I remember when I first went to the Dallas Arboretum a couple decades ago – one place that I enjoyed and remember was a double row of Crepe Myrtle trees with a walkway running between. Now, after all this time, the trees have grown together overhead, forming a long, dark, mysterious tunnel.
During my writing group’s trip to the Dallas Arboretum to see the Dale Chihuly exhibit I set up my tripod in the Crepe Myrtle Allee with my camera facing the Dallas Star sculpture down at the end. Here are a couple of HDR three-exposure shots I came up with.
There was a lot going on over the weekend. One of the events I had circled on my calendar was a Food Truck Festival in the parking lot at Valley View Mall. It looked like fun. One of the selling points was that they were bringing some trucks in from Austin, a famous Mecca of Gourmet Foodtruckery.
After work on Friday, the weather was threatening, light rain and boiling clouds, but Candy and I drove over anyway. We paid the five bucks to get in and I put the wristband on. Now, I knew I’d be careful because I wanted to come back on Saturday and didn’t want to pay another entrance fee.
What is it worth to sleep with a Tyvek writstband on? Should I have simply torn the thing off and just handed over another fiver? I’m too cheap so I wore the thing.
I haven’t worn a watch for years – ever since I read a news item that said young people didn’t wear watches because they rely on their smart phones. I want to be cool. With a wristband on, I kept unconsciously glancing down at my arm for the time – the old muscle memories of wearing a watch are still there.
Friday evening at the Food Truck festival had a healthy crowd but not too many. The trucks had small lines – a short wait to order and a couple minutes for your food. Candy and I could sample a few of the many trucks that were there.
We had sliders from Easy Slider, which were good, and a pulled pork grilled cheese from Jack’s Chowhound, which I liked better than the Steak Frites I had from them before. We tried two kinds of pizza, a thin crust from TX Delizioso and a thicker one from Doughboy’s Pizza. Candy found some ice cream from Short N’ Sweet and then we headed home – full, but none the worse for wear.
On Saturday, Candy was off to New Orleans and I drove down to the Dallas Arboretum to meet with some friends and take some pictures. When that was done, I was hungry, so I headed back north to the Festival.
The crowd was huge. The place was packed and every truck was sporting a long snaking line of food fanatics waiting for their grub.
I knew from experience that lines like that mean the trucks were going to start running out of food soon so I jumped in line for the Crazy Fish truck to get some Sushi. I was lucky, right after I placed my order they had to close down… out of rice. I had their last order (though they were able to open up a few hours later).
While I was eating (I know sushi from a truck sounds odd – but I will eat anything… and the food was good, I’ll write a review in a day or so) the Three Lions truck pulled in and stopped. A line began to form immediately; before they could open a hundred people were queued up. I looked around for something else I had never tried and found a Colombian food truck from San Antonio and had some Platanos Fritos and Chicken with Rice (review to come).
Some friends were supposed to meet me and I called them to warn of the crowds and the trucks running out of food. They said they’d come anyway, but were about an hour out. I was tired and full of food, so I took a little nap in my car, and felt a lot better when my friends arrived.
The choices were getting limited – truck after truck was shuttering down, out of food. We did manage to score some really good Korean Bar-B-Que Tacos from the Chi’Lantro Truck. The Austin trucks did rock the festival, but Dallas isn’t very far behind.
One other truck that we checked out was a new one – the Coolhaus truck, a recent transplant from LA. They had excellent ice cream sandwiches – but I liked their design – pink roof and brushed steel, plus the fact they are named after the architect that designed the Wyly Theater.
With this many people willing to pay five dollars apiece simply for the opportunity to wait in line up to an hour to get food out of a truck…. I can’t help but think this gourmet food truck thing still has some legs in Dallas.
In addition to the interaction between the plants and the glass of Dale Chihuly’s installation at the Dallas Arboretum, there is the interaction between the glass and the other sculptures, mostly cast bronze, that already populate the gardens.
I haven’t been to the Dallas Arboretum in decades. I used to go the the DeGolyer Estate for concerts back in the day, but once it became the Arboretum I’ve only been once. It was close to when it opened and I was disappointed because the plants hadn’t grown out yet. I took Nick there as a toddler because they were giving away free trees. I picked up a little live oak in a coffee can and planted it in back of our house in Mesquite. Everyone gave me a hard time because it was only an inch high (it looked bigger when it was still in its can). Over the decades, though, the thing grew – it’s now a huge beautiful tree.
The problem always was that the Arboretum admission is so expensive. I always felt it was more a private playground for the wealthy members of the Dallas Garden Club than an asset for the city. That was a silly opinion, I know, and I wanted to go visit, but never was able to get around to it.
I have always been a fan of Dale Chihuly, but I hadn’t seen very much of his work, other than some glass flowers at the Dallas Museum of Art. When I read about his exhibition at the Dallas Arboretum I was excited.
Our writing group has branched out into photography. We decided to go down there as a group and take pictures together. Everyone liked that, and one member had a set of tickets in a goody bag from a recent purchase. We picked a day and met down there at the opening, cameras in hand. I had a pack with extra lenses and a tripod and was self-conscious about lugging all that stuff. I shouldn’t have worried, most of the people going in were carrying tons of gear – either photographic or picnic stuff.
For a day I set aside my goal of taking pictures of people and gave myself permission to do “postcard shots.”
There were thick crowds of photographers wandering around. As is typical of Dallas, everyone seemed to be a gearhead. Near the entrance I stood next to a couple – he had a big, manly, camera with a long lens. We were looking at a giant yellow glass tree raised up into the sky.
“It would be cool to come out at night with a tripod and shoot that with a long exposure,” I said, just to make conversation.
“Well, I’ll tell you,” the guy with the big camera said, with a superior air, “I can hand shoot under any circumstances, I just shoot at 3200 ISO.” He waved his expensive hunk of optical glass and circuitry in my face.
“Oh, you are such a show off,” his wife said, the pride evident in her voice. The two of them walked off into a bit of woods. I had to chuckle – gearheads are so funny. I’m happy you can buy all that stuff… but you’ve still got the same old eyes and brain – and that’s what you really take pictures with.
But that little exchange really brought the challenge I faced into focus… so to speak. With hundreds of photographers in the Arboretum snapping hundreds of photographs each all the time from now until the exhibit closes in November…. How can anyone take a picture that is in any way unique? I don’t want to have the same picture as everybody else.
Four of us from our writing group spent about four hours walking around taking pictures. That’s a surprising amount of work, and a lot of walking. It will be interesting to see how we see the same thing in different ways. Peggy already has some of her fantastic photos up – go take a look – plus some more here.
Now I have about a hundred images and a lot of work getting these edited and in a form where they are usable. I’m not sure what I’ll do with all of them – I’ll use my Flickr account to store some. I should be able to get at least a half-dozen blog entries out of it… which is always a good thing.
Oh, the Chihuly Exhibition at the Arboretum is absolutely stunning, by the way. There are many varied groups of glass pieces in all kids of settings. He has done an amazing job of blending the glass with the living plants. His works range from small works interspersed in beds of plants to giant trees, maybe thirty feet high, made completely of glass. Walking through the gardens is an unforgettable experience – as you enter each new area you can’t help but gasp at the unexpected beauty that is waiting there.
I enjoyed taking all these photographs, especially since I wasn’t alone. I’d like to go back without a camera and simply look at the place. I’d like to go down with a sketch pad and some colored pencils. I would love to go back and try to take pictures of real people there among the sculptures, greenery, and beautiful settings.
Still, photographs do not to the thing justice. If you live in the Metroplex, you need to make plans to go down to the Arboretum and see this exhibit. If you don’t live here… I think it’s worth a trip by itself.
We’re really broke right now, but I want to find some way to scrape up the money to buy a membership to the Arboretum. I would love to be able to go down there and simply find a place to sit, look around, and maybe sketch a little bit. Beautiful things are so rare and fleeting in this world and to be able to go to a place like that and… well, simply wallow in the beauty is a wonderful thing.
(click to enlarge)
For a larger and more detailed version – Go to Flickr
Detail of a gigantic yellow glass tree.
For a larger and more detailed version – Go to Flickr
(Click to Enlarge)
For a larger and more detailed version – Go to Flickr
(Click to Enlarge) These boats full of Chihuly glass aren’t really floating on White Rock Lake like it looks. They are on the Arboretum infinity pool – beautiful.
For a larger and more detailed version – Go to Flickr
Dallas has never been seen as a city that is amenable to mass transit. Unlike an east coast megalopolis it was created in the age of the automobile – vast suburban tracts vomited out across the endless cotton fields along the pulsing arteries of constantly rebuilt freeways. But, for fifteen years now, we have had the DART rail. Always controversial, overly expensive, oft-reviled – the colored lines – Red, Blue, Green, Orange – crawled out inexorably across the map like vines on a brick wall.
Two tattooed guys – one skinny, one not – the skinny guy stands holding his skateboard, the other one sits hunched over a single speed bicycle – like a low slung bike for a kid a third his size. I am used to bicycles used as transport – this would be useless for that. It’s a bike used as a lifestyle statement. He rocks and stares at the chain like he’s afraid it will leap off the cogs if he lets it. Tired middle aged men slumped in seats, a guy playing a game on a smartphone, and a young couple standing in the door holding hands.
These are the people I live a lot of my life with. They are the same people you live a lot of your life with. Perfect strangers. Strangers on a train. I want to know these people and I want their stories.
The two guys, the skateboard and the inefficient but cool bicycle – they may be gutterpunks but they look like they are having fun. The guy on the bike moves back and forth at each stop to let folks get to the door or their seats. When their stop comes (one before mine) he shouts, “Off to another adventure” and shoots out the open door.
Looking at the young couple makes me ache. They may be poor and doomed… but together, today, right now, they are a thing of beauty. Beauty is so rare and so fleeting.
The others… all forgettable. But I know that the forgotten folks all have stories that will raise the hairs on the back of your necks. But we all sit and sway, look around, adjust our headphones, and get off at our stops.
Candy and I have developed a habit of going to Estate Sales in the Metroplex. We have signed up for a couple of email lists and on Wednesday or so get a list of all the sponsored sales that are going on. I go through the lists and pick out any sales that look interesting – then work out a driving route. I have to fight my hoarder tendencies and rarely buy anything, but simply driving around and looking is an entertainment and education in itself.
After a while, most of these sales look the same, but we are getting pretty good at picking out the interesting and unique ones from the descriptions and photographs that are sent out. Last weekend was very busy so I didn’t think I’d go to any sales, but I had a few minutes in the middle of the week and cranked through the photographs on the website.
On one house, in the background, down one hallway, there were some pictures on the wall. One of them looked like a mola.
On the north side of the Isthmus of Panama are a string of islands, The San Blas Archipelago (now called the Comarca Kuna Yala). That is where the majority of the Kuna people live. They are an indigenous tribe that after a long struggle are given some autonomy by the government and still try to cling to their traditional ways. The Kuna are most well known for the colorful cloth artworks they produce as part of their clothing.
These are called molas, and are gorgeous primitive geometric based designs, painstakingly constructed from layers of cloth in reverse applique – where the designs are cut out of the overlaying layers of cloth and sewed back, revealing the colors underneath.
I love these things. We have a few of them that I have inherited back from the time I was a kid and we lived in Panama.
I saw the mola on the wall in the photograph, but it looked silly and poorly made, and I was very busy. Candy called me at work, “Did you see what was on the wall on that one picture.”
“Yeah, it was a mola, wasn’t it.”
“That is the estate sale in Richardson.”
“Really? I was tired and in a hurry… I didn’t make the connection.”
I pulled up the website and Googlemaps and realized that the estate sale with the mola was right on the way home from work. It was a simple deal to stop by and take a look. I walked in and pushed my way into the hall.
I thought the mola was beautiful. The web photo was at an angle and the colors were wrong – making it look bad. In person it was really nice. It was well framed (we have had some framed – it’s not cheap to have that kind of work done) – I really wanted it.
The only problem is that it was priced at thirty five dollars. That’s a fair price… but it’s more than I wanted to pay (or had). So I walked out.
Candy and I talked… most of these Estate Sales drop the price on the last day, so she decided to go out on Saturday when the sale opened and see if the mola was still there. Saturday morning, I went my way and she went to the sale. I called her on my cell and she said it was there and everything was half off. So we bought the mola for seventeen dollars and fifty cents.
Also, she was looking in a bedroom and found another tiny mola… only two inches square, for a couple dollars.
I try not to get too tied up in material possessions, but I really like the mola and am glad to have it hanging on our wall.
Back? Good. Candy and I went to the Cottonwood Arts Festival to walk around in the heat, look at the art, and see the band. It’s a bit different seeing them outside in a park rather than in an Art Museum… there was something odd then in doing the Chicken Dance in the middle of about a billion dollars worth of paintings (the Cottonwood has some interesting stuff… but not on that scale).
I was a bit surprised not to see the usual crowd of Brave Combo groupies that follow them around – this is spring festival season and maybe they are all getting a bit worn out. At any rate, there were still plenty of grinning dancers.
A good time was had by all.
Brave Combo has changed a lot of its members over the years… but like a flowing river – they are always different but always the same.
Dancing to the Chicken Dance.
Brave Combo plays a terrific funk version of the Hokey Pokey. Like every else though, I worry…. What if that’s really what it’s all about?
They did a great version of the Clarinet Polka. Unfortunately, I can’t hear this song without thinking about a Certain Unicorn.
One of the many delicious varieties of street food found in these here parts is Elotes… Mexican corn on the cob. You can find it roasted and on a stick, or you can find it cut off the cob and stuck in a cup.
A while back I went down to the Dallas Farmer’s Market to shoot some photographs: here here here here here
and here
While I was waiting I tried a cup of corn from the Elotes vendor outside of the vegetable shed. He takes an ear of corn out of a warmer and cuts the kernels off fresh in front of you. Those go in a cup and are topped with everything unhealthy and delicious you can think of – margarine, mayonnaise, parmesan cheese, sour cream, hot sauce, lime (well that’s not unhealthy)… it is pretty darn good.
I tried it again the other day and took some photographs.
The elote stand at the Farmer’s Market
The corn is cut fresh in front of you.
It goes in a foam cup.
Your favorite goodies go in.
Corn in a cup
Now I want to go around and try some other Elotes Stands in Dallas, see what’s the best.
A couple of weeks ago I saw on facebook that Dos Equis was sponsoring a food promotion called Feast of the Brave. Through Cinco de Mayo, Dos Equis was teaming in Dallas with the Rock And Roll Tacos food truck in a competition to determine the American city with the bravest palate. Dallas would be competing with Miami, Houston, Austin, and Los Angeles for which city can earn the most “Bravery Points” by eating various unusual tacos. The delicacies promised were everything from wild hare, to shark, to wild hog, to goat, to frog legs, to snails (with corn fungus), to hog ear, to intestines, to alligator, to cricket….
An finally, each city would boast a “mystery taco” – worth 100 points each.
Do you think this might be something that would appeal to me?
Oh, Hell Yeah!
Unfortunately I was very, very busy and wasn’t able to hook up with the food truck until the very end. On Friday I took some flex time and left work early, hopping on the DART train and rushing to Main Street Park where the truck was set up. I ran up only to discover they were closing down… out of meat. The comely Dos Equis Taco Girls were very apologetic and showed me where they would be on Saturday, Cinco de Mayo – their last day.
We had another busy day planned, but I was not going to miss out so we drove down to the Albertson’s on McKinney and Lemmon at eleven, right when they opened. I did not realize that the tacos were free and you could get as many as you wanted.
There was no way I was going to mess around with Rabbit (only 10 points) or Wild Hog (Hey, that’s pork… what’s so brave about that? And only 20 points) – so I ordered two Shark (30 points each) and two Mystery Tacos (the Mystery Tacos were 100 points each). That totaled two hundred sixty bravery points – I feel I did my civic duty.
The Shark tacos were very good. The fish was rare and was served in a crispy shell with some tropical salsa. The mystery tacos were OK – nothing special – soft flour shells with lettuce and tomato.
My guess is that the mystery tacos were iguana. They wouldn’t tell us what they were – they said the identity would go out over twitter at ten that evening.
The Dallas “Feast of the Brave” Menu
One of the Dos Equis Taco Hotesses
Two Shark Tacos on the left, and two Mystery (Iguana) tacos on the right.
Feast of the Brave Taco Truck
He once went on vacation to The Virgin Islands ..Now they are just called The Islands.
I was right about Dallas’ mystery taco – it was iguana. Chicago’s was grasshopper, Miami was oxtail, Austin was straight jalepeno, and Los Angeles was 1,000 year old egg. I’m afraid that Dallas didn’t do too well, finishing fourth behind Miami, Chicago and Austin (we wanted to beat Austin). Bringing up the rear was Houston (at least we beat them) and last, Los Angeles.
I don’t always eat tacos, but when I do, I prefer iguana.
I have been writing about the ultra-expensive condominium Museum Tower cooking the Nasher sculpture center the same way a bully with a magnifying glass burns the ants on the sidewalk: here here
and here
The New York Times now has an article on the issue,
There are a couple of interesting quotes. First, from the Los Angeles based architect that designed this monstrocity:
Scott Johnson, the Los Angeles architect who designed Museum Tower, said he was willing to consider remedies but that the Nasher also had to be open-minded. “My responsibility is to fully vet solutions vis-à-vis Museum Tower — that’s my building,” he said. “But I can’t say sitting here now that the Nasher may not need to do something on their end.”
So, you see his concern for the neighbor (The Museum) that actually made his project (The Museum Tower) possible. I would imagine it would have been a good idea to “fully vet” his design before the thing was built, don’t you?
And also, a fact I did not know, that helps to emphasize the whole political disgustedness of the whole thing:
Complicating matters is that the $200 million Museum Tower is owned by the Dallas Police & Fire Pension System, on whose board sit four members of the City Council.
Ok, that makes it even more clear how the developers knew they could get away with this without the city doing a thing to stop them. Remember, none of this went into action until Raymond Nasher died – then the powers that be moved in to devour the carcass of his philanthropic vision.
The final word is from the livid Renzo Piano… who just might know a little about this sort of thing.
“By doing this, they kill what they use to sell it,” Mr. Piano said.
I think that, right now, the tower should be requred to change its name (Maybe to “Death Star Condominium Tower”) and to remove all reference to the Nasher Museum from its sales pitch (where it, of course, figures very prominantly). Actually, they should be required to warn their potential residents of the skin cancer danger poised by the neighbor next door due to the reflected sunlight.
The Museum Tower Condominiums tower over Tony Cragg’s “Lost in Thought”
Bill Chance 