Last week, while on vacation, I thought I would try something a bit different with this blog. I didn’t have much time then to write more than the usual quote and "This Day in History" posts that have been features of this blog since it was first established.
But over time, I've wanted the blog to be as freewheeling as I intended it to be—a return to its original intent, if you will. Time away from home and work provided as good an opportunity as any for something like this.
I’m not going to recapitulate my “Quote of the Day” posts from last week, which reviewed statements made by several speakers from last week. There was so much else going on last week, though, that I think my readers will understand after reading this just how crowded and rewarding my destination, the Chautauqua Institution, can be.
Every summer since 1874, this nonprofit institution has played host to thousands of vacationers like myself seeking recreation, spiritual understanding, and intellectual and artistic revitalization. It glories in the rich paradox at the art of its mission: to address the issues of the present and future in a setting rooted firmly in the past.
As with the other half-dozen times I've come here over the last 14 years, I journeyed eight days ago to this Victorian Era village in the southwest corner of New York State via Pittsburgh, which is less than three hours away as well as where my oldest brother lives.
After Sunday Mass, my brother John and I stopped at an exhibition at Pittsburgh’s Carnegie museum called "Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition"--fascinating stuff, but at $20 for an exhibition separate from the rest of the museum, a bit pricey. (I'll have more to say about this exhibition before it closes.)
Day One: Sunday
I reached Chautauqua by 5 pm Sunday the 3rd, just in time for a meet-and-greet at where I'm staying, the Carey Cottage Inn. Since I was here last, a decade ago, the inn has been renovated.
Though the other guests and I were relieved that our rooms now feature air conditioning, we lamented the loss of the house's restaurant—part of a bothersome long-term trend that has seen most of the eateries on the grounds here at Chautauqua vanish.
Nevertheless, I was pleased with my second-floor room. I later learned from the resident housekeeper, the very helpful Harriet Culp, that one of my musical heroes, George Gershwin, stayed in a room just down the hall from me. He hoped to complete "Concerto in F Major" while here in the 1920s—though, in truth, he was such a convivial guy, always so ready to play for anybody on any occasion, that I'm not surprised he had to do most of his hard work on the piece in a piano shack on the periphery of the grounds.
Originally, Harriet said, Gershwin was supposed to stay on the third floor of the inn, but smoking was not allowed in the rooms (an errant match would have sent the wooden house up in flames in no time). Instead, he was moved to the second floor which, conveniently, had a porch where he could slip out for a cigarette.
His room—still there—was only a few steps from the porch. As I looked out on the narrow streets below, I could easily imagine how relaxed the great composer must have been in the morning as he looked out.
After the meet-and-greet, I spent the evening wandering the grounds (including Bestor Plaza, seen, with the library in the background, in the accompanying photo), had a buffet dinner at the Tally-Ho Restaurant, and started to read the paper from the weekend.
In past years, I’ve taken a tour of the institution’s mighty Massey Organ and attended an interfaith service, with hymns and a beautiful chorus, in the Amphitheater. This year, however, after my three-hour drive, I badly needed some rest, so I turned in.
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