And speaking of Meryl Streep

Don't miss Doubt.
I won't spoil it by even trying to review it. Suffice it to say, she's at the top of her game after all.

I would love it even if it were worthless

I like it when my taste is validated. A few years ago I bought this quite special, uniquely decorated plate for $15 at a silent auction fund raiser for Lyric Opera of Chicago. I was the only bidder.

It was donated by one of my good friends, a Jewish immigrant from World War II Germany. She said, “Oh, it was J’s, something from his family we’ve had around for years. I don’t know anything about it.” And apparently she didn't like it enough to want to keep it, either. J, her husband and also an immigrant, was a physician and researcher who had, a few years before, died of the very disease he spent his long, august career studying.

I’m pretty good at using the internet to answer the unknowns in my life, and with a little work, and because the marks on the back of the plate are decipherable, I discovered that the stork with the fish in its beak and crown overhead is the mark of Rozenbug, den Haag.* From that information, I soon landed at the site of the major Rozenburg dealer, Proportio Divina. Proportio Divina's response to my query and photos, from the knowledgeable Marc Knook, identified my object as follows:

"It was manufactured in 1907 by Rozenburg, Den Haag, a Dutch manufacturer of earthenware and porcelain. This plate is porcelain and my guess is that the bird is indeed a young crow. The decoration was done by Samuel Schellink."

In the end, under my assurances that it is in as perfect condition as it looks in the photos, he offered me $800 (plus shipping to The Netherlands).

I've become quite attached to it, and so regardless of price, or value, I declined his offer. But I do wonder what Proportio Divina would have asked for it on their luscious web site...

Someone is now listing a similar plate on eBay (the listing won’t stay up forever, and Rozenburg plates show up on eBay very rarely, so look quick!) The starting bid is $1,450. The subject is also a crow, though the artist appears not to be Samuel Schellink, either by style or monogram on the back. The eBay plate is 9 inches across and is earthenware, mine is exactly 6.5 inches in diameter and is certainly porcelain, as Mr. Knook notes. Heavenly joy, mine is mint. The eBay item has a good-sized, glaring in fact, nick on the rim.

I am very interested to see whether the eBay plate sells. I suspect not, not so much because of its tidy price, but because of its unfortunate ding.

(I might add that both plates are round and both look oval due to the angle at which the photos were taken, and what seems to be a flaw on the back of mine is a firing crack under glaze, not damage.)





*Thanks to the Chicago Craftsman blog for a succinct history of the Rozenburg, den Haag factory.

ADDENDUM, Sunday 08/09/09
Courtesy of Jerry Franks, Brooklyn New York, image of his earthenware Rozenburg plate listed on eBay

Dark material: critiquing the critiques

Though I can’t say I’m addicted to movie-watching (mostly I’d rather play on the internet), since we joined Netflix I’ve occasionally seen something really sticks and inspires a little deeper thinking beyond “oh, that was entertaining” or “sheesh, that stunk.”

This weekend we saw the movie Dark Matter, directed by Chen Shi-Zheng, an Americanized Changsha (PRC) ex-pat.

Several reviewers conclude the movie is about miscommunication. I think it is in fact a round condemnation of the Confucian tradition underpinning self-censored communication, and more importantly, paralysis of recourse, in the master-student relationship. Another of its large themes is American academe’s constitutional lack of support for trainees whose paths go wrong. While this is a tremendously timely issue (release of Dark Matter was in fact delayed until events at Virginia Tech slowly worked their way off the front pages) I don’t believe it was sufficiently unfolded in the movie to garner the attention of viewers not steeped in the culture of the American academy (as I have been all my life). Both themes are of towering importance as flaws in the Chinese system and the American system both bear responsibility for slowing the pace of scientific progress and disappointing, if not ruining, lives that otherwise are full of potential.

The story is set in a generic American physics department where the charming, eager mainland Chinese student, Liu Xing (performed by Liu Ye), excitedly enters graduate school. He attracts the attention of a senior professor of cosmology, Jacob Reiser (Aidan Quinn) who quickly welcomes Liu to his stable of research assistants whose sole purpose, unbeknownst to Liu, is to produce dissertations supporting Reiser’s theories of the universe. While this kind of thing can happen in American graduate programs, most students recognize a hopeless mentor and find another within their chosen institution, or elsewhere. For reasons that some reviewers have interpreted as obsession, Liu fails to do that and continues, as the years go by, to bang his head against the wall of Reiser’s mentorship. My reading of this is not as an early symptom of Liu’s eventual breakdown, but as his adherence to the Confucian culture (that did not just survive Communism, but fostered its dispersion and persistence).

Student Liu is indeed quite brilliant and pieces together clues along one of modern physics’ most intriguing frontiers, the eponymous dark matter, that seem to have substantial explanatory potential. The professor will have none of it, and is both intellectually and personally threatened by the possibility that his ideas could be dethroned. Reiser’s arrogance is further portrayed in a brief aside about his split with his own dissertation chair. Liu garners enough positive feedback from others that I, at least, am convinced he’s on to something of scientific importance and that his persistence is not self-aggrandizement but intellectual confidence. Liu’s choices are to change dissertation topic, change mentor, change institution, or go home. He takes none of these paths, I believe because of his unending hope of convincing Reiser of the value of his ideas and of earning Reiser’s praise.

In his letters to his parents in China, Liu repeatedly assures them of his successes, even stating that he will certainly win a Nobel prize. This has been interpreted by some reviewers as evidence of his growing delusions. I interpreted it as the normal behavior of a prodigal son “saving face” before his clueless, beloved, blue-collar parents thousands of miles away.

As his troubles persist, Liu does not reach out to his parents, his Chinese roommates, or to the sinophiliac Joanna Silver (Meryl Streep), a self-appointed, maternalistic liaison for the Chinese students. Again, classic face-saving.

There is at last an overdue scene revealing Joanna’s dawning realization that Liu is in deep trouble (though it reads to me more like a verging sexual moment diverted in the nick of time). Streep’s character is otherwise nearly superfluous except that her air-headed efforts at bridging the culture gap for the foreigners serve to limn, for me, the absence of an effective support structure at the nameless university. In loco parentis? Not conventionally, for graduate students, anyway.

After years (signaled by the fact that all Liu’s roommates have finished their degrees and left the by now dropout alone in their beat-up student rental), Liu’s hopelessness finally pushes him over the edge. He explodes in a shooting spree, killing Reiser and the colleagues who collude in the suppression of Liu’s results before doing away with himself. In the end, Joanna Silver’s voluntary substitution for what the (cold, heartless) academic institution should have provided is redeemed. It is she who telephones Liu’s mother to inform her of her son’s devastating finale.

There is a lot more to this complex movie, including its occasional touches on the serious matter of public ignorance of science. Production-wise, it’s got lots of snippets of sensationally selected music. The character of Liu Xing is extremely well played and well directed. His accent and phraseology, mannerisms, even postures, are bang-on. His Chinese room-mates are also perfectly cast and realized. The Jacob Reiser character, annoyingly, is too stereotyped; in my view that is a major directorial blunder because academia is already on defensive with the American public. And the unnuanced Joanna Silver role certainly did not need Meryl Streep behind it. Though Streep is the queen of awkward-woman roles, and can accurately reproduce any accent in the universe including that of an American trying hard to master Chinese, the part might have been better played by an unknown so as not to distract those of us who admire Streep with thoughts about how haggard and skinny she has become.

I might add that the story is in part based on a similar 1991 incident at the University of Iowa in which a Chinese graduate student killed five people. It does happen.

The photograph is of physics students at Huazhong Teachers College, Wuhan, People's Republic of China, trying to hear a lecture by my former husband on, what else, cosmology (of black holes). There was not enough space for all the students who wished to attend;the seats at the table were for more senior attendees. September, 1980.

No shoulder left to lean on

KLK did it again. He was at his grandma's (also again!), or, rather, outside Grandma's house, going for a run (intended, of course, to contribute to, not detract from, his health and well being) along the old, uneven, ill-maintained New Jersey sidewalks when he went *ss over teakettle and landed on the "other" shoulder - not the one that leads to the snapped end of his left bicep, nooo, the one surviving intact shoulder. The interesting yellow streak is not surgical iodine, it's the external evidence of the resultant internal injuries.
Nice little job on the elbow, too.

Ok, I don't know why, but this makes me laugh out loud every time

Another one that REQUIRES you to turn on your sound...

And now for something completely different

I spent the long Fourth of July weekend in Dallas (my first venture beyond DFW airport), enjoying the hospitality of my best girlfriend, LCB. Knowing that I need a regular Nature fix if I'm going to be happy, and overdue with my birthday present by about 6 weeks, she treated me to a day at the Dallas World Aquarium and Zoo. Here are some results of my photographic efforts, hampered in very large part by the low light and having the perfectly wrong lens with me. I hope nonetheless it will be apparent what a wonderful, diversely populated place it is. Click on the images for enlargements.

Guianan Toucanet

Toco toucan

Keel-billed toucan

Jackass penguins

Weedy Seadragon

Frog fish (dig the eyes of the guy on the left)

And there are human interest, and interested human, stories there, too.

Bernie Made-off makes off once again

What is ironically painful about this is that Bernie Madoff's retirement will be all-expenses paid - housing, food, clothing, medical care - while many if not most of those whom he robbed of a financially carefree, secure post-working life will suffer immeasurably.
The settlement allows his wife to retain $2.5 million for her dotage. I think I could manage a long, comfortable retirement on that, speaking for myself. Of course, she will be deprived of her husband's company. Since I still don't believe she could possibly have been unaware of what her husband was doing for a living, I'm not sending her condolences any time soon.

Nature Mother

I’ve been thinking for a while now - ever since I learned the conclusion of this story – about how to write about it. Now I’m just going to write. On my first full day in Yellowstone this year (May 28), happily watching a grizzly sow bear and her large cub in the distance in Hayden Valley, I ran into a friend who had been in the park for a while. He said, “There’s an injured moose cow and her new calf over by Trout Lake [at a far end of the park from where we were standing], be sure to look for them when you’re over that way.”

A week later my itinerary finally took me past Trout Lake. There, across from the parking pullout for the trail to the lake, lying in the shade, were a resting cow moose and her tiny, intermittently napping calf. It was clear that no one among the onlookers knew exactly how she had been injured, or when, or even if it was before or after she bore the calf. Those who had seen her wounds said it seemed likely she had been attacked by any one of several possible predators in the area: wolves, a grizzly, possibly even a mountain lion. But from my vantage that day, they looked fine. Mom moose was scruffy, but her kind are in late spring as their winter coats are slowly replaced with sleekness. It wasn’t apparent that she had anything wrong with her. I was delighted that it looked like all might be well, and after taking a few photos from too far away, I continued with my itinerary for the day. I saw them again the next day. Still alive, still looking normal, still attracting a small fleet of photographers and well-wishers.

Then, on my last day in the park (June 5), very early in the morning, I came across two stopped cars, occupants looking to the opposite side of the road from where the mother and baby had been for several days. They had moved uphill and were standing in the beautiful morning light above me about 50 yards. I was thrilled to see them standing for the first time, moving around normally. The cow kept an eye on me as I set up my tripod. The active little calf sniffed and looked and listened and raised its nose to its mother’s face, turned around and explored the brush behind it, then nuzzled again. Then the cow extended her head, revealing deep gashes in her neck and jowl. Through my binoculars they appeared to be granulating, that is, healing from the inside. This was great news, as it meant the chance of infection from an encapsulated wound, unable to drain, was much lower. It crossed my mind that there would not yet be maggots to clean the wound, though, as frost was still a nightly occurrence. I watched a while, until the mother led her infant into the trees. I left them, and Yellowstone, thinking there was every chance the mother would heal and the calf would grow and mature and go on to make calves of its own in a couple of years.

On June 9, the cow’s body was found in the Lamar River. The calf died, doubtless of starvation, a day or two later.

A million thoughts have crossed my mind, competing for space with sadness. When I witness, or learn of, the death of an infant creature in Yellowstone (not just a regular, but a frequent, occurrence) I think of the of all of the wasted biological energy that went into bringing the new being to daylight. I hope at least the carcasses were left where they lay so they could go on to nurture babies of other species: coyotes, eagles, ravens, magpies, bears…

Another side of me thinks, over and over, of that moose infant slowly dying after its mother suddenly morphed from a nurturing, feeding, animated protector to a crumpled lump of dead flesh, bone, and fur.

I couldn't have put it better myself

"Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life."
-Immanuel Kant

Charismatic Megafauna

Pronghorn antelope (two bucks, one doe, Little America, Yellowstone)

Five mule deer along the Chief Joseph Highway

A cow moose at Cattleman's Bridge, Grand Tetons

A bull moose, Cooke City, MT (just outside of Yellowstone)

A restful elk (a young bull, I believe), Mammoth Hot Springs, Yellowstone

A radiocollared and tagged coyote, Elk Creek, Yellowstone

A bison mother and calf, Lamar Valley, Yellowstone

Like the old days, a herd of bison cows and calves, Lamar Valley, Yellowstone

A bighorn sheep ram, Yellowstone River Picnic pullout, Yellowstone

A bighorn ewe and new lamb, near Calcite Springs Overlook, Yellowstone

All taken between May 27 and June 6, 2009

Bathing Beast

Step 1. Head for the pond

Step 2. Dive in

Step 3. Play!

Step 4. Practice water ballet

Step 5. Head for the far shore

Step 6. Make tracks

Step 7. Shake it offStep 8. Shake shake shake off some more

Voilà! A Clean Bear!

(All this took place June 5, 2009, in a seasonal pond across the road from the Yellowstone River Picnic grounds, Yellowstone National Park; this is a black bear, extremely common in that area.)

As if I didn't already have enough projects

This is completely brilliant. I could easily while away lots more time getting into it, since I like little stuff, photography, digital archives, precise descriptions,E.O Wilson, and everything else about it:

Very Small Objects dot com

Try it, you might like it! (And if you do, your to-do list is probably doomed.)

Trees and Shrubs of the Rocky Mountain Region

In our neighborhood, for as long as I can remember (which is a while, I’ve lived here more than 40 years), we have had two first-class used book stores. My favorite is Powell’s (of their three Chicago stores, ours is pictured on their Web site). Over the years I’ve sold them plenty of books. May whoever bought them enjoy them in good health!

One of KLK’s and my favorite routines is to have dinner at the Caffè Florian, across the street, and then to visit Powell’s before they close. He disappears into the rabbit hole of the basement where the science fiction paperbacks live. I head straight for the back corner where the nature volumes and “westernalia” can be found. They always have an oddly wide-ranging offering of bird guides: Birds of Western Africa, Costa Rican Waterfowl, Backyard Birds of Britain, A History of Falconry, Sibley’s Guide to Birds…an ever-changing selection of newer and older books of greater or lesser interest. I’ve also picked up some good resources on Yellowstone and western history there. But just like shopping at Filene’s Basement, it’s always hit-or-miss, making good finds all the sweeter.

Frustrated with the terrible (awful) photos in my Shaw’s Plants of Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks, last Friday I extended my search to flora to see if someone had given up for sale something more useful to me. I pulled off the shelf a little green volume, “Trees and Shrubs of the Rocky Mountain Region” by Burton O. Longyear. I could see from the spine that it was a hardback but as a little book (just 6¾ x 4 x 1 inch thick) I thought it might make a handy field guide nonetheless. But as soon as I pulled it off the shelf and opened it I could see that it was special. Indeed, though it is in very-nearly perfect condition, it is a 1927 original. How it survived all these years in pristine shape I can’t imagine.



In fact the “One Hundred and Twenty-eight Pen Drawings by the Author” are very nice, maybe even good enough for definitive identification out there in the woods. Also among Trees and Shrubs’ charms are the nine colored plates. There’s no comment in the book about how the colored images were created, that is, by tinting traditional grayscale photographs, or from color film originals (or other options I know little of). They look a little odd, with plenty of green leaves and brown trunks, and very pale, low contrast skies and clouds. Nonetheless, they’re pleasingly vibrant after 82 years (unlike some people I know).


And inside the back cover are the final sweet treats: hand-written is the original price, 1.00. Next to it, Powell’s price, 10.00. According to Westegg.com, one 1927 dollar is worth 12.30 2008 dollars, so it was a bargain then and now. And at the bottom of the page is a modest, pretty little green sticker (in original condition, I might add) that says, in tiny print:

Ruth Silliman ● Carol Truax
Their Book Shop
5 Pikes Peak Avenue
Colorado Springs, Colo.

Nice, too, to know there were women shop owners, and proud of it, back in 1927. Their shop, indeed.

For Troutbirder

Look familiar? Look inviting? Any wonder I love the Tetons?

Where I've been

Yes, this is really where I was not too many days ago. It is the iconic Mount Moran reflected in the Snake River, Grand Teton National Park. Back in those willows there are moose, doubtless, and that pristine mirror of a river (the exact location is Oxbow Bend) will be rippled every so often by beavers or river otters. And keep an eye overhead as well, so as not to miss the bald eagles, osprey, blue herons and sandhill cranes. If we're lucky, a coyote will trot by, sticking to its busy agenda. In the distance, cow elk are grazing, their young calves completely still, bedded down invisible, hard for a grizzly to find. And right in front of us are the sunny little yellow warblers, too close to focus my lens on.