The Cleopatra of the Race-Track
Works by pioneering 19th century African American artist appear in strange places
Marble bust of Christ recovered from closet in Scottish castle: ’Old Arrowmaker’ recovered from Québec City junk shop.
Historical Society of Forest Park, Ill. preserves statue of Nilotic Queen using unorthodox techniques
Edmonia Lewis has faded so far into obscurity that, until a few years ago, experts had no idea when the African American and indigenous sculptor died, where she was buried, or what had happened to the more than 100 marble pieces she created.
The handful of working Lewis sleuths — the academics, conservators, and art aficionados who have devoted their careers to tracking her work — have only recently uncovered some of the most basic details of her life and death. Lewis belonged to a coterie of American expatriate women sculptors in Rome, where she went to live in 1865, and never married. She was born in East Greenbush, New York, to an Ojibwe mother and Haitian father. An older half brother, Samuel Lewis, struck it rich in the California gold rush and financed her art studies at Oberlin College.
Lewis, who had faced intense discrimination and a near-lynching at Oberlin after she was accused of …
Bouquets and Brickbats
To Avi Curtis and Liam Ireland of Waukee, Iowa, who went trick-or-treating last year only to notice a bowl of candy outside one of the houses being stolen by a group of young thieves. Using the candy they had collected for themselves, they refilled the empty bowl and then stood outside the house and distributed it to their fellow trick-or-treaters. Liam explained that he had lost his brother to suicide ten months earlier, on Christmas Eve, and his brother had taught him that acts of kindness were important. “He did everything for me, so I show other people kindness,” he explained.
To rock legend Michael McDonald, formerly of the Doobie Brothers and Steely Dan, who took the time to meet 11-year-old superfan Paisley Gardner, invited her to a show in Nebraska, and then winked at her onstage. Asked what she loves about McDonald, Paisley identified the qualities of his famous voice: “It’s very, very wispy and …
Cribbage is a Family Game
Bagging the muggins with Penelope
Take that, you pig-fuckers
Old age is no country for young men
Over the past two decades, I have played thousands upon thousands of cribbage games, the overwhelming majority of them against my pops. At this point in our lives, cribbage has become the most agreeable way we can relate to each other, a 20-minute sanctuary where hard topics like politics, my life goals and aspirations, and his memory losses become comfortingly irrelevant. All that matters is pegs in a board.
My pops taught me the arcane rules of cribbage when I was around ten years old, and I have done my best to spread the gospel ever since. This task is something of an uphill battle given the popular consensus that cribbage is an “old man’s game.” At my age, at least, a good cribbage partner can be hard to find.
Most people (unless they, too, were taught by their father or mother or uncle or grandad) shy away from the laundry list of rules, the three different stages of the game, and the …
