Audio/Visual Landscape

Historic Theatres of the Erie Canalway Heritage Corridor

2011-09-19T11:39:00.000-07:00

Minnehaha Liquors, Minneapolis, MN.

2011-05-08T10:16:00.000-07:00

(Photo courtesy of Jewish Historical Society of the Upper Midwest)

In July 2010 I made my way back to Minneapolis, MN for the first time since May 2006 when I left the Twin Cities. I had lived there from 2001-2006 and had seriously been missing it those five years I was away. While I was taking a road trip to Northern Minnesota to see Dwight Yoakam (also for the first time!) I made a stop over in Mpls to break up the 10-hour drive and to see my favorite Midwestern city once again. Driving down Lake Street I saw many things that had changed, yet several that had (luckily) stayed the same. When I came across one of my favorite local landmarks, the Minnehaha Liquor sign at 2613 E Lake St, I noticed that it was receiving a touch up. I enthusiastically took this opportunity to obtain some more info on the sign.

According to the above historic photo, Minnehaha Liquors has been around since the 1920s. According to the man repairing the sign (why didn't I get his name?!), the original porcelain-fronted neon sign is currently maintained by Skyline Neon at 451 Taft St. NE in Minneapolis. He also discussed how all of the signs once lit by neon are now lit by LED---even the Payless Shoes sign across the street. He took great care and pride in his work to keep these signs alive and continuously illuminating Minneapolis' streetscape. I'm thankful I had this chance to return to the city and spend this time with him finding out more information on this icon that always managed to capture my attention the countless times I traveled back forth along Lake Street while living in the Twin Cities.

History & Identity As Told Through the Historic Taverns of Bay View, WI

2011-05-07T07:36:00.000-07:00

Spring 2010:

Last winter I moved to Milwaukee, WI. To get to know the area better I set out with a few cameras and my Zoom H2 to explore Wisconsin's very ummmm, unique, drinking culture. The result is this documentary that focuses on the experience and history of Lee’s Luxury Lounge at 2988 S Kinnickinnic Avenue, Milwaukee, WI. You’ll hear both residents and patrons express what they feel gives shape to and defines their distinctive Bay View identity.

Special thanks to Lee's owner, Deanne Wecker. Sadly, I found that Deanne sold the bar shortly after I completed this piece.

For more photos of Bay View's historic taverns visit www.erindorbin.com.

(Interior view of Lee's Luxury Lounge)

Route 20 Documentary!!

2009-06-24T20:42:00.000-07:00

America's Mainstreets: Can We Make Travel Part of the Destination Again? from Erin Dorbin on Vimeo.

This documentary is the result of a collaborative student project undertaken by undergraduate and graduate students Erin Dorbin (M.A. History and Media), Eric LaGrange (M.A. Fine Arts), Dale Mattison and Greg Pruden at the University at Albany in the Spring of 2009.

The group set out to explore the histories of routes 20 & 9 in New York state as case studies to explain how America's changing travel patterns in the second half of the 20th century altered the landscapes along the country's two-lane highways. We were also interested in exploring how these changes in travel adversely impacted the small localized economies along these routes that had once been dependent on tourism dollars to sustain themselves.

Erin Dorbin and Eric LaGrange are responsible for the completion of the Route 20 portion of the project, while Dale Mattison and Greg Pruden completed the Route 9/Frontier Town section of the documentary. Erin and Eric also have plans to continue the Route 20 portion of the documentary over the coming year.

This video is our first edit at 22 minutes for the purposes of our final class assignment. Three of us in the group had never worked with Final Cut Pro before and one of us had no idea how to use a video camera, but we figured it out (for the most part) and made it happen! Enjoy!

Howdy Folks! The Story of the Chuck Wagon Diner

2009-05-17T12:32:00.000-07:00

Photo copyright Gale Weatherby.

I recently completed a thirty-minute audio documentary on the restoration of the Chuck Wagon Diner in Princetown, NY. I was drawn to the project during our research for our video documentary on the history of travel and tourism along Route 20 in NY state. In the process, I found a newspaper article about a current restoration project headed by Tom Ketchum to reopen the diner on his property along Route 20. I grabbed my recently acquired Zoom H2 and set out to collect the stories of those whose lives became interwoven as a result of this project and to tell the story of this historic American icon. Please take a listen and see how this amazing story unfolded.

Special thanks to Gale Weatherby, Tom Ketchum, John Blatz, Bill and the Miss Albany Diner, JR Cooke and Steve Cadalso for their contributions. They were all just incredible to work with. I wish them the best of luck in seeing this project through to completion.

For more photos of the Chuck Wagon from the 1970s (prior to its initial closing and relocation) please see Gale's photos. You can also see the documentation of her meeting with Tom and Steve when they drove to Chicago to pick up the original Chuck Wagon sign here.

See you at the diner!

Sol LeWitt: A Wall Drawing Retrospective

2009-03-11T08:00:00.000-07:00

The Sol LeWitt show at Mass-MoCA was less of a museum exhibit, and more of a circus. I admit, my first priority was to see the Anselm Keifer pieces in the adjacent building where I was able to spend the first hour of my visit sitting and contemplating A.E.I.O.U. and turning around to breathe in the space surrounding Narrow Are the Vessels in peace and quiet. Walking through the next room and into the Sol LeWitt exhibit was like walking out of a church and onto a city street.

I was immediately swarmed by children, with one particular little girl running between the bright walls screaming, “Colors! Colors! Colors!” I glanced over the first predictably geometric wall and came around the corner to the next where two middle-aged women turned to me and flashed peace signs with cheesy grins and tie-dye shirts. One woman rambled something off to me about the meaning of life which I don’t quite remember as being anything more than gibberish, but it ended with, “I don’t know what it means, but it means something, right? Ah, you didn’t grow up in the seventies, you wouldn’t understand.” And I didn’t. But I smiled as she turned away, dancing a dance that I’ve seen before which I commonly refer to as “The Hippie Shuffle.” Her friend then shouted joyously, “I didn’t go to work today, I went to MoCA!” I didn’t like the paintings any better, but I suddenly felt like I was a part of something really exciting, and glad to be there.

In LeWitt’s defense, I don’t believe that he intended his work to be a mystical journey into the unknown, leading us to a higher plane of existence to discover the meaning of life. I think his ideas were more influenced by mathematical logic, and finding any way of making some sense of the big, flat, open spaces we call “walls.” They’re not much more than simple geometric experiments, finding all possible ways of combining vertical, horizontal, and diagonal lines, or blocks of color. These ideas, I’m sure, have been discussed and illustrated in mathematical literature dating well before LeWitt’s time. I suppose that taking those ideas and combining them with the tradition of mural painting is the original idea. It definitely has its place in the broader scope of art history as a response to abstract expressionism in the minimalist tradition.

Their value may also lie in the simple pleasure of communicating a set of instructions, and seeing how well those instructions are carried out by others. In my mind, LeWitt lies parallel to my ideas about the programmers of the first computers, creating codes for execution that can be used anywhere. But these codes are awfully simple. Early computers and Sol LeWitts seem dated in a world of high-definition video games and intricate paint-by-numbers. And that seems like a terribly sick pleasure. I imagine LeWitt getting the same satisfaction and sense of power that Jim Jones had as he watched his followers carry out his idea of revolutionary suicide. Better to paint it on the wall, I suppose. I would have been more interested in a show of the first personal computers. (I actually saw a shop along the road on the way to the museum that had many very old computers in the storefront window, aptly named, “Computers.” I should have stopped.)

As I worked my way through the second floor, I decided to follow discreetly behind some fellow viewers and eavesdrop on their reactions, which became the most enjoyable experience of the show. Two distinct reactions prevailed. In all cases, people seemed lost, either in joy or in fear. Expressions of childlike glee were contrasted with awkward attempts to find something intelligent to say for fear of losing their reputation as an intellectual.

I stopped to watch the film in the second floor reading room, which documented the process of creating the retrospective. Two more elderly women watched joyously at the craftsmen, draftsmen, painters and scribblers duteously carrying out LeWitt’s master plans. As the film concluded, the ladies seemed enthusiastic and inspired. “That looks like a fun art project!” And it did. I found that LeWitt’s art seems most easily accessible to elderly women, young children, or other subscribers to Arts and Crafts magazine. They seemed to be the only ones who were able to enjoy it for what it is, bright colors painted on a wall, which I say with the highest respect for them as the most honest, unpretentious viewers.

Continuing through the exhibit, I found myself turning my gaze more and more toward the brick walls of the old mill building instead of the freshly painted walls of LeWitt. At some point I stopped, after a quick glance at a wall covered in pencil lines, and turned my back to it, to stare at the peeling paint and stains on the bricks left from an old staircase no longer there. I began to see the LeWitt walls as mere contrast, the backdrop to the art that is Mass-MoCA Building #7. I was also thankful for the windows. By the time I reached the third floor, my eyes were exhausted, and coming around that last wall in the back corner to finish the show with the bang of Loopy Doopy (orange and green,) it was a relief to turn away from the retina-burning colors, and peer out the window to the gray sky and snow covered grounds of the old mill.

LeWitt’s work might have been the exception to the rule that one must see a work in person to fully appreciate it. Flat shapes and lines on a wall don’t provide much more to enjoy than a photograph of them, other than mere scale. We don’t even get to leave with the satisfaction that we’ve seen the hand of the artist. I admit, however, that it was a pleasure to be surrounded by them, feeling like a child in a funhouse. Perhaps this is the only way of truly appreciating LeWitt. It was also satisfying to experience the work as a chronological progression which, from the nineteen-sixties to the early twenty-first century, is so consistently steady, that it seems as though his entire artistic career was planned out from beginning to end. And perhaps it was. Maybe one day we’ll find a set of detailed instructions for a lifelong career as an artist that LeWitt brilliantly carried out over the course of his lifetime with exact precision.
As the museum was about to close and I began making my way for the exit, I crossed paths again with my new hippie friends, flowing gently between two colorful walls. One was still dancing, the other exclaiming freely, “This is groovy! This is Austin Powers!”
LeWitt’s work is something you’ll either love or hate, and those who love it, REALLY love it. As for myself, I left with the desperation of someone trying to find his way out of a hall of mirrors. My only regret is not having access to the rest of the Mass-MoCA complex. The buildings are easy to fall in love with, and in a show of wall paintings, the time-worn and stained bricks of Building #7 stole the show.

Tupperware Lake, and Other Upstate New York Adventures

2008-12-10T10:03:00.000-08:00

Erin and I recently took a trip 4 hours north to the small town of Canton, NY. We had an exciting visit with Varick Chittenden, the creator and operator of TAUNY, Traditional Arts of Upstate New York, discussing their operation, history, and possible volunteer opportunities. We passed through many small towns along the way, and the drive was beautiful.

At some point we came to a place called Tupper Lake. (Also known to us as Tupperware Lake, the supposed birthplace of the Tupperware party.) We were running late to our appointment with Varick, but we couldn't resist stopping to photograph this little independent theater called the State. Erin and I see a lot of theaters, and are always excited to see a little gem like this one, but this one caught our eye for the unusual statement on the marquee: "Open Everyday, Religulous." We pulled over hysterically, thinking that it was a misspelling, which we later learned was not true. In any case, we snapped a Polaroid and went on our way.

Our visit at TAUNY was very informative, and Varick welcomed us immediately as friends. He obviously was prepared for our visit because we didn't even have to ask any questions before he began his speech and tour of the facility. An exhibit was up about "Hippie Houses" and other primitive dwellings of the North Country. I wish we'd had more time to explore the exhibit and take in all the various things that TAUNY had to offer. Varick had much to talk about though, and Erin and I left educated and happy.

We got some recommendations from our new friend for some interesting food spots in the area, other than the McDonald's conveniently located across the street from TAUNY. Unfortunately we were disappointed to find that everything outside the golden arches had already closed for the evening.

So we started our journey home through the beautiful countryside again, though unable to see it now in the dark. The quiet drive was beginning to get on our nerves though, as well as the lack of food in our bellies. Nothing seemed to be open along this route for some reason, until we finally found the Adirondack Hotel.

We were excited to sit down in the warmth, and the rustic timber-frame structure was a comforting mountain oasis. The obligatory deer heads on the walls were a bit discomforting, but we stuck around to be seated ... and we sat ... and sat. The waitress seemed happy to help the other diners, refilling their drinks and offering desserts, but was apparently not so interested in our being there.

We finally did get to order some food and wine. It came after Erin had gone to the restroom, and the waitress kindly scolded her for letting her food sit and get cold. Our pissy moods were intensified and it made the food difficult to enjoy, especially after being severely misinformed about how they make their pizza, which was basically just sauce and cheese on a tortilla. Regardless, we filled our bellies out of sheer hunger.

After another long wait to get our check, we finally made our way to the register to pay our bill. Erin had picked up some Adirondack Life magazines which also needed to be purchased. The waitress figured our bill to be around $10 more than we were expecting, so we asked her to ring up the magazines again to make sure she got it right, when we realized that she was adding the Canadian prices instead of the U.S.A. ones. She was obviously frustrated at our attempts to pay the proper amount, and resisted a third time to add the proper amounts after we had told her of her mistake. Finally she added the U.S. prices and this time the register rang up about $50 more than we were expecting. It was apparent that she hadn't voided the previous amount and doubled our bill. Erin and I were stunned as she announced our owed amount as if there was no problem at all. We just looked at her with jaws opened wide wondering if she was really that ignorant, or if she was just really eager to piss us off at that point. "Um, yeah, that can't be right." was all I could mutter. The lady then had the audacity to look straight back at me and sternly state, "The machine don't lie!" Wow. The machine might not lie, but she didn't know how to add. One more attempt, and our bill was finally as close to correct as it was going to get, and we paid without leaving her anything for her trouble. I think she should have left us a tip.

We eventually made it home in one piece, but the our trip to Canton will live on as yet another strange New York experience.

painting of state theater by eric lagrange

Albany Diners

2008-11-04T16:48:00.000-08:00

ALBANY, NY -- I've been in the northeast now for two months and everywhere I turn I find a new diner that I need to visit. I'm not used to it. I'm used to the landscape of the Midwest where the nearest diner may be nearly an hour away or more. The problem with me and diners though is that sometimes I don't get up and out of bed until after they have closed for the day. However, I did manage to make it out to two in the area already---the Miss Albany Diner (featured right) and Jake's Diner (featured below), both in Albany. Both experiences have been memorable in their own right.

I found the Miss Albany en route to a class site visit to the Albany County Hall of Records. The whole time I was there all I could think about was heading to the diner at noon when the tour was supposed to wrap up for lunch. I asked my fellow public historians if they wanted to head over with me, but no one was interested. I thought this was a bit odd because my interest in history is so directly attached to places like this and I suppose I thought theirs might be too. By the end of the tour, one classmate offered to go along with me, possibly out of pity after everyone else turned me down. We got there and settled in to order only after finding out where we parked was a tow zone and that they did not accept debit/credit cards (I should have been prepared for this, but I never have cash). I felt really bad for my classmate who tried ordering several different menu combinations only to be told that they were out of nearly everything. Finally, he found something from the menu that was still available and once he got the order in the food was out in no time. How was the food? Honestly, not that memorable, but I guess it was good enough that I returned soon after for breakfast!

The second visit was a bit uncomfortable for both myself and Eric. It was nearing 2:45 when we arrived and they closed at 3:15. It's an odd time to close up, but I assumed it was so they could be out of there by 4:00--very understandable. I thought getting there a half an hour before close would be plenty of time to catch some breakfast. The waitress had something scheduled to do right after closing time so she was rushing us as much as possible. There were zero coffee refills and she turned off the diner's flat screen tv (gasp!) shortly after 3:00. Ha, this last one I wasn't upset about because I don't want to watch tv while I'm eating in a restaurant, especially in a diner. The flat screen really sticks out like a sore thumb in that classic diner interior too. The owner, however, got very upset when he noticed the tv was turned off. He had just made himself a bowl of ice cream and sat down in a booth with the paper to enjoy it when he called her over, sat her down within full earshot of us, and scolded her for what a terrible impression he believed she was giving the customers. He continued to make several other chiding comments about her job performance that made us uncomfortable to overhear. We got the hint from the both of them and tried to finish up as quickly as possible to get out of there. We were out the door by 3:20.

I'm more satisfied with the photos that I got to take of the interior while waiting for the meal to arrive than any other part of the experience. The food was ok, but I'd like to go back and sit a bit after my meal with a cup of coffee and take in more of the diner atmosphere---minus the staff arguments and the distraction of the flat screen.

Jake's Diner on Central Ave is a diner that I had passed by many times before finally visiting last weekend. I had even stopped just to take photos one day roughly a month ago, but they were already closed for the day---or so I think. The diner has conflicting signs posted all over the windows that indicate "Yes, We're Open" alongside "Sorry, We're Closed" so I can never actually determine when they are open as I'm driving by. However, I thought for sure they would be open at 11:00 am on a Saturday when I had a chance to stop in.

I first noticed the very diverse group of diners in the restaurant, and secondly, I noticed that a single waitress was on staff to serve all of them. She was being pulled in every direction by customers as she tried to keep the orders moving. It took over ten minutes for her to take our order and quite a bit longer for our food to arrive. There were, however, plenty of coffee refills! Several regulars also entered the diner while we were there waiting and they were greeted by the entire staff.

The real problem arose when I hit the bathroom before paying the bill. I noticed a sign on the door that said not to lock the door, and so I didn't. I simply shut it behind me, but by the time I was washing my hands I heard a panicked voice from outside the bathroom alerting me that I may be locked in. It was my waitress. I tried the door several times and it wouldn't budge. I now heard two people on the other side trying to break it open for me. I was starting to panic too when they weren't able to free me right away. After a few more tries the door finally opened, but the second woman who had come to my rescue went in after me and shut the door to test it again. She, of course, got locked in herself. The waitress was very nervous and went to retrieve a screwdriver to try to get her out and said for us to just leave $6 for our bill as she tried to help her coworker. $6??? There was fresh squeezed grape juice in our order---there was no way it was that cheap! I think she felt sorry for me for getting stuck in the bathroom and so in turn she "forgot" about the other half of the bill. In the end she got a nice tip and I forgot about our initial wait.

We left before the second woman was broken free from the bathroom and now I wonder, Which diner will I go to next???

Our First Soundslides Piece: Discovering Route 20

2008-11-02T20:53:00.000-08:00

If you have seen the photos documenting the exploration over at www.flickr.com/photos/e50e, you already know that we've been quite obsessed with exploring Route 20, just west of Albany, NY this autumn. We also have become interested in creating short audio documentaries after my (Erin's) time at the Salt Institute for Documentary Studies in combination with Eric's knowledge of sound recording and editing. We had actually both signed up for a Digital Storytelling workshop at The Sanctuary for Independent Media in Troy, NY in mid-October, but could not think of a story worth telling in the days leading up to the workshop. When the day of the workshop arrived, we both backed out for fear of having nothing to create and instead traveled back west down Route 20 in search of the tourist cabins that had caught our attention a few weeks prior. It was here that we found the inspiration to create our short audio story.

We used the most basic of equipment for this project: a small Sony cassette recorder, microphone, and a number of (film) cameras. The intent was to document the perspective of a modern day traveler, exploring the remnants of the former tourism route's rich history. We also made the decision to interview one another for our first project because we 1) didn't know anyone else and 2) didn't happen to encounter anyone to interview during the trip. It would have been ideal to have the opportunity to interview those who remember these cabins in use, as well as travelers who may have actually stayed in them at one point.

There are several tourist cabin colonies and motor court motels lining the route, several of the latter still in operation. We have been back to explore them with hopes of expanding this project. With the introduction of the Soundslides software and Cakewalk, there should be more audio projects to come. I know already that I have an oral history project that is due very soon for school. We are looking into other sound recorders, but are quite pleased with what our very basic equipment produced this time around.

The blog creation was also simply a way to post Soundslides projects without the annoying advertisements that are posted alongside them with the free web server URL, from WebNG, that we are using. I figure it will also be a way to post future stories and images associated with my/our explorations of the area outside of flickr.