Falling From Monroeville – Sunset, Sunday, 10 June 2012

William Van Doren, FALLING FROM MONROEVILLE. Sunset from Monroeville, Allegheny County, Penn. Oil on watercolor block, 13 x 19.

From a Holiday Inn parking lot just east of Pittsburgh.

Sunset, Thursday, 14 January 2010

William Theodore Van Doren. Sunset from Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on watercolor block, 16 x 20.

A recent excursion to the very fun letterheady.com (collecting all kinds of notable stationery – my personal favorite so far is Hal Roach Studios) included the 1960s letterhead used by the Rolling Stones. I was telling friends how much I liked the 1969 letter from Mick Jagger to Andy Warhol I saw when I visited the Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh. That letter can be found at lettersofnote.com.

I’m afraid I’m going to get nostalgic here. The letterheads, along with the offhand intelligent charm of the typewritten Jagger note, reminded me of the “good old days” of New York publishing, when I’d encounter correspondence like this all the time.

Yes, cut this post open – you can count the rings, quite a few of them.

Update on Friday, January 15, 2010 at 06:32PM by BVD

One note about letterheady.com – I could do without the Adolf Hitler stationery. I don’t think there’s any reason to display it, except perhaps in a true museum context.

Sunset, Saturday, 17 October 2009

William Theodore Van Doren. Sunset from Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on watercolor block, 16 x 20.

.... visiting uniform gray, rain barrel gray, Union or Confederate Zouave red-and-gray, and I guess we also have today gray, yesterday gray, and day-before-yesterday gray. But tonight I commemorate some of the most colorful of all grays (hello, Pittsburgh ... and Washington) – the legendary Homestead Grays.

Sunset, Sunday, 30 August 2009

William Theodore Van Doren. Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on paper, 16 x 20.

I forgot to mention that my Aunt Millie in Pittsburgh, on the morning of her 90th birthday, made cheddar biscuits, from scratch, for us to give to our dog, Flint. We can now report that Flint, the most discerning gourmand hound (‘It’s not a treat until I say it’s a treat’), has awarded Millie’s biscuits his highest rating.

Millie also gave us some tomatoes she’s grown this summer in her backyard garden, and she wanted us to take home a few Chambersburg [Pennsylvania] peaches.

She said, “Oh, every year we just can’t wait for those Chambersburg peaches, let me tell you, and they’re finally here!”

To be 90 and looking forward to this year’s Chambersburg peaches – I think that’s good.

Sunset, Saturday, 29 August 2009 / Notes from Pittsburgh, Part 3

William Theodore Van Doren. Neville Island, Pittsburgh, Pa. Oil on paper, 16 x 20.

One of the best parts of our trip to Pittsburgh was going through the Andy Warhol Museum, where we spent about four solid hours. One of the best designed, most intelligently curated museums I’ve ever seen. Whether you love Warhol, or feel just lukewarm about him, or think you hate his stuff or just don’t get it – doesn’t matter, I think. Naturally this can’t be true for everyone, but I think almost anyone would come out of the museum enjoying and appreciating the man and his work.

It was a blast.

One thing I think I finally understood was how Warhol’s aesthetic could be at one and the same time absolutely rigorous and in a sense promiscuous. The peculiar unity of those elements made him a great image-monger and image-maker; for him mongering and creating became one thing. As much as he could create original personal imagery, and he could, he used that great natural talent to recognize and respond to the imagery of society, and so created not simply images but icons.

And there you have an aesthetically naive, backward writer sounding as if he’s just discovered something really new. But for me it was, so there you go.

Along similar lines, I’d love to rave about the beauty of Pittsburgh, and especially the bridges, but here again I think it’s been done many times before. Nevertheless, I’ll say it: I can hardly believe how beautiful the bridges are. And to have one named for Roberto Clemente (The Great One), next to another named for Andy Warhol, next to another named for Rachel Carson – all three of splendid design – is really almost too good.

Sunset, Friday, 28 August 2009 / Notes from Pittsburgh, Part 2

William Theodore Van Doren. Neville Island, Pittsburgh, Pa. Oil on paper, 16 x 20.

We’ve been staying at a place in the Ohio River west of the city, Neville Island – named for a general in the Revolutionary War.

Neville Island, five miles long, is a wonderful landscape – maybe too wonderful, as I’ve tried four times to do some proper sketches but nothing has quite worked. That’s largely because the island’s wonders are industrial – big old factory buildings, steel fabrication sheds, railroad sidings, chemical tanks – complicated structures that always seem to take me time to master – to assimilate to the point where I feel I know what to do with them.

The same will be true for any painting I manage to do of the area around downtown Pittsburgh – perhaps my favorite skyline (after my sentimental favorite, Baltimore) – somehow even more concentrated and intensely articulated than Manhattan, and more fantastic, as in almost not real, like a magic fortress. We went up the Duquesne Incline, across the Ohio from the city, and I sketched from a vantage point almost as high as the tallest buildings. But it will take several more attempts plus Laura’s photographs to even begin to get my arms around Pittsburgh.

Back to Neville Island – once the “market basket of Pittsburgh,” it was in the process of being industrialized by World War I, when the world’s largest munitions factory was planned here. Even though the war ended before the plant was completed, the project opened the way for other major industries. In World War II the place was jumping – the Navy built 300 ships here, LSTs (Landing Ship Tanks), very large craft that could deliver 20 tanks and 160 combat troops. Then the decades after the war eventually left Neville Island a bit of an environmental shipwreck in the Ohio – a cleanup site of picturesquely falling-down or overgrown infrastructure.

The hotel where we’re staying, built last year, is a key part of the island’s comeback. I hesitated to inform my spouse that we were staying on an island with a significant amount of acreage considered “brownfields.” The beautiful big sports center and gym at the western tip of the island was built on reclaimed land once known as Poison Park.

A brownfield site is real property, the expansion, redevelopment, or reuse of which may be complicated by the presence or potential presence of a hazardous substance, pollutant, or contaminant.

(Check out Western Pennsylvania Brownfields Center at Carnegie Mellon University.)

Now Neville Island holds a hodgepodge of industries on the two-thirds or so of the island immediately to our east, and a small, sleepy residential community just to our west, connected by an often empty four-lane street built some 70 years ago by the Navy. The island’s flat topography (despite high wooded ridges across the Ohio on either side) and the quiet neighborhood of bungalows and modest old houses contribute to an aura, on the west end, much like that of an old beach town about ten blocks in from the ocean. The industries to the east seem to include a few holdovers from the days of steel, chemicals and petro products, but also green businesses such as metals recyclers and other new concerns that probably need the major tax incentives offered here. I get the impression that at least some of these are startups that don’t mind if part of a factory’s roof may be missing or windows are blown out, as long as they can find some space that doesn’t leak.

As for me, I definitely don’t care if parts of the roof are missing and windows are gone. I wish Neville Island success in recovery, but won’t mind if it holds on to its broken-down past a little while longer.