Prokudin-Gorskii’s Color Photos of Russia, 1907-1915

 

Photos: Prokudin-Gorskii’s Color Photos of Russia, 1907-1915 | Newsweek International | Newsweek.com

I had no idea that color photography even existed over 100 years ago.  I’m always surprised to see any color photos from as early as the late 1930s.  The photos in the link above show a pre-Revolutionary Russia, and provide a fascinating glimpse into a time and place that has long since disappeared.  I’m assuming the vast majority of the architecture still exists.

The photos are so much richer than I would have expected to see. 

Beautiful.

I Love The Dead

Sorry to borrow a song title from Alice Cooper but, given the context of this post, I couldn't help myself.

For some reason, I've always been fascinated with history. Of course, history is generally what happened at a specific time to a place and its people, but it also includes how people died and where they were interred.

Because of this, I've always been fascinated with graveyards. I love walking through graveyards, viewing the grounds, reading the headstones or grave markers, trying to get a sense for what that person's history might have been like. It's impossible to encapsulate someone's history with a simple marker (surely more condensed that your standard 140-character Tweet), but sometimes you can find out a person's place in life based on the information provided there at the gravesite.

Mind you, I'm ALWAYS out of the cemeteries well before dark, but daytime viewing is not a problem.

Among the many cemeteries I've been to, some that stand out are those I've visited in Portovenere, Italy; Oxford and London, England; Marblehead, MA; and Vicksburg, MS, to name a few.

It's interesting to see the cultural and historical differences between the various cemeteries. Reading the headstones can indicate what might have been happening in that area during the time the person passed. War, disease, weather. It's all there.

The two most beautiful cemeteries I've been to are those in Marblehead, MA and Portovenere, Italy. Both overlooked the water, whose views have probably provided a calming influence to those visiting the grounds over the many centuries funeral services have been conducted there.

The cemetery in Marblehead contained the remains of numerous Revolutionary War dead (including a black soldier, which I thought VERY progressive for that time in history), and the remains of a woman who was born in 1620, the year the pilgrims landed. The headstones are carved in slate and have lost little, if any, of their original detail. They are as easy to read as they day they were carved. I've visited a cemetery in the mid-West in the early 90s, and I couldn't make out a single word on many of the headstones there. It's a shame that these folk's names, many including Civil War soldiers, are lost to time and weather.

This leads to the next link/article that details additional details of Michael Jackson's final resting place, Forest Lawn Glendale, in Southern California. I'll include the link, and will post the full article in the event the link is broken at some point in the future (nothing lasts forever).

I found the history of the creation of Forest Lawn particularly fascinating.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32648572/ns/entertainment-music/?gt1=43001

updated 2:54 p.m. PT, Tues., Sept . 1, 2009

GLENDALE, Calif. - Michael Jackson’s life played out on a world stage, headlines screaming his every move, frenzy following his footsteps.

His death, memorial and investigation amplified the delirium and prolonged the anguish of family and fans. On Thursday, he is scheduled to be interred at Forest Lawn Glendale in what will be a hidden monument in a mausoleum made of marble and mortar.

There will be only silence. No marquees, no spotlights, no paparazzi.

He will be enveloped by the grandeur of the grounds, the majesty of the buildings and the significance of history.

In the Great Mausoleum, he will join Hollywood legends of yesterday like Clark Gable, Jean Harlow, W.C. Fields and Red Skelton, as well as “The Last Supper Window,” a lifesize stained glass recreation of Leonardo da Vinci’s masterpiece, and Moses, a reproduction of Michelangelo’s sculpture for the tomb of Pope Julius II in Rome.

On a hilltop nearby, in a building the size of a sports arena, hang two of the world’s largest paintings, “The Crucifixion” and “Resurrection.”

Like so many of the people in it, the park has also become fabled. Founded in 1906 by a group of businessmen on 55 hillside acres in the town of Tropico (later Glendale), there was no forest and no lawn, just a traditional dusty graveyard with granite tombstones and elaborate messages.

By the time Hubert Eaton arrived in 1912 at the age of 31, according to Forest Lawn literature, he had graduated from college in Missouri, punched cattle in Montana and lost a small fortune on a silver mine in Nevada. He took the job as sales manager at the cemetery so he could repay his mine backers.

He convinced people to buy plots before they died. After just a year, he had increased sales 250 percent. After three years, his sales had multiplied so much, he was able to buy a stake in the company and was named general manager.

Despite resistance from his board of directors, monument makers, the community and customers, Eaton eliminated tombstones so grass could be planted and lawns mowed; he renounced the name “cemetery,” changing it to “memorial park”; he started collecting world-class art or detailed reproductions; and he added mausoleums, acres, trees, florist, gift shop and chapels that are used for funerals and weddings.

In 1933, Eaton was the first to combine a mortuary with a cemetery, overcoming opposition from morticians, casket makers, and the state. Today, the Glendale park covers 300 acres and employs 150 people.

The park was divided into sections like Slumberland, Babyland, Graceland and Inspiration Slope. You can find places for immortality, affection, tranquility, mercy, harmony, fidelity and devotion.

A patriotic theme was incorporated in the early 1950s with the Court of Freedom, the Freedom Mausoleum and sections with names like liberty and victory.

For decades, Forest Lawn, like so many other cemeteries, had a whites-only policy, but park spokesman William Martin said he didn’t know what year that ended.

‘Elegance and good taste’
The number of Forest Lawn locations has grown to 10 — Hollywood Hills, Glendale and Covina Hills are the three largest.

“They have a reputation for excellence. They are highly respected in every regard. They take excellent care of their facilities. They handle a high volume of families. Most of their employees are long-term and dedicated to their work. Those things say a lot about a company,” said Ron Hast, executive editor and publisher of the Northern California-based Mortuary Management with Funeral Monitor, who was one of Marilyn Monroe’s pallbearers in services in 1962 at Hollywood Forever Cemetery.

Martin, who has been communications manager at Forest Lawn Glendale for nearly four years, dodges most questions, including names of famous inhabitants, how many people are interred there or how much room is left. He is even tighter lipped about Jackson.

When asked if there had been increased interest in Forest Lawn since the Jackson family announced its plans, he said, “The public interest has been raised. That’s putting it mildly.”

Hast operated a transportation backup service for Forest Lawn for 25 years. He doesn’t know exactly how many people are there, but it is “tens of thousands.” The celebrity list is long and includes George Burns, Gracie Allen, Walt Disney and Nat King Cole, he said.

Hast said the park is a good fit for Jackson, because they are experts at handling celebrity security “and they will do it with elegance and good taste.”

Scott Michaels, owner of Dearly Departed Tours in Los Angeles, believes Forest Lawn Glendale has a double standard when it comes to celebrities. “They protect their celebrities vehemently, but they brag about them,” he said.

“Not too long ago, they had an exhibit in their museum about celebrities buried in their cemetery,” Michaels said. “These people wanted to be famous when they were alive. Fame didn’t end with their deaths. We still watch their movies. It’s frustrating for some not to be able to pay their respects.”

Martin acknowledged there was a time when Forest Lawn boasted about its celebrity crowd, but no more.

“We don’t advertise, we don’t market it,” he said. “It is just inappropriate.”

Over 70,000 people have been married at Forest Lawn parks. Ronald Reagan and Jane Wyman and Regis Philbin and his wife Joy were married at Wee Kirk o’ the Heather church at Glendale.

Privacy for the family
Cemetery Web sites and blogs have been buzzing since Jackson’s family announced the Forest Lawn plan. Hits to Lisa Burk’s blog at www.gravehunting.com have gone through the roof, she said. Interest in him “blows everything else out of the water because he was so internationally known.”

She said if the Jackson family wants privacy, they will get it at the mausoleum. “It’s impossible to get in there. It was before and it will be worse now.”

Even though visitors see a portion of the mausoleum when they go see the Last Supper show — a 10-minute presentation about the stained glass window, put on regularly 365 days a year — most of the multistory building is restricted. It is well monitored and some areas are only accessible with pass keys, Hast said.

Author Mark Masek went to Forest Lawn in mid-August to take photos of the mausoleum for his Web site on celebrity graves, www.cemeteryguide.com.

Two black vans blocked his exit from the grounds, Masek said, and a pair of security guards stood by while he deleted all the photos he had taken. “I fully cooperated and did everything they asked me to,” he said.

In his book “Hollywood Remains to be Seen,” a look at 14 area cemeteries, “I had pictures for every cemetery except the two Forest Lawns,” he said, “because they prohibit commercial photography.”

Finding celebrities and their markers or monuments at Forest Lawn Glendale has kept a lot of people busy over the years. Cybermaps abound with detailed lists, directions and photos. Dozens of books have been published guiding the starstruck to dead stars.

That won’t change. In fact, it would seem Jackson’s presence at Forest Lawn will provide new challenges for everyone involved.

Beer and Brats. What could be better?

With more than a little time to kill, Miguel suggested we head out to Leavenworth for a brat and beer bacchanal.  Sounds good to me.

I drove to Miguel's house last Friday, and we headed out at 9 am.  First stop: Mickey D's for a little breakfast.  I rarely, rarely, rarely go there (I think it's the one of the worst of the big fast food places, 2nd only to Dairy Queen), but I do like the occasional Egg McMufffin or Filet o' Fish.  Bags of garbage delivered, we hit the road and ate as we drove. 

I've only been on Highway 2 during a non-snow season 3 times before, and each time I head out there, I'm always amazed at how beautiful it is.  River and mountain scenes, small towns barely clinging to existence, and depending on the time of year, leaves turning color before dropping to the ground. 

We pulled into town and got parked at 11:30.  Let's get this party started...  Let's eat!  The first place we found that could satisfy our beer/brat urges was a place called Munchen Haus.  I ordered Helga's Giant Kelbassi (1/3 pound, Polish, Beef & Pork).  It came with a small order of German Potato (What would Dan Quayle do here?) salad.  I was given one of those funny little vibrating coasters and was told it would let me know when my order was ready.  To order a beer, I was instructed to walk around the corner, into the patio, and order from the bartender there.  Doing as I was instructed, I walked into the patio and ordered a fantastic beer from Hirschbrau.  I don't remember what it was I ordered, but it was quite tasty.

When I was alerted to the fact that my dog was ready, I walked over and picked it up.  It was huge, and looked grilled to perfection.  The beauty part in all this was that they had the biggest selection of mustards I've ever seen.  If you know anything about me, you know I love my condiments!  They all sounded so good, but there are only so many condiments you can put on a dog before it overwhelms the link.  I went with three different flavors, one one each side of the bun, and one stripe down the middle.  I sprinkled some onions over the top of the entire dog, layered on some sweet relish, a quick squirt of ketchup, and a nice healthy layering of sauerkraut!  Now THAT'S a dog!  It was, in a word, fantastic.  Through the various layers, I could taste the individual mustard flavors, and found them to be some of the best mustards I've had.  The beer was equally good.  I don't remember what we paid for this meal, but it was money well spent.

After stuffing ourselves, we walked around the town.  Lots and lots of places to shop or eat, but not much else.  I guess in a small town that has made itself into a bit of Bavaria, it's not surprising that most businesses are geared completely around tourism.  We walked to the end of town and looked down into the valley were a small river flows past town.  We could see people in the park down below us, and people wading in the river.  With the mountains as a backdrop, the entire scene was idyllic.

OK, enough of that crap, let's get back to the eating and beer drinking.  Where to go, where to go...

Ah, let's head on up to the Italian place for a beer.  It seemed the entire building we found ourselves walking toward was geared mainly to the Italian side of things.  We walked into a meat shop that closely resembled some of the shops we saw while we were in Italy in 2003.  We left the meat shop and headed up the stairs to the Italian restaurant.  Nobody there.  Strange, but it was a little off the beaten path.  Plus, who goes to eat Italian food in a German town?  We got seated at the bar, and ordered a couple beers.  Nothing out of the ordinary, but they were good and cold.  Feeling a bit bloated, we passed on appetizers, and eventually got our bill, paid, and departed for parts unknown. 

Back out into the 92 degree heat.  It was definitely warm, but not miserably so, and the winds kept things comfortable.  We walked to the main square (if you can call it that), where artists of various flavors displayed their work (mostly photography).  We cruised through some of the stores that caught our interest, but nothing compelled either of us to buy anything.  This went on for a while before we decided to get more beer and possibly a bite to eat, though neither of us was hungry.

Are next haunt was a restaurant that is located in the basement of one of the buildings on the main drag, Andreas Keller Restaurant.  Upon entering, we stood and waited to be seated.  And waited.  And waited.  And waited.  We could see 3 other parties seated in a space that could hold quite a few folks.  There were a LOT of empty tables.  The waiter looked at us (the waitees), and indicated that he'd be with us shortly.  Define "shortly".  Finally, he gathered us and seated us in a booth, handed us a couple menus, and disappeared.  We peeled the menus and were appalled at the prices.  I can see slightly higher prices in a tourist town, but these prices were ridiculous.  Given that we weren't all that hungry, it came down to ordering smallish portions, so as not to damage our innards or our wallets.  I decided on the Red Cabbage, Miguel ordered the German Spatzle with mushroom sauce, with each of us selecting a beer worthy of our sophisticated palates.  And then we waited.  And waited.  And waited.  Finally, a staff member came by with some plates, forks, and a tub of what appeared to be stone-ground mustard.  OK, that's all well and good, but what if we didn't order anything that required the mustard.  Do they through it away, or do they take it back to the kitchen and scoop it back into the big mustard bucket?  And then we waited some more.  I told Mike we should leave, which he was willing to do, but I said let's give them 2 more minutes.  4 minutes later, we decided to beat feet and Mike stood up to go, when the waiter started heading in our direction.  Damn!  Now we were stuck.  We should have just told him we were leaving, but we stayed.  He took our order and, suprisingly, it wasn't too long before we had our beer and "food".  My red cabbage was a pile of mush.  I've had pleny of red cabbage in my day (and I love it), but it's never been mushy.  This slop was barely a step above baby food in terms of its consistency.  I didn't expect a huge portion (and in this I was not disappointed), but for $4, it was severely over priced (even if it had been properly cooked).  Miquel's portion of spatzle was no larger than my red goo, and to charge $5 for noodles and an extra $2 for mushroom sauce, was beyond the pale.  This is the kind of restaurant that can screw their customers over because they are likely first-time (and last-time) suckers.  Tourists from far away places will likely never make it back to town, and any tourist that does make a return visit to Leavenworth, would likely never come back to this pathetic excuse for a restaurant.  When the waiter finally returned with our bill, he circled our table 3 times within a 5-minute period, presumably to make sure we weren't skip out on paying the tab.  It was this final treatment that fried my ham.  Oh, and as it turned out, we didn't order anything that required the mustard they brought out to us.  What do you think they did with it?

Cut loose onto the streets of Leavenworth once more, we continued to walk up and down the streets, occasionally stopping into any store that looked interesting.  Once in a while we'd see a dog that would seem nice to meet, so we'd strike up a conversation with the owners and get to meet some cool pooches.  As we walked past one store, I looked in to see custom pancacke griddles.  One had snowflakes embossed in them (all the same design snowflake), so that wasn't too interesting.  Right next to it, there was a pancake griddle that had the heads of 7 different zoo animals.  Knowing that the wife likes pancakes, and we'd soon have a boy to make them for, I had to have it.   For $32, I thought it might be a little more expensive than what I might pay if I were to order it directly from the manufacturer, but I wanted to bring it home with for the wife.  (I did check the price when I got home, and I would have paid $35 for the pan, plus whatever shipping charges I might have incurred.  Shockingly, I got a better deal in the tourist village).

If you've been to Leavenworth for more than 4 or 5 hours, things start to seem a bit repetitious.  With the day winding down, we decided to grab one final beer before heading out. 

We headed back to the place where we started our day.  We skipped right past the hot dog spot, and walked up to the bartender.  I asked the gal behind the counter if they had beer XYZ and she said she didn't think they did.  One of the employees went to check to see if they had any kegs in the back, and when he returned, he reported that they had, in fact, run out.  Oh, well.  I ordered another beer (not nearly as tasty), and after consuming our pints, we got back on the road. 

All-in-all, it was a great afternoon, with only the one unpleasant experience at the Andreas Keller Restaurant. 

The traffic was light, and we got back to Miguel's house around 8:30.  After saying our good-byes, I pointed the wagon in the direction of home and pulled up to the house at exactly 9 pm.  It was a long day, and I was beat.

Oh, and the wife loved the pancake pan.

Places to Visit

The latest The Territory Ahead catalog came in the other day. On the cover, bathed in a warm, yellow light, is the most amazing picture of the Acropolis I've seen.

I Google'd to find some more pictures and to get more information about the Acropolis and, according to one caption, the cover photo shows some of the Caryatid statues at Erechteion.

There is another picture within the catalog that shows some of the most ornately carved columns, and I love looking at pictures of ancient architecture. I'm always amazed at how advanced the "ancient" cultures were.

Anyway, that got me to thinking of all the places I want to visit before my toes are found pointing up that final time.

Let's make a list and knock off as many of them as possible, shall we? This list is in no particular order, and will be appended to as time permits and as I discover potential points of interest.

• New Zealand
• Greece
• Spain
• Thailand
• Australia
• Cambodia (Ankor Wat)
• Mexico (Yucatan)