Art

The Lost Art of Shoebox Dioramas

Jeanna G6 Comments

I recently bought a pair of running shoes, and I kept them in their shoebox in my car for when I go to the gym. My dogs like to go for rides whenever possible, and the last time they jumped into the car, they both managed to trample the shoebox. My immediate thought was, “Darn it! I could’ve used that for something.” But then, when I was carrying the empty box to the recycling bin, I asked myself, “What would I use this for?” And then the answer came to me: A shoebox diorama! Growing up, at least once a year in elementary school, we had to make some kind of shoebox diorama. One year it was a farm yard, another was a scene from the Jurassic period, then outer space, symbols from one of the 50 states, and then the Wild West. I’m sure it’s no mystery what happened to these 3-D assignments that required more than just a swipe and tap of a finger.

My daughter has an app in which she designs rooms in houses, stores, restaurants, and other hangouts in a virtual world. When I was a kid, I built a dollhouse, painted the walls, and filled it with upcycled furniture, before upcycling was a trend. (Remember those little round pieces of plastic with three legs that kept the pizza box lids from sticking to the cheese? They made perfect end tables for my Barbies.) My brother builds pirate ships out of Legos, and my dad built one in a bottle out of wood, wire, and glue. All of these are dioramas, and perfect for hobbyists. Even so, I think building a shoebox diorama is an elementary school rite of passage that every child should experience.

When I walked back inside after recycling my shoebox, I saw my daughter was watching “Night at the Museum.” It occurred to me that the natural history museum is filled with giant dioramas.

The app my daughter uses is very cool, and she’s definitely learning and using her imagination, bu maybe we can think inside the box, instead. We can visit a museum, maybe one that exhibits interior design marvels. Or, we could go on a Parade of Homes to see how our contemporaries are decorating their spaces. And then, after some research, we design our dream space… inside a shoebox. I wonder, will she think my idea is a shoe-in, or will she tell me to put a lid on it?

Music 101

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I’ve finally started watching Outlander, thanks to the not-so-gentle prodding of a friend. As one does when binging a series, I skip the recaps and intros. I just started season 5, and was a bit slow on grabbing the remote, so I heard the theme song, and I am so glad I did. Each season comes with a new version of the theme song; this version is sung a cappella by a choir. The accents, the crescendos, the fermatas, the harmonies…it is ethereal, it is stirring, and it is haunting.

I consider myself very fortunate to have been raised in a town that supported its school music programs. We all sang to Mrs. Clark’s direction from 1st to 5th grade. We learned the recorder. Band was optional, but it began in 5th grade. Band and Choir continued through middle and high school with options to join the jazz and marching bands, and the chamber choir. I chose all three. Part of the reason was because we had enthusiastic and talented leaders, Mrs. Imse and Mr. Pearson, especially. They loved what they did, and it showed, and it was their love that inspired and enabled us to be as good as we were. We made great music together, and it felt so good to be a part of an arts program that could bring many different people together to create something beautiful. I especially loved singing in the chamber choir, being a part of the six part harmonies, and knowing that we all wanted to blend together, not single ourselves out.

Hearing the choir on Outlander sing The Skye Boat Song is magical in the way only music can be; it transports and reawakens the soul to a past life, and stirs the desire to want to live it again.

The Second of Firsts – My First Concert

Jeanna GLeave a comment

My first concert was January 16, 1987 at the Hartford Civic Center. I was just shy of 8 years old. My family had gone to watch the Hartford Hawks play Canisius College, and after the basketball game, the court was removed, a stage was erected, and then Smokey Robinson graced us with his talents. How did I remember that date? I didn’t. You’d be amazed what you can find on the World Wide Web.

I’ve also been to a number of outdoor concerts with my parents. A lot of them were part of Cigna’s Sunset Sounds summer concert series in Bloomfield, CT. There were huge fields outlined with speakers and filled with picnickers listening and dancing to the music. We never sat too close to the stage, so I don’t remember much about who was performing, but I do remember walking close enough to see Crystal Gayle’s hair sweeping the floor one of those evenings.

My first concert without my parents was when I was in 8th grade. Two friends and I got dropped off at the Bushnell in Hartford to see the Black Crowes. It was awesome! Chris Robinson was wearing crushed green velvet bell-bottoms with a lace up crotch and a white shirt that is best described as something a pirate would wear. I remember wondering why people were burning incense during the show. It was another year or so before I realized that incense wasn’t what I was smelling.

The Bushnell is also where I saw my first Broadway musical. Cats was on one of its US tours in the 80s. I wasn’t actually supposed to go. Mom and two of my sisters had tickets to the show in May of 1987. They were heading in while my dad and I were supposed to go do something else together (I’m not sure what that was, but ice cream was probably involved). I think I had a look on my face that said something like, “Boy, I bet they’re going to have a lot of fun, and I think I would enjoy it, too,” because my dad promptly approached a scalper and bought two tickets for me and him. My mom and sisters had floor seats, while he and I sat in the front row of the balcony. It was magical and I’m grateful for my dad’s intuition. Fast forward to June 7, 2019, and my 7 year-old daughter and I are sitting in the front row of the balcony watching Cats at the Durham Performing Arts Center.

“I remember a time I knew what happiness was. Let the memory live again.”