Springville Museum of Art

There are the great art galleries of the world—The Louvre, The Prado, Hermitage Museum—and there is the Springville Museum of Art (SMA). Although just a morsel in size when compared with the others, the SMA has a very satisfying portion.
 
Located in Springville, Utah, this museum has become a jewel of what has become known as “Art City.” The main gallery fits on one level and it is easily visited in 1-2 hours. For me, this is refreshing when compared to the larger galleries of Europe, where a couple hours would only scratch the surface.
 
I recently visited with my three teenage daughters who enjoyed the wide selection. Jenna liked the sculpture of Sacajawea carrying a baby on her back and Savanah the oversized carton filled with stiffened dress ties instead of french fries.
 

"They are Writing about Us in Pravda" by Aleksei Aleksandrovich Vasilev.

For me, I loved the mixture of local paintings alongside a collection of Russian masterpieces. In one room you will find a dusty stampede of cowboys on canvas, while in the other a scene from the Bolshevik Revolution or an image from Stalin's funeral.
 

One particular work that stands out is an oil painting from artist Engels Vasilevich Kozlv entitled Russian Mother Baking Bread. It depicts a typical Russian woman with scarf wrapped over her head placing a fat loaf of khleb, or bread, into a traditional oven called a Russkaya Pech. A young blond-headed child with freckles on his cheeks is staring straight at the spectator. I like this scene because it captures a glimpse of a daily task that was carried out all along the countryside.
 

"Portrait of a Villager, Mikhailo Gulyaev" by Arkadi Aleksandrovich Plastov.

In the same room there is a painting by Aleksei Aleksandrovich Vasilev of a group of collective farm workers taking a break on a blanket, eating watermelon and reading a Soviet newspaper. They appear to be relaxed and enjoying themselves. The paper they read, the Pravda, is translated as “truth” and was the primary voice of the Bolshevik Party, used to unite the people and promote Soviet ideals. One can't help but to wonder if a painting like this was used as propaganda.
 
When I walk through the halls of this section of the museum, I find that I am craving to visit St. Petersburg, to read Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky, to listen to Tchaikovsky and Shostakovitch. The former Soviet Union, although marred by the black swath of Communism, is a country with a rich heritage of art.
 

"Riders of the Range" by Paul Salisbury.

In another wing of the museum the visitor is conveyed to the other side of the world. They are brought home to the West.
 
Entering the hall there is a large oil on canvas, a dusty scene entitled, Hereford Roundup, by Minerva Teichert. The spectacle is likely a recollection of her days growing up on a ranch in Cokeville, Wyoming.
 

There are also depictions of the Grand Canyon, a Navajo drinking Coke at the fair, two men gleaning potatoes from a field, an abandoned barn, a bronze statue of Kit Carson. Paul Salisbury from Richfield, Utah paints a simple oil on canvas entitled, Riders of the Range. Two cowboys wearing chaps are ready to mount their horses and continue the never-ending tasking of caring for their cattle. There are low-lying mountains in the background and a valley filled with sage brush. This could be anywhere in Utah.
 

One of the artists that caught my attention was Sophie Soprano, whom I later learned was a nom de plume for Lynn Farrar. She has several paintings in the gallery, and most seem to have a common theme of a simple life of days gone by—of horses and orchards and white picket fences, with houses and old trucks and dirt roads. Everything seems to be collapsing into each other, appearing abstract, yet evoking a desire to enter her world. Dogs, cats, children and sheep play in the yard or garden. It is a magical place that conjures nostalgia.
 
A common thread for most of the work at SMA is that it depicts something simple, whether it is baking a loaf of bread or the quiet portrait of a villager. I think that all of us yearn for a life much less complicated than the chaos the world provides. Viewing this art gives us a chance to reflect on our own lives and decide what our portrait would look like. ♠ 

My First Ever Cruise

Several years ago I talked with a sweet old lady who was anxious to embark on an Alaskan Cruise. I became excited for her to see the mountains, whales, glaciers and the tiny fishing hamlets along the "Inside Passage."  When Marge O'Connell returned from her adventure, there was only one thing she could talk about—the food!

That conversation has stuck with me and has influenced the way I view cruises. My travel philosophy is to get out and visit the culture and the people and the sites. Not to stay on a boat and eat food that you could buy anywhere.

I just returned from my first ever cruise. I am 44 years old and will admit that this would not have happened without a wife that was insistent that we go on a cruise. Always the type who sees a positive adventure in almost anything, I was happy to go.

We boarded a ship with Carnival Cruise Line in mid-March to Ensenada, Mexico. I was amazed at how many people they can cram into an ocean liner. I'll bet our boat had at least 2- to 3,0000 passengers, in addition to crew members. The fact that they can lodge, feed and entertain that many people is a miracle.

The ship had twelve levels, with our cabin being on the sixth. For five people, our cabin was pretty cramped. No windows, and two bunk-beds which took up most of the existing floor space. The tiny bathroom hadn't room for much else than a toilet, sink and shower. Needless to say, it was very claustrophobic.

Once the ship embarked, we immediately felt the sway of the ocean. Like cattle in the back of a truck, being tipped by the constant curves of the highway, we felt the undulations of a wavy sea. It didn't take long to feel the seed of sea sickness in the pit of my stomach. (BTW, I don't recommend watching the movie, Titanic, anytime close to when you leave for your trip!)

I will admit, however, that Marge O'Connell was right. It's all about the food. As is well known, almost all the food on a cruise, except for soda and alcoholic beverages, is free. Every meal—sometimes four a day—was a buffet. The best hamburger I've ever eaten was on that ship. I also ate leg of lamb, fish tacos, breakfast burritos, pannini, Japanese sea bass, sea scallops, prosciutto, sweet watermelon and cake. It was always fun to come off the deck after dark, and when passing through the buffet, grab a hot chocolate, slices of pineapple, or an ice cream cone.

That leads me to my next observation. Why do they make you walk through the buffet to get to the elevators that lead to your cabin? The entire layout of the ship was very confusing and we were barely getting a grasp on it by the final day. Once, my daughter left to go back to the room and couldn't find it. It doesn't help that the ship is huge—a swimming pool, several jacuzzi's, a miniature golf course, several restaurants, lounging areas, three water slides, a casino, art gallery, shops, show rooms etc. The route from one to the other was usually never straight. If you were on the tenth level in the “aft” of the boat, and wanted to get somewhere on the tenth level at the “forward” of the boat, you couldn't just walk through the tenth level in the “mid” of the boat, but would have to drop to the ninth level.

Which brings me to another point. We had to learn a few new vocabulary words. It took a while to learn that the stateroom was my cabin, and I'm still not sure where the starboard is. When we first checked in we were instructed several times that we would have to report to our muster station. We were all baffled. What was a “mustard” station?

I was surprised at how many Italians were on the boat, including some of the captains. I don't understand the concept of flying to the other side of the world to go on vacation, then to spend it out at sea. In addition to the many foreigners, I would say that most of the passengers were American. Many, I believe, came on the cruise to get drunk and act like idiots.

Of all the people we rubbed shoulders with, the one we saw the most was our room-cleaner, an older man from Vietnam. I could barely understand a word he said, but he was very polite and smiled every time we walked past. I don't believe that working on a cruise line is as glamorous as one might think. Our Vietnamese friend probably cleans over a hundred rooms a day in what feels like the dungeon of the boat, never seeing sunlight.

The preconceived image of sitting on a pool chair, sipping a drink, while feeling the warm breeze slide over your body wasn't exactly our experience. Of our two full days at sea, both were overcast with periods of rain. A sighting of the sun was rare. Once I dared myself to go down the water slide with my daughters and I could only stand to do it for about fifteen minutes. The climb to the top of the long serpentine slide (which happened to be almost the highest point of the ship) was excruciating miserable. Any hint of sun lay hidden behind thick gray clouds and a strong wind blustered hard against my wet flesh.

Some of our favorite moments were when we caught a glimpse of whales or dolphins. The whales were always further away and usually we could only see the spew of water high in the air from the blow hole. Once I caught sight of a large black fin that emerged briefly from the water. The dolphins came in pods and moved across quickly, their full body leaping in a low arc just above the surface of the water. It was usually Jenna, my daughter, who made the amazing finds.

I enjoyed going on the deck at night and looking across the ocean. Sometimes there would be a distant orange light on the sea-side of the ship, perhaps another ocean liner or oil rig. Once we saw another cruise ship passing in the opposite direction. Along the coast there was usually a thin line of faint lights, some in thicker clusters. Sometimes there was a soft suggestion of a mountain. At night the waters are deep and dark, with choppy white-water just below the stern of the boat. On our final night of the cruise there was a light mist that fell from the starless sky.

As for our day in Ensenada, I will admit that it was a little disappointing. We had a lot of fun, but I can't really say that I've experienced Ensenada. We went zip-lining and spent time at a flea market geared toward the tourists. I won't go into any further detail here since I have already posted on my Ensenada experience, but I will advise that if you want to become acquainted with another country, spending half a day there as a port of call is not the way to do it.

There was a time before our cruise when I became excited about going to Mexico and began looking into some of the longer cruises. A seven day trip with stops in Cabo San Lucas, Puerto Vallarta and Matzalan cost only $459 a person. Losing some of my common sense, I began to think that maybe this was a good option to “see” many different places in the country.

But then I came to my senses and remembered that a round-trip ticket to Mexico City costs less than $200, while food and lodging are next to nothing. Everything there would be the real-deal and I could spend at least two weeks there if I wanted! ♠