Modern India - The Ideal Beach Resort

After the hustle and bustle of Chennai, and still a bit jet-lagged, we were anxious to get to the decadent part of our trip, a stay at the Ideal Beach Resort. (The website has music, so mute your speakers.)  I had booked this online, based on pictures and reviews, and so was a bit nervous about how it would pan out.  Luckily, it was indeed Ideal.  From the warm and professional welcome at Reception, to our walk around the grounds, to our spacious “sea facing cottage” with a dressing room and luxurious bath, everything about the resort was delightful.  Here’s the view from our  second floor balcony (all pictures enlarge when you click on them):

In the evenings, we sat outside to play cards and watch bats swooping about gracefully and catching moths. 
The restaurant was excellent, the food was a definite cut above average and the atmosphere pleasant:

There was a nice pool--one of the reasons I chose the resort was for an environment where we could wear bathing suits without offending sensibilities:

The entire complex seemed well maintained, and they were working on a new tile surround for the pool.  This being India, we were treated to the juxtaposition of travellers from around the globe splashing and having fun in the pool, while at one end a group of workers trundled sand and tiles in handcarts,  mixed concrete and grout in buckets, and laid tile:

The most important part of a beach resort, of course, is the beach.  It was wide and clean, lined with huts and palm trees hung with hammocks, and a very pleasant place to pass the time.  The undertow was fierce on the days we were there, and swimming was not recommended, but there was no lifeguard regardless so it was a moot point for me.  We got up early both days to go watch the sunrise. 


A good place for a sun salutation:

And to watch the beach dogs:

And the crows:

The fishermen launching out into the sea:

The cattle:


All in all, a very relaxing experience:

Modern India - Chennai

My India adventure is off to a grand start!  After a very long (27 hour) but thankfully uneventful journey, we landed at the Chennai airport.  A friend-of-a-friend connection had fortuitously led us to make arrangements with Sashi, a beautiful and gracious young woman, who met us at the airport.  Sashi took us to her family home, where we met her parents and brother, and  fed us a delicious breakfast of freshly made dosas.  After a much needed and regenerative nap, she picked us up at the hotel and took us out and about in her Mylapore neighborhood. We were honored to be invited to accompany her to  the Kapaleeshwarar Temple, where she regularly worships. The temple complex is ancient, and very beautiful.   Photos are not allowed inside the temple, but even if they were I would have been hesitant to take any, out of respect to the celebrants.  It was a very moving and meaningful experience to observe the rites, and to participate in the ones open to those not of the Hindu faith. 
And that big bag I’m holding in the picture above?  Yep, it’s full of silk.  Sashi knew the best place to shop, and thanks to her I discovered a new category of silk to purchase.  It’s a sort of do-it-yourself shalwar kameez kit. There’s a length of fabric, already embroidered, to be made into the tunic by your tailor, another one for the pants, and a length dyed to match chiffon for the scarf.  The scarfs in these sets are poly, but the rest is glorious silk.  I somehow managed to stop myself at only four sets:


I think these are going to be enormously useful in the studio, once I muster the courage to cut into them, as I will have the embroidered bits to work with.  They are of a medium weight silk.  I also purchased some meter lengths of finer shot silk:

Aren’t they gorgeous?  And so much fun to purchase--here’s how it works in a shop in India.  There was a general floor manager, who inquired as to what I wanted, and directed me to the manager for the “fine silks”.  He pulled bolts from behind the counter for me to look at, gave them poetic names (the one on the left he called “sunset”), and made further suggestions.  As I made my selections, he passed the bolts to two underlings, and supervised as they measured, made the cuts, and wrote and affixed the small labels.

We then proceeded to the sales counter, where Sales Clerk 1 entered all the information from the labels and printed up an invoice for my inspection.  I approved it, handed it  to Sales Clerk 2, who reviewed it and handed it to Sales Clerk 3.  Sales Clerk 3 reviewed the invoice, swiped my credit card, and handed the invoice and credit receipt back to Clerk 2, who had me sign them both, and gave me my copies.  I then handed the invoice back to to Sales Clerk 1, who reviewed all the paperwork and the labels one more time, packaged everything up, and gave it to me.  That makes 7 people involved in this one purchase, and doesn’t count the doorman, the elevator attendant, and the 3 or 4 clerks who helped me purchase the kits on another floor. 

I appreciate the terrific and attentive customer service, and it makes shopping an interactive experience.  On the other hand, as a modern westernized woman, I am used to parking in automated self service garages, walking through automatic doorways or opening doors myself, picking out my groceries and consumer goods on my own, and paying at self-service scanners. It’s one of those unexpected bits of cultural differences that are mildly unsettling at first, but quickly become habit. After only a few days in India, I am now swanning through doorways everywhere without the slightest expectation of having to deal with them myself.

Another big cultural difference is the approach to driving.  I live in the suburbs, and take it as a matter of course that I will drive myself to wherever I need to go.  In Chennai, Sashi’s family’s driver took us about town and to our next destination (many, many thanks!), and I have been and will continue to hire drivers for any other expeditions.  Driving in India is not for the faint of heart or inexperienced.  Lanes, signs, and signals seem to be regarded as mere suggestions, to be followed, or not, as whim and circumstance dictate.  The road is shared by lorries, autos, auto-rickshaws, bike rickshaws, bicyclists, pedestrians, and the ubiquitous scooters, many carrying the entire family of father, mother, and one or two small children.  Occasionally there is a cow, goat, or water buffalo. There is a lot of horn honking, and for the most part it all works out.  Once you get over your amazement, it is fascinating to watch.  Travel is very broadening!

An editorial note:  When I started this blog years ago, I decided to focus on art, the inspiration that leads to the art, and the travel that nourishes it.  I wanted to keep a professional tone, and for the most part have left out personal references.  I do have a family, a wonderful one, that includes my fabulous and incredibly supportive husband who I often travel with, my two adult daughters and their respective spouses, and my young grandson, who I can assure you is incredibly cute and talented. I’ve chosen not to include them in the blog, partly because of relevance, but also because the have their own lives, both personal and digital, and are fully capable of representing themselves as they see fit. 

But blogs evolve, and I’ve reached a point where I am making an exception to my policy.  My daughter Alice is a major part of my India jaunt; she is travelling here on business and invited me to join her on the trip.  I am fortunate to be sharing this experience with her, and as we are posing for a lot of pictures together it seems appropriate to include her.  You’ll be seeing more of both of us in the days to come!

Central Pennsylvania Festival of the Arts Judging

I was in State College, PA, on July 14 - 16, to serve on the Juror’s panel for the Central Pennsylvania Festival of the Arts Sidewalk Sale.  I wrote previously about the initial jurying process here; now the jurors reassembled to visit each of the artist’s booths, score them, and award prizes.  Luckily, the weather was practically perfect, which made visiting the approximately 350 booths a bit less of a daunting enterprise.  Pictured above are some of the booths on the Mall on campus; others were on Allen and adjacent streets nearby.
It takes an enormous amount of time and effort to vend at a show like this--the artist needs to first conceptualize and then produce the work, at various price points and in sufficient quality, put together a coherent and workable booth design, take images and submit them for jurying, then transport it all to the site, set it up, and staff the booth for long hours in all kinds of weather conditions. So scoring the booths was an assignment all the jurors took very seriously.  We had an aide to guide us and make sure we got to each one, and at each booth I made an effort to introduce myself and speak a few words with the craftsperson/artist where possible. (I did not interrupt an artist in the midst of a sale!)   I felt that the quality of the works exhibited was consistently high, and was careful in my deliberations.  After my initial round of scoring, I went back the next day and reviewed the booths and my decisions.

Pictured above is the juror panel, l-r Karla Prickett, myself, Pam Lautsh (Sidewalk Sale coordinator), Jimmy Clark, Sharon Massey, and Ron Thurston. We worked well together, and while were impressed with much of the work, in the end it was clear which  was the most deserving. We were all very pleased with the choices we made.  We were even more pleased to be able to sit on the stage and see the looks on the artist’s faces as the winners were announced.  It was a distinct pleasure to be able to award recognition--and cash--to such deserving individuals.

Best of Show went to ceramicist Luis Enrique Gutierrez, from Zebulon, NC. The Best of Show award comes with a $2,500 cash prize. You can see the other prize winners on the Festival Blog.


Here I am with my friend, and Festival volunteer extraordinaire, Anni Matsick, next to the mister.  My thanks again to all those involved in running the Festival and allowing me to have a part in it. I had a wonderful time!

Vintage India - Mysore

Oh, Mysore, such a wonderful city!  I was enrolled at and attended the University of Mysore, in the Manasagangotri campus, and fell in love with the city and the people.  Most days, after classes, I would take the short ride in an auto rickshaw into town.  You can see a black and yellow rickshaw, a three wheeled vehicle with a small and wheezy engine, in this picture:

Bananas where a common purchase and a staple of my diet.  Until then, I had no idea that they came in such a wide variety.  The very small ones were a favorite:

I could get my meals at the University cafeteria, but often ate out, or sometimes bought things to cook on a hot plate in the dorm room, so a trip to the market was often on the agenda.  Farmer’s markets are essentially the same the world over, I think, and I felt at home here among the green beans:

And the tomatoes:

But the piles of powders used for bindi dots, and the sticks of incense, where a colorful and exotic touch:

This street musician was one of a panoply of buskers, sword swallowers, snake charmers, and yogis standing on beds of nails I grew accustomed to.  I was always a soft touch for a bit of baksheesh.

Sometimes I browsed the selections at the Lakshmi Vilas Saree Specialists, but I never quite got the hang of wearing a sari in my daily life.

I settled on a uniform of long skirts and shirts made from hand-woven khadi cloth, very beautiful, breathable, and comfortable.  They were not a ready made item, or something commonly worn by women, but I got away with it because I was obviously foreign and taking the trouble to cover up in a modest fashion.  I had them tailored by this man:

The men on the left and center were part of the family that owned the small textile business, and the man on the right did the tailoring and sewing.  He cut everything freehand after you picked out a fabric and described what you wanted, then stitched it together on his treadle machine. He did an excellent job. Word got around among the foreign students, and I think we contributed significantly to the fortunes of this enterprise that fall.
I did splurge on one magnificent silk sari, embellished with gold threads. I am modeling it here in the family home of the textile business owners.  The invited several of us for dinner to show their appreciation, and treated us fabulously with traditional Indian hospitality.  The women in the family helped me arrange the sari properly and appropriately:

Most of my time in Mysore was  taken up with classes, socializing, and the routines of daily life, but I did get out for some local sightseeing at places like the renowned Brindavan Gardens:

And even every day life was often exotic and sublime.  An Indian friend was studying dance, and stopped by one day on his way to a performance to give us all a treat:

Back at the dorm, under the auspices of a very strict matron, I did my schoolwork, learning history and culture, and attempting to learn the written language of Kannada (the red marks are my errors, but still rather a success, I think):

It was a simple, almost monastic existence, with very few objects and possessions.   A bed with a mosquito net, a small desk and folding chair, and a closet with a few shelves were the extent of it.  Here I am in a happy contemplative moment:

I did have sheets and blankets, of course, but when this snapshot was taken they were being attended to by the laundry ladies in the courtyard:

The school year at the University was punctuated by a month long break in the fall, which I took advantage  of by setting off to travel by second class train and explore the country.  Here I am, all bright and shiny and eager:

I hope you’ve enjoyed my wandering recaps of my escapades in this series of posts.  Stay tuned as I venture out again, every bit as eager, and almost as bright and shiny, for another grand adventure in India.
Here are the rest of the posts in this series: Calcutta and Goa, Rameswaram, Bodh Gaya, Benares, Khajuraho, Kerala, Chennakeshava and Hoysaleswara, Tamil Nadu, Bombay, and Taj Mahal and Agra.

Vintage India - Calcutta (Kolkata) and Goa

I’m making some big leaps with today’s vintage India post, in terms of both geography and ambience.  I’m starting with Calcutta, now known as Kolkata, in the state of Bengal.   I experienced it as a sprawling and chaotic city, and while I had a good experience, as witnessed by my smiling self in a rickshaw, above, I paused there only briefly. 

Heavy rains during my visit caused widespread flooding in the streets, and it seemed unwise to hang around in the increasingly unsanitary conditions, so thanks to another rickshaw driver, seen above heroically pulling me to the train station, I proceeded on my peripatetic way.

Several weeks and many, many miles later, I found myself in the former Portuguese colony of Goa, on the opposite coast,by the Arabian Sea. 

I was road-weary from my long meanderings, and found a beach cottage to sojourn in.

The beaches were lovely, the lifestyle was very laid-back, and the food was incredibly hot, even by Indian standards. 

It was a popular spot for foreign tourist of all stripes, as well as Indians on holiday.  My holiday was ending, I was running very low on money, and I had no wish to join the ranks of hippie burn-outs who seemed to have landed there and fallen prey to inertia, so I enjoyed a few sunsets and set my course homeward to University of Mysore to resume my studies.

Vintage India - Rameswaram

Continuing my tour through India, circa 1974, we come to the city of Rameswaram, at the tip of the Indian peninsula on the sea coast. It had a lot to recommend it, with a stunning temple complex and the picturesque views of the shoreline.  I‘m glad I was able to visit, but it was the one place in my travels where I was at times distinctly uneasy.  The attitude of many of the inhabitants of the town at that time towards foreigners could be summed up by this image:

Although, to be fair, there was also this crowd, anxious to have their picture taken:

Also, to be fair, one of my travelling companions at that time was not, as they  say, a very chilled out dude, and that doubtlessly affected my experience.  At any rate, the temple complex was wonderful:

And here I am posing with some hesitancy:

One of the shrines:

And a spectacular view from the top of the gopuram:

Some fishing boats:

And my hotel boasted a peacock in the garden:

Vintage India - Bodh Gaya

Today we travel in the wayback machine to Bodh Gaya in Bihar, the site of the Bodhi tree where the Gautama Buddha is said to have achieved enlightenment.

The tree growing there now is not the original one, of course, but is thought to be a direct descendant of the one that the Buddha meditated under.  

Apart from its spiritual significance, it is also an impressive specimen of a ficus religiosa, and spills out over its enclosure.

Nearby is the Mahabodhi temple, above, and the stupas in the courtyard, below.  It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site:

I feel privileged to have visited, however briefly, such a calm and reverent place.

Art Quilts made with Indian Silks

Since I’ve been posting a series of my mid-70’s vintage India photos, in preparation for a return trip to have adventures and procure textiles, I wanted to share more of the impetus for the trip--the beautiful textile works made possible by the exquisite silks of India.  I have a particular fondness for silks manufactured in the Mysore region of Karnataka, India.  The were my first introduction to silk--not a fabric common in my childhood--and remain my favorite because of their luminescence and “hand”, the way they feel and drape.  I posted previously about the silks, and a factory in Bangalore that produces them, here.  Today I am featuring just a few of the works I have made using them.  All of the pictures enlarge when you click on them, and the links take you to my website where there are detail views.

Poke Salad was the first quilt I made using the cyanotype process that I have come to love and rely upon for much of my imagery. The center panel is very complex, with a variety of leaves depicted and enhanced by hand embroidery.  I wanted to enhance the panel with simple shapes and a wealth of color, and the Mysore silks worked out perfectly.  Because of their luster and intensity, all the colors play nicely together without losing their separate identity.

Sweetgum in Autumn is another of my earlier works, again using a cyanotype image that I hand embroidered.  Sweetgum trees are unique in that their autumn foliage can vary on any individual tree from yellows and reds, through to oranges and even purple tones. I used those colors of silks to construct informal log-cabin style blocks that bring the deep sparkle of the oblique autumn sunlight into the piece.

In Royal Paulownia, I again used a log cabin format to construct blocks, this time mixing the silks with handspun and hand-woven Indian cottons to provide a wonderful contrast of tones and textures.

For Reed Run, I kept the construction uncomplicated, and let the silks and the hand-woven cotton, along with a deep, rich woolen, reflect the serenity of a walk in the deep woods along a sparkling stream. 

Silks add depth and character to the random patchwork that forms part of the construction of my huge Plume Poppy.

Purple and green silks , along with hand-wovens and fabrics that I hand painted, are an integral part of one of my newest works, Columbine.

I hope you have enjoyed this mini tour of my art quilts, and invite you to visit my website for many more examples of how high quality textiles like Mysore silks form an integral part of my body of work.