St. Louis Theatre Crawl - Intro

Late post today. I started shooting at the St. Louis Theatre Crawl last night, fell asleep as soon as I got home, and there was too much family stuff on Saturday. This is from something called The Statement of Randolph Carter by a new group, Theatre Macbre. I think it had something to do with H. P. Lovecraft.

Gotta get back to work.       

Red roses in the green vineyards

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Roses planted in a vineyard??
If you are from rural Italy or France or California you probably know about this tradition.
But it was news to me when our tour guide pointed it out on June 12, just as the scene was quickly  disappearing from the bus window.
We were traveling through the Jerusalem Hills, west of Jerusalem.

He explained the roses as an early warning system.
Roses are more susceptible to the same type of fungal disease (e.g. powdery mildew and downy mildew) than the grapevine. 
So if there are signs of trouble on the roses the farmer knows that action needs to be taken soon or the grapevines will be infected next. 

I later read on a European website: 

Another reason I have heard is that in addition to being a ‘canary’ when the vines were worked with draft horses or oxen,  roses encouraged them to turn properly at the end of the rows because of their thorns, ensuring that the working animals weren’t tempted to cut a corner and damage the last vine.

Or this from Australia:

. . . many a vineyard manager would smile at this quaint romantic notion. Their job is more sophisticated than watching the roses bloom. In these days of modern technology roses are planted at the rows end for purely cosmetic reasons, but don't let that spoil another great story...

Some time ago in the Hunter Valley in New South Wales I quizzed one of the “old timers” in the area about the same issue. His response left me wondering whether or not he was “having a lend of me”.
In the early days of grape growing, before any mechanisation, the vineyard work was completed using horses and horse pulled equipment. The best source of strong “draught horses” were the local coalmines where any pulling work involved horses.
Sadly the distance underground was so far that the horses used were stabled in areas deep underground and, while they were very well cared for, their eyesight eventually became a casualty of the environment. The period horses were kept underground was mercifully short but permanent damage to their vision occurred. As the horses were “traded out” the local farmers and grape growers sought to utilise their great strength and stamina, particularly working with ploughs in vineyards where the rows were quite narrow.

Now the reason for the roses at the ends of the rows, as explained by this particular veteran, was to let the ‘blind’ horses know when they reached the end and it was time to turn. Roses in the Hunter Valley constantly bloom almost all year. I was never able to convince myself either way with his story; Australians can be very straight-faced when “spinning a yarn”. I will leave it up to you to decide.

Friends And Neighbors

I don't know what to say. Whatever floats your boat, as the saying has it. That's part of the idea behind the Pridefest Parade.

New assignment tonight and tomorrow. It's time for the St. Louis Theatre Crawl. More than thirty local theater groups give brief performances as the audience rotates from one to another every half hour, taking their pick from an artistic buffet. I'm one of the volunteer photographers.              

All The Time

Nephew's is a bar near the baseball stadium. I doubt that everything that goes on in a bar promotes the good of mankind. However, the owner is dabbling in theology and philosophy while overlooking the Holocaust, any war you care to pick, what happened to people before clean public water and sanitation systems and death in childbirth. 

There has been a debate for millennia about how God could be all-knowing, all-powerful and all-merciful, and yet allow the suffering that pervades the world. It's known as the problem of evil.  So you could have some irony with your Budweiser. Or maybe this blog is just getting too heavy.          

Bliss Out

Another image from the Pagan Picnic.  Reminds me of that old song If You're Going To San  Francisco. Except this is St. Louis. Maybe not as romantic.        

Iftar (my first!) at Wadi Attir in the wide desert

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I got to participate in a lovely iftar this week, my first!
No, it wasn't in this big Bedouin hospitality tent, but it WAS in the courtyard of the new buildings next to it.

It was at Project Wadi Attir, a new and growing Bedouin + Jewish sustainability initiative in the Negev desert.
If you enlarge this photo all the way, you can see the modern and clean sheep and goat shed.
One of their ways to have income is to make and sell cheese.
Traditional Bedouin medicinal herbs and cosmetics are another.

Here is the courtyard where we assembled and later, at sundown, ate.

The iftar was in collaboration with Women Wage Peace, a multi-faith non-political movement formed by women in the aftermath of the big 2014 conflict with Gaza.
They arranged a panel discussion by a Muslim of Wadi Attir, a Polish Catholic priest from Beer Sheva, and a woman rabbi, who presented the different attitudes and approaches to religious fasting.

On the left: Lina Alatawna, the new young (!) female (!!) Bedouin Director General of Project Wadi Attir--a big success story!  See here:
http://www.sustainabilitylabs.org/wadiattirnews/lina-alatawna-named-general-manager-of-pwa/

On the right: "Ghadir Hani, formerly our Executive Secretary, has begun working with Ali in the Field Crops department, managing outreach and sales, and helping with special programs. In addition to farmer's markets, Ghadir has also been introducing the products to new markets through word-of-mouth marketing events in people's homes in nearby neighborhoods like Omer, and has been a fixture at special local events..."  quoted from the April newsletter.

The  man wearing a kipa is my town Meitar's mayor; he also spoke, as did the mayor of our neighboring Bedouin town, Hura.

While the adults heard the talks, the Bedouin kids and their young Jewish guests made squares for a peace quilt out in the tent.

The following day, Unity Day in Israel, this happened (quoted from Women Wage Peace English Facebook page):

Unity Day at the Women Wage Peace Mothers’ Tent outside the Knesset
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On June 6th, Unity Day, we will spread out 150 quilts which were sewn from thousands of Pieces for Peace which we received from all over the world; we will then create a human chain of unity, and will express our common longing for peace; later Yael Decklebaum will join us at the tent and will sing her songs and talk about her journeys to peace; we will sing the Prayer of the Mothers with her.
1-4 PM Presentation of the Peace Quilts in the Rose Garden
4 PM A human chain along the street leading to the Knesset

After all was said and done, the sun set and we hastened outside to the waiting tables full of good food (some prepared by the hosts and some brought by us guests).
The Muslims dug in without hesitation.
They had been fasting from food AND water from before 4:00 a.m. until 7:47 p.m.!  
I can't imagine having that kind of self-discipline and devotion for the entire month of Ramadan, which often falls during our very hot summer.
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Here is a nice explanation from "What You Should Know Before Attending Your First Iftar."

The fast itself is considered a purification of sins and a time to cleanse mind, body, and soul. Feeding a fasting person is believed to come with great reward from God and therefore many individuals, organizations, mosques, and community centers will offer an Iftar gathering in which the breaking of the fast is celebrated. It's usually not a ceremonial affair, although at many community gatherings this is often seen as an opportunity to educate and create an inter-faith gathering with delicious food, friends, and conversation.

Ramadan kareem!
(This blessing/greeting means "May you have a generous Ramadan," i.e. be generous in your giving to others.)
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Back in Jerusalem for a day

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Yesterday I traveled northward an hour and a quarter by bus.
Getting off the bus, I stood on the corner for a few minutes marveling at how different Jerusalem is compared to the Negev.
There was Calatrava's graceful Bridge of  Strings which I watched being built since the mid-2000s.
Never mind that a Brink's armored truck photo-bombed the picture.  :)

I turned to my right and this huge banner gave me a jolt; like, "Dina, we're not in Beer Sheva anymore!"
In not-very-religious Beer Sheva you see many different groupings (Ethiopian Jews, Russian immigrants, Bedouin, etc.), but ultra-orthodox Jews are few and far between.
In the photo is Rabbi Mordechai Eliyahu who was the Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel 1983-93 and died on June 7, 2010.
The banner calls people to attend a "hilulat Maran," a celebration of his life on the anniversary of his death at his tomb in Jerusalem.
To learn about the Aramaic honorific title "maran" for highly respected rabbis, see Wiki.

Shabbat shalom!
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New York Restaurants - Santina

When Mrs. C and I left the Whitney last Monday we had an hour to kill before our dinner reservation. Right around the corner from the museum, sort of jammed under the end of the Highline, is a restaurant called Santina. We went in and sat at the bar.

The place seemed to have some fizz. They gave us the drinks list and the first was a negroni. I love negronis. The price was absurd by STL standards but, what the hell, I love negronis. Down the hatch. (See last photo.) It was the best I've ever had, light on the Campari.

The staff whipped up all kinds of exotic cocktails. The one above looked like - what? - an avocado volcano.  The place was fun and had an eclectic staff. The hostess on the right was taller than me. The wall art below is made of broken painted plates. We would go back to try the food.      

City Daily Photo Theme Day - Me

There is plenty more to come from New York but it's the first of the month and City Daily Photo theme day. There aren't a lot of photos with me in front of the lens. Most of them are for an online class or some exercise I set for myself. These pix are a few years old. The top one is full lawyer battle dress. The second is quiet and shows what RA has done to my hands. Then there is the double arch joke picture on my Facebook page. 

The theme makes me think of one of my favorite photographers, Cindy Sherman, who photographs herself over and over in a myriad of different personas. You can be whoever you want in an image.