Cherry memories

I am told this weekend is the peak of the cherry trees blooming in Seattle, I wish I was there!

My first memory of the tree blossoming season in Seattle was 1993. We arrived March 22 and our first Seattle home was actually over at Eastside. The cherry tree blooms covered the ground for Trouble & Trouble 4 and 6 years old to play with outside our townhouse in Juanita, Kirkland. We had left the white spring-winter in Sweden for the great adventure, and the cherry trees were snowing!

For me, one of my most exotic Seattle memories is from spring 1997 when we had our home for the year at Portage Bay. Packing our downhill ski equipment on and in our 1981 silver Buick while the cherry trees in the alley told Swedes it was summer. Driving the one hour trip up to the Snoqualmie ski area. Met by tons of snow and great skiing. In the late afternoon heading back to Seattle welcomed by summer. I can still feel the fascinating magic of it.

To Seattleites that’s all spring. But to a Swede from the northern parts of the country it’s summer and winter in a wonderful and amazing package. 2 for the price of 1! I remember Trouble 2 (now 9) having a burger in the sun at one of the ski drive in restaurant porches announcing: this is life!

During my commuting years following I loved packing my bags here at the end of the road this time of year, crossing the ocean, landing in Seattle. Filling my lungs with the fresh sent of moist red cedar and my eyes with the white and pink color from the cherries blooming all over town. Still now, I can sense my body and mind expanding from joy of once again arriving in my second home so different from my first; Away is Home, Home is Away. Just wanting to stay there forever.

I celebrated my 45th birthday on one of those visits. It wasn’t a happy birthday, at least to start with. I was separated going for divorce. I felt old. I had a future in mind which I knew wouldn’t happen. But I had a new semi professional video camera!

I woke up in the morning feeling heavy and sad about my whole situation. But I made a conscious decision to pick myself up. And I started playing with my camera. As soon as I looked through the view finder my heart went pounding. I put the gear in my car and headed towards Seattle from Lynnwood where I stayed at my friend/sister Autumn’s. 

I still remember the footage I shot at the marina east of Gasworks Park. Lying on the docks composing the pictures with houseboats, water and blooming cherry treas. I felt a lot better!

Continuing to Seattle Center. The sun was out, and the colors and shapes of Frank Gehry’s Experience Music Project making me go on for hours, and yeah, catching the Monorail through it!

I remember someone calling me on my way to the parking lot, might it have been Craig? By now I felt so good about the day I told him it was my birthday. Like I had to share it with someone. And of course he congratulated me and I have this image of cherry trees surrounding me, is there even cherry trees at the Seattle Center parking lot?

In the evening my friends all gathered in a Madrona pub for me. It feels surreal now but they were all there: Matt and Elisabeth and daughter Becca, Terry and Doug and kids Reed and Zoe, Maria and little Niko, Annie and Harold, and of course my aunt Helen. My sister Autumn didn’t show though, she basically stood me up!

I was pretty darned disappointed and mad at her as I drew back to her house. Hours later she walked in. Well, the thing was, she had been delayed at work. Which I think had turned to a bar or pub thing. Because there was this new guy… and he was trouble…

I actually got to meet this new guy (shall we call him Trouble 3?) some days later. I frankly didn’t think that wold last. I was vey wrong. She stood me up for the Man in Her Life which she met on March 14, my 45th birthday, meanwhile the cherry trees were blooming on all of us.

A tulip remembrance

- Today I have realized how blessed these 26 years have been, for I have never felt this kind of latent and expanding fear before.

It’s my young friend Corina in Paris, posting her anxiety on Facebook.

I was at the end of it. My friend Jeff at the start. Only, we didn’t know about each other both joining, until we met up at our friends Terry and Doug later for dinner. And in the evening all of us watching a documentary short series in a typical Seattle basement fringe theatre. Being a part of something bigger. The collective grieving.

I am recalling this, following the horrifying and tragic situation in Paris this week. I was in Sweden when 9/11 changed the world forever. I know exactly where and when I was hit by the news, as I remember where I was brought the message of the assassination of Swedish Prime Minister Olof Palme, Secretary of State Anna Lind, and of course JFK.

September 2002 I was in Seattle for the opening of my photo show Away is Home, Home is Away at the Nordic Heritage Museum. And September 11 was the one year remembrance of the Twin Towers collapsing before the eyes of the world.

It was a beautiful day. There was going to be a silent march starting at Westlake Center in downtown Seattle, ending at Seattle Center. When 9/11 happened, I felt so far away. Far away from my American city and far away from my American friends. So, I was grateful to be in Seattle on the one year day. I was given the chance to be a part of the tragic event, in remembrance.

I drove down to Seattle Center and was stunned by the sight. The big and beautiful International Fountain was surrounded, almost covered in flowers. All the people walking together from Westlake Center arrived in silence. Governor Gary Locke gave a speech. And there were bag pipes. It was all very dignified. And although the bag pipes, quiet.

It was intense, in a good way. I learned that a year ago, this was where people came together, an impromptu act. Seattle Center, which was built for the Worlds Fair in 1962, is the natural place for all kind of gatherings, and apparently also in distress. When the two planes crashed in to the heart of the U.S, the International Fountain with it’s soothing shape and form pulled Seattleites to the sound of the water, finding comfort in each other. And there were flowers. Drifts of flowers around the fountain. Flowers that were later transported away to become compost where tulips were planted. 

The experience was very emotional to me. I was overwhelmed and grateful. But a bit sad that I was alone there, in the midst of everyone. Afterwards I drove over to Terry and Doug’s. Jeff parked as I pulled over. And told med he had been at the start of the march at Westlake Center.  It turned out I hadn’t been alone after all. It felt good.

I have heard the New Yorkers felt alone in the world when 9/11 happened, like not even their fellow countrymen were there for them. I know Americans suddenly felt America was an island nobody cared for. That’s how lonely you can feel when cold fear eats your bone. When you feel no one have any sense of what you are going through.

More than 13 years have passed since 9/11. More people than we could ever imagine at that time, have lost their lives, loved ones, trust and faith to the world as a good and safe place to live, in terror actions throughout this planet of ours. But I’d like to think contemporary possibilities for communication and interaction brings us a little bit closer to each other. When cold fear eats your bones and no one is holding you, you are alone, you are. But a hug over the internet is better than no hug. A little pink heart can make yours pound a bit longer. And what can a tulip do?

The tulips planted in the compost out of the 9/11 flowers at the International Fountain in Seattle, had bulbs. And those bulbs were given to us who were there in quiet remembrance on the one year day. A beautiful sunny September day. I brought mine to Sweden and planted in my flowerbed. No, they didn’t survive the Umeå winter. But I am sure a lot of those bulbs handed out that day, did.

- Today I have realized how blessed these 26 years have been, for I have never felt this kind of latent and expanding fear before.

It’s my young friend Corina in Paris, posting her anxiety on Facebook. I responded to her: Corina, I am so sorry for the world and for you.

And Corina, I want to give you a tulip bulb. Imagine it, and plant it in your heart. And in every heart you meet. I know you will. And those bulbs will make it through any winter.

And beyond 2014?

I sometimes wonder if there will be a 2015. For close to a decade now the focus here in Umeå has been set on 2014. First it was a fantasy, then a vision, then an application, then The Win, and after that years of planning for taking on the incredible and challenging assignment being The European Capital of Culture 2014.

It is incredible indeed. Every year, within the European Union, cities are carefully chosen to be the Capital of Culture. To start with it was one city (1985, Athens) 1999-2000, at the Millennium there were multiple cities, and after that mostly two a year. Sweden has carried the title once before, Stockholm 1998. 2014 Sweden was on the schedule for the second time, in pair with Latvia. And in competition with three bigger cities in Sweden, teeny-weeny Umeå way up north in our skinny country grabbed the title!

I once heard Fredrik Lindegren, artistic director of the year, bending his head, covering his face in his hands, saying: I wish it was 2016.

I can easily understand that. Putting together a cultural year by rank, all Europe watching, would make anyone sweat. Then organizing it.

The title has affected Umeå in major ways even though it hasn’t yet started. I think we are experiencing something along the lines of what happens in a place which is getting ready for The Olympics: gosh, this is going to be a big party, we have invited a ton of guests and we need to make room for them (nice rooms!) clean everything up and make our city a show case!

A bit like when you are having a party at your house; you suddenly have a deadline to change the towels in the bathroom and maybe you get to finally hanging that painting that’s been sitting on the floor leaning against the wall for months. And yeah, a new bulb over the front porch so they can find their way in!

The front porch in Umeå is what used to be the downtown port at the Umeå River many decades ago. Since then, it’s basically been a big parking lot. Not anymore though. The new building for cultural arts, Väven, has been under construction for a couple of years now. The Norwegian firm Snöhetta (the Alexandria Library, the Oslo opera house) is the architect and the exterior (the lower part of the building will be for the arts, the tall part a hotel) glass plates inspired by the black and white graphics of the birch stem. http://kulturvaven.se/#/start/trailer

Big changes always cause concerns among people, and this building creates a lot of change. First, it’s the building itself. Some perceive it as big and loud and out of proportion compared to the city center. It changes the skyline (we still have a very modest skyline though). Then it’s the content. The city library is going to move in to the building and this is making people very emotional. Its’ current location is optimal to many, and why change a winning team?

Cultural arts are also theater, dance, photo, music, film and crossovers from most anything you can think of, now spread all over town. Will they afford the rent in this new flashy city front porch?

During this fall it turned out that the City’s budget for the building only will cover the costs for running the place, there will be no money over for the different art scenes in the facility. This might sound like an incomprehensible problem to an American. But you see, in Sweden cultural arts are to some degree sponsored by the government, and we are relying on that subsidy for our operation. For example, my choir Kammarkören Sångkraft (Sångkraft Chamber Choir) is sponsored with 100 000 Skr (today about 15 000 dollars) a year by the City of Umeå. No strings attached. Yeah, it’s pretty amazing.

So, there is no wonder people are concerned about the future of the culture in the European Capital of Culture 2014. Also, the City has failed spectacularly when it comes to digging up private sponsors for the year, which leaves the question: what will happen 2015? Without a doubt 2014 has to deliver, so will there be any money at all left for the different art scenes in the future? And that’s how we are entering this big year of events. This New Year.

Hey, will there be a 2015 whatsoever? I feel a lot like I did before the Millennium. It was such an event. Nobody talked about an after in other terms than all the computers would be crashing and it might even be the end of the world for all that we knew. I was in Seattle (people over here were concerned; if something bad would happen, wouldn’t it be safer for me entering the Millennium here in the woods than in a big American city?) since I imagined that would be really cool.

Well, what happened? Some guy with explosives in his car was caught at the Canadian border heading south, and the big celebration at Seattle Center was cancelled for security reasons. Roomer had it that there was no money left after The Battle in Seattle. At 00.00 I was standing at a roof in Wallingford with family and friends watching a pretty lame fire works at the Space Needle, ousted by Bill Gates’ at the Gates residence on the other side of lake Washington. I would say it was an anti climax, and then the world continued with no fuzz.

2014. In only two days. Umeå European Capital of Culture. Will it be an anti climax? And will time go on beyond that like nothing happened? Will there be a 2015?