two World War I mess sergeants…putting human faces rebounding from war and destruction to fresh stone, brick, and terra cotta.

The stunning Art Deco S&W Cafeteria Building in Asheville

It was clear from the stories and the buildings that Asheville “danced to the tune of flocking tourists and new growth” in the 1920s.

Kress Building
Interior of the Asheville Masonic Lodge
Downtown Asheville architecture

By the Roaring 20s, the community already had a heritage of splendid architecture thanks to Richard Morris Hunt, Frederick Law Olmsted, Richard Sharp Smith and Raphael Guastavino ― all grand masters associated with development of the Biltmore Estate. 

Biltmore Estate Facade Detail
Bookcases in the Biltmore House Library
Biltmore House Library
Steps for horse and carriage
Gardens at the Biltmore Estate
Conservatory at Biltmore
View of Biltmore Dining Hall from back staircase

There are stories of risk takers in Asheville, who brought with them creativity and a sense of architectural adventure. Creativity such as George Vanderbilt’s decision to raise cattle at Biltmore to produce the manure needed to fertilize the replanting of the thousands of acres of forests. Architectural adventure as found in Raphael Guastavino’s magnificent Basilica of St. Lawrence.

And architectural adventure as found in the surprising First Baptist Church, designed by architect Douglas Ellington. It is a four-story, domed, polygonal brick building with Art Deco design influences.

Finally, there is the story of the Depression, where the city inherited the highest per capita debt burden in the nation. Such terrible news offered a corollary that turned into a godsend. Asheville determined it would pay back every cent, so it literally couldn’t afford to tear down any of its jewel-like building inventory. 

That’s also key to Asheville’s story and its understanding of itself. We are resilient, they tell the visitor, and look what we have as a result.

All great communities have stories that they use to tie past, present, and future together. But stories without a vision for the future are just dusty memories.


Vision is about knowing where you want to go

Great communities were often built on a vision, and they are always saved for our generation because a group of dedicated citizens had a vision for the future. During out stay, we heard about the visions of those who created the architecture and landscapes that make Asheville such a treasured and unique place.

Milfoil Cottage in Albemarle Park

But we also heard that it took the vision of preservationists in the 1960s and 70s in Asheville to save key parts of the city from the wrecking ball. Community members ― with a different vision for the future ― fought against the instinct for demolition and fought for preservation. Inappropriate development spurred formation of the Preservation Society of Asheville and Buncombe County. Today, PSABC headquarters its professional staff in the sales office for historic Grove Park.

Headquarters of the Preservation Society of Asheville and Buncombe County

We heard stories about the impacts of demolition that led to the vision for preservation. For instance, on Sept. 27, 1979, the Asheville Housing Authority received a brief letter from Mrs. E.W. White of Atlanta.

“My parents, Mr. and Mrs. Willie E. White of 218 South Beaumont Street, Asheville, N.C., have lived at this address almost fifty years. Although they are both in their seventies, they were none-the-less uprooted from their home and required to move by the Asheville Housing Authority. I can’t begin to tell you what this does to individuals who have built memories and accumulations around their residence for almost fifty years.”

Urban renewal hit Asheville hard. The East End neighborhood was a community “crucial for black survival and upward mobility. … The presence of local midwives and undertakers meant that neighborhood residents could patronize black-run businesses literally from the cradle to the grave.”

But years of redlining had limited investment in the East End, and it was easy for the community leaders to declare the area a blighted slum that needed to be removed. Valley Street, “the historic root of the neighborhood, was gone, redirected and renamed. … Pathways that connected lives and destinations were paved over to make municipal garages and administration buildings.”

Today, the Preservation Society is helping residents in Asheville reclaim their past and their community. They have a vision that takes what is left from the historic neighborhood and knits in similarly scaled-buildings to help bring past, present, and future together.

Vision is about shaping the communities we want, instead of accepting what others conceive for us.


Action means great communities work to make their vision a reality

Great communities knit together stories of people and place, develop a vision for the type of community they want to be, and then never, ever give up when faced with challenges, using the tools available.

Early on, PSABC leveraged the donation of a deteriorated house, stabilized it before selling to a new steward, and used the proceeds to establish their historic preservation revolving fund. The fund preserved Richmond Hill, and the proceeds from its sale helped finance the purchase of the Manor Inn, which we saw on our tour of Albemarle Park.

Manor Inn

Despite years of activism, Asheville faces challenges. The lack of city-supported protection tools leads to indiscriminate demolition. Lack of design review leads to development that is out-of-scale and incompatible with the community. And the lack of affordable housing leads to a situation where historic buildings are inappropriately blamed for the shortage.

Historic soda fountain in the repurposed Woolworth’s Building, now a thriving arts center

Activism never ends, and we’re now seeing all three of these issues in Asheville’s Charlotte Street controversy, where the society is fighting plans by a development company to demolish 12 historic homes and replace them with 181 residential units, and 50,000 square feet of retail.  The impacts of this project on the historic character of the neighborhood, local infrastructure, the environment and the community are countless. And because they have a vision, the Preservation Society has come up with alternatives that save the historic houses, add density to the neighborhood, maintains existing affordable housing, and creates green space.

There is a pattern in Asheville of young people and the creative class, knowledge workers, start-ups, and small businesses showing a preference for historic neighborhoods. A national analyses found that 34 percent of all homes, 44 percent of houses built between 1912 and 1960, and 59 percent of homes built before 1912 are bought by millennials. This is driven by the three C’s: the character of the neighborhoods, the cost of the housing, and the convenience.

It was a joy to spend the week in Asheville and see local preservationists doing the work to keep their community great by telling stories to knit the generations together, building a vision for the type of community that embraces its past as part of its future, and committing to a never-ending activism for a better future.

More to come…

DJB

Image: Biltmore House (top) and all photos except for historic YMI image by DJB.

Blending the boundaries of folk, indie, bluegrass, and roots music with Trout Steak Revival

After winning the 2014 Telluride Bluegrass Festival Band Competition, Trout Steak Revival quickly became “the quintessential Colorado string band. Defined more by expressive songwriting and heartfelt harmonies rather than any one genre, Trout Steak Revival crosses over and blends the bounds of folk, indie, bluegrass, and roots evoking its own style of Americana.”

I first heard this band — consisting of Bevin Foley on fiddle, Casey Houlihan on upright bass, William Koster on guitar and dobro, and Travis McNamara on banjo — on Sirius XM’s Bluegrass Junction. But in this Saturday Soundtrack, we’ll see that they really are less of a bluegrass outfit and more of a modern day string band, shifting between genres and styles with ease.

Brighter Every Day is the title track to Trout Steak Revival’s 2015 album, released as they were building on that Telluride win. Colorado River is from the same album.

While everyone in the band jumps in on vocals, I am especially drawn to those by Bevin Foley, as heard here on Go On.

From the 2017 album Spirit to the Sea, I’ve chosen to feature Fall at Your Feet and a live version of Take Heart.

The band has gone through some personnel changes, as all bands do. You can hear the maturing of the sound through their five albums. Released in 2020, their newest — The Light We Bring — showcases that growth as a band.

Arrows in the Dark from The Light We Bring displays the musicianship of the most recent iteration of the TSR quartet.

During the pandemic, TSR livestreamed this full concert from Mighty Fine Productions in Denver, Colorado. You might dip your toes in the water or sit and listen to the entire concert.

Let’s end with TSR — singing with a back-up trio — on the gospel-flavored Side of the Road.

Enjoy!

More to come…

DJB

Image: Trout Steak Revival (credit troutsteak.com)

Affirming sacred worth, restoring human dignity, and sabotaging the shame of poverty

As we departed the bus on a beautiful Wednesday morning and walked through a friendly group of street-dependent residents of Asheville, North Carolina, the sign outside the church was a dead giveaway that this would be a different experience from our normal tours of playful shingle style houses or exuberant art deco commercial architecture.

What would we find in a welcoming place of holy chaos and abundant grace?

Our National Trust Tour travelers had come to this place to see one of the newest additions to the Appalachian murals: the Haywood Street Fresco. The second clue that our expectations were about to be challenged was the mission statement for the fresco, displayed on a large wall painting just inside the front door of the Haywood Street Congregation.*

“Affirming sacred worth, restoring human dignity, and sabotaging the shame of poverty, the Haywood Street Fresco announces, in plaster and pigment, that you matter.”

As described in a beautiful brochure from Haywood Street, the buon fresco is an ancient art that involves painting ground pigments onto wet plaster. It is time consuming and labor intensive. It requires specialized skill from artists working with a trained team. One such artist — Christopher Holt — approached the Rev. Brian Combs, the founding pastor of the Haywood Street Congregation, in 2011 with the idea of creating just such a painting on the wall behind the altar to recognize the people and work of this mission. Those depicted in the fresco would be the street-dependent and working poor members of the congregation who we saw as we entered. And people like Charlie Burns. Charlie’s story is an integral part of the Haywood Street Congregation.

Charles Burns had a presence about him.  He was a man of many talents.  He and his constant companion, Emma the Wonder Dog, met Brian Combs in 2009 – a young preacher who wanted to make the church relevant to folks struggling with addiction and homelessness. Brian would later say that having Charles vouch for him gave him the street credibility that became the foundation of Haywood Street Congregation.

Charles was a talented woodworker who created numerous palm crosses and “peace poles” that are now scattered from post Hurricane Sandy homes in New Jersey to indigenous villages in Bolivia.  He was generous with anything he owned or anywhere he lived. He took in strays and offered them whatever he had. He loved a good fire and good friends. Charles was a natural leader who was respected by all. Living with throat cancer during his final years, he made every day count…always planning his next adventure, helping a friend and showing us all how to live.

Although he died shortly before the artists began painting the wall in 2018, his spirit, support, and generosity live on through the Charles Burns Memorial Fresco Fund which help ensures the longevity of the work.

A staff member met our group and — along with our guide Tom Frank — gave a brief overview of the fresco. We then spent the next 20 minutes or so studying the faces, seeing the affirmation of worth and life in each one.

Detail from the Haywood Street Fresco

Haywood Street Congregation was founded in 2009 by Rev. Brian Combs, a United Methodist pastor responding to a call to reach out to individuals living on the margins with a message of acceptance and belonging. The ministry has grown rapidly and today several hundred folks gather each Wednesday and Sunday for table fellowship and worship. Those who eat and worship together are individuals carrying all their worldly possessions in ragged backpacks as well as privileged professionals, stay-at-home moms, students, and the working poor.”

The Haywood Street Fresco

Art can definitely be a spiritual experience, and this was one such time in an extraordinary day of touring historic houses of worship in this western North Carolina community.

More to come…

DJB

*I have been working on several mission statements in recent months, and I’m here to say that this is one great example of the genre.

All photos by DJB

The sustainability of this experiment called America

People deserve to be treated as human beings. We seemed to have forgotten that point in America, as we fail to live up to our ideals as a country and as our myths fail us again and again.

Perhaps we need new stories…after we reject the old ones. We’ll have to work hard to get there.

As always, this Weekly Reader features links to recent books and articles that grabbed my interest or tickled my fancy. 


After seeing the images of border patrol agents on horseback whipping Haitian refugees seeking asylum in the United States, columnist Leonard Pitts, Jr. wrote in the Miami Herald that we were traumatized by those pictures.

That’s because they contain so much more than what’s in them, so much more than horse-mounted U.S. Border Patrol agents at the Rio Grande in Texas, running down and flogging would-be Haitian immigrants. No, those pictures contain George Floyd and forced removal from ancestral land, contain internment camps and the Pettus Bridge, contain every time the state, in its awful power, came down like a hammer on the head of the tired and poor yearning to breathe free.

It is a sad fact that we seem to have lost the thread where America is concerned. Indeed, outside the easy patriotism of Lee Greenwood’s song and the ignorant xenophobia of those who think what America really needs is to be made “great again,” there is real concern about the sustainability of this experiment. America, we once liked to say, is the only nation founded upon an ideal.

But an ideal, like any living thing, must be nourished in order to survive. Ours has become severely malnourished, having been fed on empty calories of jingoism and myth, a sepia fable of virtues many of us love to trumpet — liberty! justice! for all! — without really trying to live.


Writing in The Guardian, Nesrine Malik notes that Political gestures can be inspiring. But let’s not mistake them for victory. In reference to the first year anniversary of the Black Lives Matter protests and to the recent uproar over Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez going to the Met ball wearing a dress emblazoned with the slogan “Tax the Rich,” Malik writes,

Tax the Rich. I had a chilling flash-forward to a line of Tax the Rich merchandise trotted out by rich influencers. Or maybe rendered in jewellery, much like the VOTE necklace, as popularised by Michelle Obama (£310 RRP). On the way to the mainstream that Ocasio-Cortez wanted to reach through the Met ball, there is a giant cultural and commercial net: one that catches everything and turns as much of it as it can into a cheap (but still overpriced) product. Audre Lorde famously said: ‘The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.’ But the rest of the quote, less often cited, warns us that it will often look, at first, like winning. ‘They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change.’”

No, it takes much more than symbols and gestures, no matter how well intentioned. It takes hard work to bring about social justice.

“Any ground won here is illusory. The expansion of the online space overemphasises the impact and reach of virtual discourse, and so one could easily mistake the fact we are having these conversations at all for a sort of victory in itself. But if these arguments don’t translate to winning some power in the real world, they are all heat and no light.

For a democracy to work, for good and popular ideas such as racial equality or taxing the rich to become mainstream in meaningful ways, people can’t just be exposed to information that is presented to them as correct. They need to be converted, to see the way such policies or facts relate to their own lives. A campaign I think about often is the one that paved the way for Ireland’s historic gay marriage referendum in 2015. What may have seemed like a dramatic or even inevitable liberalisation of a socially conservative country was in fact the fruit of years of grassroots work. One of the most successful tools of the campaign was the ‘Ring your granny‘ effort, where young people lobbied their grandparents, mostly in rural areas, to vote yes. The motion passed with two-thirds of the vote.


Democracy is never permanent, and the work to keep it never ends. Which is why it is worth doing, if we want to create a new thread, a new story, about America.

More to come…

DJB

Image by Zelle Duda on Unsplash

The smells of place and time

It was only after meditating in the shower that I came to realize why adding almond soap to my morning touched a memory.

Yes, my daily routine has now made me a veritable garden in bloom. Almond blends with lavender and sandalwood, each scent a reminder of a particular place and specific people. The lavender takes me back to a scrumptious dinner on a visit to the historic inn and lavender gardens of New Mexico’s Los Poblanos. The sandalwood in my beard oil brings up memories of discoveries and conversations along a Main Street in New York. The almond takes me back to the coffee shop where I read Natalie Goldberg’s consideration of Pierre Bonnard’s final painting — Almond Tree in Blossom. She ends her memoir answering the great question of how to live with eternity at your door. In full bloom.

Memories of trips, people, places, and scents

My meditation also took me to a fascinating article on how The National Trust of Australia was working with the City of Melbourne to recognize the distinctive smell of the Vegemite factory when considering heritage designation. That article brought back a flood of personal olfactory memories, beyond my morning toiletries.

For many years my grandfather Roberts worked for the Sunbeam bakery in Nashville. Papaw was a carpenter, building shelves and doors with the company logo to be used at small town and rural stores throughout the mid-South. On occasion, Mamaw would take me to the factory.

Sunbeam is known for white bread that was ubiquitous in the 1960s. The taste may have been nondescript, but that smell…oh, it was heavenly to my six-year-old nose. Even today when I enter a bakery, my mind goes back to those years — and smells — of my youth.

My friend Felicity Watson, the head of advocacy for the Trust, spoke to Broadsheet about how the organization came to be engaged in work to recognize a critical part of a building in Melbourne that most people don’t consider when thinking of heritage.

“When we were reviewing the proposed heritage listing they put forward, we realised that something really important to that building was missing….The smell of the factory. It’s a really distinctive experience.”

The intense yeasty smell competes with those coming from Abbotsford’s CUB brewery for the title of Melbourne’s most iconic.

“It’s quite evocative and memorable,” Watson says. “It’s a significant indication of what that building is used for.

“The National Trust is not seeking for that smell and that process of manufacture to continue in perpetuity. We accept that there will be changes at the site and it might be redeveloped into the future. What we’re asking is for that smell to be recognised as part of the history.”

Not all my olfactory memories are pleasant. In the 1970s, I worked one summer in Kingsport, Tennessee, which has a downtown paper mill. When I mentioned what from my perspective was an offensive odor, the locals invariably responded with, “It smells like money to me.”

But the larger point still holds. We engage all of our senses when we remember places in our past. In her book Root Shock, Dr. Mindy Thompson Fullilove writes about why our senses are so important to memory and place, and how those memories can last a lifetime. Places, she notes…

…are not simply bricks and mortar that provide us shelter. Because we dance in a ballroom, have a parade in a street, make love in a bedroom, and prepare a feast in a kitchen, each of these places becomes imbued with sounds, smells, noises, and feelings of those moments and how we lived them. When we enter an old classroom, the smell of chalk on the boards can bring back a swarm of memories of classmates and lessons, boredom and dreams….The breeze on a certain hillside reminds us of a class trip, while the sun in the garden brings thoughts of Dad….The cues from place dive under conscious thought and awakens our sinews and bones, where days of our lives have been recorded.

Buildings and neighborhoods are insinuated into us by life. We are not independent.

“We are more like Siamese twins, conjoined to the locations of our daily life, such that our emotions flow through places, just as blood flows through two interdependent people. We can indeed separate from our places, but it is an operation that is best done with care. When a part is ripped away…root shock (the traumatic stress reaction to the destruction of all or part of one’s emotional ecosystem) occurs.”

Remembering the things we see, hear, touch, taste and smell from our past helps us make connections to place and keeps us connected with the continuum of humanity.

Enjoy the scents of your week.

More to come…

DJB

Image of lavender farm by No-longer-here from Pixabay. Sunbeam image from Flicker Creative Commons/Penjelly.

Chatham County Line: Not your father’s bluegrass

Chatham County Line is not your father’s bluegrass band. If you need some convincing, stick with me in this week’s edition of Saturday Soundtrack at least through CCL playing Mick and Keith’s The Last Time with the McIntosh County Shouters.

This is a band that has been playing music and entertaining audiences around the globe for two decades. Based in North Carolina, CCL is led by songwriter, guitarist and vocalist Dave Wilson, who draws inspiration for his work from a wide range of influences. John Teer rotates from mandolin to fiddle, Greg Readling plays standup bass and pedal steel, and Dan Hall on drums rounds out the group.

Chatham County Line 07 10 15
Chatham County Line at Red Wing III in 2015

While I’ve heard the band’s music over the years, I first caught them live at the Red Wing Roots Music Festival in 2015. I mentioned the tune Speed of the Whippoorwill from their 2006 album of the same name in my review. So we’ll begin with this 2011 version of the tune, dedicated — interestingly enough for a roots music band — to audio engineer and clandestine chemist Owsley Stanley, with a nod to John Hartford’s A Long Hot Summer Day thrown in as well.

Their 2010 album Wildwood — one of eight studio projects by the group — included Ghost of Woody Guthrie, performed here by CCL at a performance from the 2019 Oxford American: Landmark Sessions.

The band has pushed themes in their music and appearances — such as social justice and LGBTQ rights — not often heard in bluegrass music. From this 2016 show of Bluegrass Underground, CCL plays Birmingham Jail as a reminder of the lives lost and still lost because of “scared white men.”

“Four little girls tying their sash in the basement room that day / Poking fun and making jokes before getting on their knees to pray / Just so young with all their dreams and years to their end / Strewn away in the rubble by the hatred of scared white men”

I mentioned the various influences on Dave Wilson’s songwriting, and one can see the range on their excellent all-covers 2019 album entitled — appropriately enough — Sharing the Covers. Songs on the album extend from Wilco and Beck to John Lennon, Tom Petty, and John Hartford. I’ve always loved the preservation sensibilities of the Hartford tune They’re Gonna Tear Down the Grand Ole’ Opry from my all-time favorite album. We’ll follow the CCL version with their take on Tom Petty’s You Don’t Know How It Feels.

The band also has collaborations on both album and video that show the various dimensions of their musical interests. In 2019’s Winter Stories, CCL collaborated with the dreamy vocals of Judy Collins and Norwegian singer-songwriter Jonas Fjeld, as heard here on the haunting River.

And from the Sharing the Covers album, CCL is joined on this eTown video by Nick Forster, Anders Osborne, and the wonderful McIntosh County Shouters on The Stone’s The Last Time.

Chatham County Line is playing at The Hamilton in DC tomorrow evening, October 17th. We’ll end with a recent video of The Traveler from their 2014 project Tightrope to get your prepared.

Enjoy!

More to come…

DJB

Image: Chatham County Line | credit: ChathamCountyLine.com

For beauty, nourishment, and the celebration of life, Mohonk is one of our special places

Our entire family spent the Indigenous Peoples Day weekend at one of the great places on earth: Mohonk Mountain House. We gathered for the celebration of a significant birthday.

Blair, Claire, Candice, Mark, Andrew, and DJB enjoy the farm-to-table culinary delights at Mohonk Mountain House
Celebrating Candice’s birthday

We began coming to Mohonk more than a decade ago for work trips, family respites amidst the college tour, and major anniversaries. As a historic hotel set in the middle of a spectacular natural preserve, Mohonk reaches my soul as few other places do.

The family enjoyed a wonderful fall weekend hiking, boating, and just basking in nature’s beauty and bounty; being nourished by the food and wellness treatments; and celebrating all things Candice. Here are a few pictures of Mohonk from this visit for you to enjoy.

Mohonk Lake

A panorama from a secluded alcove at Mohonk Lake

Views along the trails

View of the hotel from the Skyline trail
Andrew on the rock scramble
Followed by Claire and Blair
Andrew, Mark, Claire and Blair safely through the rock scramble

In the gardens

Until we return

Panorama of Mohonk Lake from near the Spring House

More to come…

DJB

Photos by DJB, Claire Brown, Blair Kittle, Mark Bailey, or Andrew Brown

Reckonings that are a long time coming

Michael Eric Dyson — a “Princeton Ph.D. and a child of the streets who takes pains never to separate the two” — has written some of the most compelling and searing books around the issue of race in America today. His most recent, Long Time Coming: Reckoning with Race in America, continues the tradition we’ve come to expect from this academic, sociologist and Baptist preacher.

As always, this Weekly Reader features links to books and recent articles that grabbed my interest or tickled my fancy.

Written after the murder of George Floyd on May 25, 2020, Long Time Coming is a series of letters to other black martyrs murdered at the hands of white Americans: Elijah McClain, Emmett Till, Eric Garner, Breonna Taylor, Hadiya Pendleton, Sandra Bland, and the Rev. Clementa Pinckney. In each chapter, Dyson looks at the genealogy of anti-Blackness and its impact on America today.

He begins with the slave trade and moves into a compelling chapter on the Blue Plague, where he chronicles in detail the snuffing out of Floyd’s life by an indifferent Derek Chavin. Growing up on the streets of Detroit, Dyson has seen it all before. But somehow, “Floyd’s death was arguably the most affecting murder by a cop that we have witnessed in the home-made cinema of Black death.”

The pandemic “made it easier to absorb his tragically prostrate form into the national conscience.” And for a fleeting moment

“…there weren’t white or Black screens, just American screens. Blackness had chanced on the sort of universality that only whiteness has historically enjoyed. The video recording of Floyd’s death broke our hearts and merged them all at once.”

Dyson grapples with the theme of White Theft, where each gesture of Black advance “or Black ‘next’ is opposed by a white ‘again.'” Where critics “refuse to draw lines of cause and effect between the white theft of Black futures, freedoms, and financial stability over the century” and the vulnerable position of the Black permanently poor today.

The penultimate chapter on White Comfort is especially troubling, as it hits at those who understand the issues at hand, but work to avoid being made to feel uncomfortable. It is the arrangement of the social order for the convenience of whites. Fannie Lou Hamer said, “my job is not to make people feel comfortable” when she described how white superiority deprived those of us who are white of the knowledge of Black life. We need to stop distancing ourselves from our racist past while embracing racist beliefs in the present day in order to maintain our level of comfort.

Dyson ends, in his letter to the Rev. Clementa Pinckney, with hope joined by their shared heritage as ministers.

“How can folk say they love God and yet hate so many of God’s children — Black folk, poor folk, gay and lesbian folk, trans folk, and a whole lot more? Either you love God and you hate injustice, or you hate the folk God loves and therefore you don’t really know or love God. At least not the God I’ve come to know, not the Being I believe in, the uplifting energy and loving spirit that courses through this universe.”

And he ends with a personal commitment and a challenge to Americans.

“So, Rev. Pinckney, if you gave your life for it, the least I can do is spend my life in service of a love that never ends, a faith that sometimes crumbles, a hope that seems, somehow, forever to endure, in ways I can neither understand nor explain.”

“I will keep fighting and reckoning with our past and present to make a better future. I hope you will too.”


We can reckon with our past through understanding. On the 159th anniversary of the Battle of Antietam, historian Heather Cox Richardson tied the history that really happened there to events in her Letter from an American. In this short article:

  • She correctly notes that the war was fought between the U.S. Army and the Confederates. Southern apologists frame the war incorrectly by calling the two sides Union and Confederates. No. The southern states were in rebellion against the United States, and the army that preserved the union was the U.S. Army, an army that existed before the war and that exists to this day.
  • She notes that southern politicians were braggarts who assured their constituents that the war would be easy and painless. And so they convinced poor whites to go fight for the ability of the rich planter class to retain power and money through chattel slavery. The new medium of photography helped document that lie.
  • She uses the South’s own words to describe how the war was all about slavery. They said so in their constitution. Don’t ever let someone tell you that the Civil War was about states rights. If you need to help prove it to them, send them Ta-Nehisi Coates Atlantic article Five Books to Make You Less Stupid About the Civil War.
  • Finally, she ties all this back to the push by white supremacists today to destroy the United States as we know it.

Michele L. Norris also has reckoning in mind in writing What America’s racial reckoning can learn from Germany’s atonement with the Holocaust in The Washington Post.

The United States is not the only country with an evil antecedent that was swept aside, forgotten or minimally examined. That list is long, but one country offers a powerful alternative path. Barely three generations ago, Germany hosted horrors that killed millions and left the nation split in two. This was not a legacy that most Germans were inclined to honor. And yet, today, less than 100 years after the rise of Adolf Hitler, Germany has made a prodigious effort to come to terms with its past with regularized rituals of repentance and understanding.

Germany faced its horrible past. Why can’t we do the same when it comes to slavery and racism?

More to come…

DJB

Image by Kalea Morgan on Unsplash

America could learn a lot from its first peoples. Let’s start with the truth

Quick quiz. Name five Native Americans.

If you got stuck at Pocahontas and Squanto, you are in good company with the majority of people who live in the United States. Unfortunately, what you know about Pocahontas and Squanto (not even their real names) is undoubtedly untrue. Especially if you are relying on Disney for your history.

Those with an interest in the west may know the story of Sacagawea, the Lemhi Shoshone woman who traveled thousands of miles with the Lewis and Clark Corps of Discovery. Some may remember Sitting Bull (again, not his real name). Bonus points if you recall Sequoyah and the development of the Cherokee alphabet. After that, most people draw blanks.

However, we all know the poem, or at least the first stanza: “In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue.”

Guess what? The underlying story told in that poem is also false.

As Megan Hill, a member of the Oneida Nation of Wisconsin and the director of the Harvard Project on American Indian Economic Development puts it, Columbus didn’t really “discover” anything, in one sense of the word.

Not only was he lost, thinking he had landed in India, but there is significant evidence of trans-oceanic contact prior to 1492. The day celebrates a fictionalized and sanitized version of colonialism, whitewashing generations of brutality that many Europeans brought to these shores.

I’m not here to denigrate the legacy of Italian-Americans, which is multi-layered and complex, as are most American stories. However, there is ample evidence that the establishment of Columbus Day in the late nineteenth century was part of a concerted effort to help Italian immigrants become “white” in a country where one’s standing in the racial hierarchy could mean the difference between life and death. President Benjamin Harrison “proclaimed it as a one-time national celebration in 1892 — in the wake of a bloody New Orleans lynching that took the lives of 11 Italian immigrants,” writes Pulitzer-prize winning author Brent Staples in the New York Times. “The proclamation was part of a broader attempt to quiet outrage among Italian-Americans, and a diplomatic blowup over the murders that brought Italy and the United States to the brink of war.”

And there is a reason that so many people, and a number of states, have either de-emphasized or stopped celebrating Columbus Day altogether on the second Monday in October and instead honor and celebrate Indigenous Peoples Day in its place. For Native people and a growing number of non-natives in the U.S., Columbus Day represents a celebration of genocide and dispossession. 

Charles C. Mann put forth the thesis in his groundbreaking work of science, history, and archaeology 1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus that much of what we understand about indigenous peoples is wrong. Those who were here before the Europeans arrived were large in number (some 90 million – 112 million in the Americas) and they actively shaped their land as seen in places like Yosemite. “The astonishing Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan had running water and immaculately clean streets, and was larger than any contemporary European city.” Corn was created in a specialized breeding process that has been called man’s first feat of genetic engineering, and the trapping of fish involved not a few scattered Indians, but hundreds and perhaps thousands of people in some communities.

And it was not the Europeans vaunted military might that crushed the indigenous peoples. According to some estimates, as much as 95 percent may have died almost immediately on contact with various European diseases, particularly smallpox. That would have amounted to about one-fifth of the world’s total population at the time, a level of destruction unequaled before or since. Letting a virus run rampant to do its destruction is a time-honored tactic than extends from first contact to communities of color in present-day Texas and Florida.

Trail at Mohonk

Today, on Indigenous Peoples Day, we are nearing the end of a family vacation at Mohonk Mountain House, a place with a long history of respect, increased learning, and growing recognition of those who were on the land before first contact. The name Moggonck appeared in early boundary records and was possibly derived from the Lenape, the Munsee, or the Mohican languages. From 1883 to 1916, annual conferences took place at Mohonk, sponsored by founder Albert Smiley, to improve the living standards of Native Americans. They included government representatives, members of Congress, educators, philanthropists, and Indian leaders.

It is important to remember and acknowledge that no matter where we are today, we stand on land that once belonged to indigenous peoples. That land carries a complicated and layered history over thousands of years. The United States’ land seizures were a project of physical and spiritual destruction that denied those people free and unhindered access to land that fundamentally shapes their identity and spirituality.

Historian Patty Limerick writes in The Legacy of Conquest, her history of the west, that we need to think as anthropologists, because “humans live in a world in which mental reality does not have to submit to narrow tests of accuracy.” What we know about indigenous peoples grows with each passing day, and we do well to understand, recognize, acknowledge, and respect that history.

“America could learn a lot from its first peoples, Megan Hill notes. “But it must start with the truth.”

More to come…

DJB

Image: Mesa Verde

Adia Victoria is making the blues dangerous again

A Southern Gothic, the new album released on September 17th by South Carolina-born and Nashville-based blues singer-songwriter Adia Victoria, contains an “ode to Southern Black folk” and music to back up her claim that she wants “to make the blues dangerous again.”

Let’s examine that dangerous music this week on Saturday Soundtrack.

Growing up in a strict Seventh-Day Adventist family, she moved around the country testing her wings before settling in Nashville where she has generations of family. In 2014, following the shooting/murder of unarmed teenager Treyvon Martin, Victoria wrote

“Stuck in the South,” a song weighted with personal and regional history. “Don’t know nothin’ bout Southern belles/But I can tell you somethin’ about Southern hell,” she sang.

New York Time, February 27, 2019

That unvarnished look at her native South, through the eyes of a Black woman, comes through in Magnolia Blues from A Southern Gothic album.

The Bluegrass Situation included this quote from Victoria about the song:

“Often the only view of the South beyond my window was the magnolia tree in my backyard. It blocked the rest of the world from my sight. I limited my gaze to its limbs, its leaves and the obscene bloom of its iconic white flower.

“The magnolia has stood as an integral symbol of Southern myth making, romanticism, the Lost Cause of the Confederates and the white washing of Southern memory. ‘Magnolia Blues’ is a reclaiming of the magnolia — an unburdening if its limbs of the lies it has stood for. This song centers the narrative of a Black Southern woman’s furious quest to find her way back home to the South under the shade of her magnolia.

“‘Magnolia Blues’ is an ode to Southern Black folk — too often hemmed out of what we mean when we say ‘Southerner’ — and it is also an ode to the South itself. To rescue it from — in the words of William Faulkner — ‘a make believe region of swords and magnolias and mockingbirds which perhaps never existed.’”

Her unapologetic perspective on the South has shown through Victoria’s music since her debut album Beyond the Bloodhounds, which references the book Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl by Harriet Jacobs, and includes songs like Howlin’ Shame.

We need to talk about Addie Mae
I seen her walking out the other day
And I been watching that girl wilt away
Bruised back blisterin’
There ain’t no end to her sufferin’
And any good she had has gone to gray

It’s a howlin’ shame
A howlin’ shame

Her 2016 Tiny Desk concert is from that same period, including a live version of Stuck in the South.

Different Kind of Love is from Victoria’s second, critically acclaimed album Silences. The sonic texture differs from her debut, but the poetic nature of her take on Southern life remains.

South Gotta Change is a powerful 2020 single produced by T. Bone Burnett (who also produced A Southern Gothic) that Victoria described in a release as “a prayer, an affirmation, and a battle cry all at once. It is a promise to engage in the kind of ‘good trouble’ John Lewis understood necessary to form a more perfect union.”

You’ve been running from the ghost

You keep it hidden in your past

The veil before your face is falling, and it’s falling fast

I won’t go blindly in the night

I would drag you to the light

I stood up to the mountain

Told the mountain, “Say my name”

And if you’re tired of walking

Let the children lead the way

‘Cause I love you, I won’t leave you

Won’t let you slip away

Come what may

We’re gonna find a way

The South gotta change

The South gotta change

The electric You Was Born to Die from A Southern Gothic features great vocals by Victoria, Kyshona, and Margo Price as well as a stinging slide guitar solo by Jason Isbell.

Mean-Hearted Woman from A Southern Gothic tells you that Victoria means business when she says she wants to make the blues dangerous again!

Finally, Adia Victoria is also a strong interpreter of songs by other artists, including this version of Fiona Apple’s A Mistake.

For readers in the Nashville area, Victoria is appearing on October 24 at the Ryman Auditorium.

Adia Victoria has much to say, and is worth your time.

More to come…

DJB

Image: Adia Victoria | Red Light Management