Music, Food and Art

Music - Food - Art #4

Redemption and the Wheel of Doom

by Cork Marcheschi, for Fine Art Registry®

My daughter loves me to tell her stories about my child hood. This has given me the opportunity to revisit a magical time. I was a kid in the late forties and fifties. Even though most of my friends' parents were immigrants they had been in the country long enough to know the "Dead End Kids" and "Our Gang Comedies." The gift of this is that all of us growing up at that time had a collective set of expectations shared with our parents. Our parents saw these little gems at the movie theaters and we saw them as early fodder for TV. These kids and their high jinks helped create a collective consciousness of what kids could be doing and it was very cool.

Lily's favorite story is "the big tire."

I must have been about 9 or 10 years old; all of the kids on the surrounding blocks seemed to be within one year of each other. On one summer day Nicky Pandel, Mike Napoti, Dario Benedetti, Jimmy Ray, Paul Jensen, Frankie Zona and I all decided to ride our bikes over to Coyote Point. Coyote Point was a gravel beach on SF Bay that met a small eucalyptus forest. We would ride our bikes the 10 minutes over highway 101 to play on the bluffs or the beach. On this particular day we made a great discovery: mired in the gravel and mud was a huge discarded tractor tire. What a find! We pushed, pulled, dug but it was stuck. Jimmy found a 2 x 4 that we used as a pry bar to extricate this object of potential joy. Fwonk! was the sound of the large tire being released from its comfortable resting place. We screamed and hollered with little girl joy as we admired our hard earned treasure. We hit the 5 foot tall tire with the 2 x 4 and got most of the crud out of it and then started rolling it up a little bluff and letting it roll back down. After about an hour of this Mike got the idea that we could get into the tire and roll off another one of the bluffs that would give us a bit more speed. We all agreed to go for it, as long as he did it first. It must have looked like Sisyphus's nephews pushing the funky tractor tire up the bluff. But unlike Sisyphus we were going to push the tire up the bluff and ride the sucker down for fun (Camus would have had a better time hanging out with us). We found an ideal cliff off a little bluff - it was maybe a 15 foot drop from the bluff to the gravel beach and then 40 feet or so to the bay. Mike got in the tire and we slowly pushed him over and wow what a great ride - he smoothly rolled down the first part of the slope and then went over a little bump and glided on down the rest of the grade. When the tire hit the gravel beach, it rolled about 15 feet and then did one of those lazy spins like a coin that has been spun on a formica-top table and is about to make its last revolution. Mike hopped out of the tire and screamed, "Wow! What a great ride! You gotta do it!"

So one by one each of us got in and rode the tractor tire of doom. The last person to ride was Frankie. Everybody had one kid in his or her group that was a crybaby and Frankie was ours. Frankie was smaller than everybody else and a bit timid; he wanted to try it but was kinda scared. We all convinced him that nothing could happen; he saw all of the rest of us roll down and squeal. Finally, Frankie got into the tire and we very slowly rolled him off the bluff. The first little part of the trip was textbook perfect until he hit the little bump. Maybe it was because Frankie was lighter than the rest of us or maybe it was the crybaby spirit at work. The bump that the rest of us had rolled over, launched Frankie about 18 inches in the air - not much but just enough to land him on a different part of the down slope - so when he rolled onto the beach, he didn't stop - oh shit! OH SHIT!

We silently watched as the tire rolled the 40 or so feet and went straight into the bay. As you read this, please travel back to your 9-year old mind and attempt to capture the horror. The tire rolled about 10 feet into the water and dropped over. Frankie started to scream like a banshee - I never knew what a banshee was until that moment. He was too scared to get out of the tire so he stayed curled up in there and screaming. The grade was too steep for us to run down the bluff so we had to run around the point and come out on the beach, maybe a 90 second trip. Frankie never stopped screaming. The fact is, he was in about 18 inches of water resting on a gravel bottom. We all ran out into the bay and tried to get him out of the tire. Frankie was too panicked to notice we were standing in less than knee high water. Finally - he ran outa steam and we walked him to the beach. The tire of doom lay abandoned in its shallow grave. Once the drama had subsided and Frankie was breathing normally again, the second wave of terror struck. One of the unwritten rules was you do not come home soaking wet! We all were pretty darned wet.

Dario had the brilliant plan that we should hang out at the apex of the highway 101 over pass (it has a sidewalk) and let the sun and wind dry us off. Great idea! We rode our bikes up there and attempted different strategies to hasten natural air current clothes drying. This was really boring, until Mike came up with a game. We all lined up at the overpass rail and took a lane of traffic, the object of the game was to try and spit into a convertible. I don't think we ever figured out the variables but we sure had a good time spitting at the cars.

When I arrived home that evening I went through the garage and entered into my Nonna's (grandmother's) kitchen. We lived in a duplex, my parents in the north unit and my grandparents in the south. The garage door was always open and the kitchen was always the entrance. I had just completed another ideal day of being a kid with my kid friends doing kid things that our parents understood as the things you do as a kid. Feeling satisfied that we had all conquered the tractor tire of doom - got wet, nobody knew and spat on cars, all together a good day!

I stepped into the kitchen and the smell was of what liquid gold smells like. It was the embrace of all things good in a fearless world. I had returned from a dangerous adventure and was now safer than I would ever be, protected by the cloak of Nonna's pineapple upside down cake. A miracle in a frying pan. The aroma of this cake will melt the heart of a banker and create horror in a person who fears real food.

So let us make a pineapple upside down cake that will raise spirits and that says "I am not afraid." Fear is the enemy and this cake will help break the bonds of corporate-government and media fear.

Hey! You people out there, you know I can hear you back here - "what the hell is he talking about?" cakes - fear - grandmother - spirits? Yes I am serious. This cake is not from a box - it is from your pantry, your fridge and from you. It makes a difference.

You give it life - art doesn't exist without the artist and this cake will not exist without you. Don't be in a hurry, you really do have the time - someone has convinced many of us that we don't have the time, that we are too busy, and I counter - busy doing what? What percent of your "busy" is an investment into your life? Why do you need to escape on a vacation? How about living some good times now. What can happen? Be happy here.

*IMPORTANT NOTE* beware of the people that instantly have a paranoid list of what might happen. These people may be too far gone to ever have life happen to them. I am so sorry for these people. They have forgotten that we come into the world as purely intuitive creatures and little by little our natural intuition is removed from us with each new lesson we learn. From reading to manners, each skill deadens our primary natural tool for divination. We need magic!!! Art is magic!!!

Lets make magic.

Pineapple upside down cake

Topping:
1 cup of packed dark brown sugar
1/2 cup unsalted butter
6 or 7 slices of a fresh pineapple about 3/8 inch thick. Buy a pineapple about 4 days before you make the cake and let it hang around.

Cake ingredients:
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
6 Tbsp cake flour
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 3/4 cups of sugar
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter at room temperature - do not be afraid! Use the butter.
4 large eggs
3/4 teaspoon vanilla extract - the real stuff please.
3/4 cup sour cream - do not try to substitute yogurt.

Making the cake

Start by making the caramel topping. Take brown sugar and butter and combine and melt in a saucepan on medium heat until sugar melts and the mixture is bubbling, this should take a couple minutes. Pour mixture into a 10 inch diameter no stick cake pan - that has been sprayed with PAM - with no less than 2 inch high sides. Arrange pineapple slices in a single layer on top of the caramel mixture. Don't try to use a spring form pan as they usually leak the topping. If you do choose to use a cast iron frying pan, be sure it is seasoned well, has no major pits and give it a good coating of PAM. (Cast iron will give you the best carmelization but can also get stuck.)

Preheat oven to 325° F. Whisk the flours, baking powder and salt in a large mixing bowl. Use an electric mixer (in another bowl) to cream the sugar and butter together until light. Add eggs one at a time, beating after each addition. Beat in the vanilla. Add dry ingredients alternately with sour cream in two additions each, beating well after each addition. Pour cake batter over caramel and pineapple in pan.

Bake cake until tooth pick comes out clean, about 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes. Cool cake on a rack for about 10 minutes. Then flip cake out onto a platter. OH YA!!!

These ingredients give the cake an all-over good taste and feel. It isn't over sweet - the cake itself has a texture that is sumptuous and even. The topping will return you to a great memory when life was simpler.

A time before the word "play date" was invented. I hate that term and the lack of spontaneity it implies; another example of a natural activity being subjugated by reason-fear and moms with too much time on their hands.

I am interested in looking at what surrounds us and what we accept as reality. My perception is that fear is a major industry in America. It is also a powerful tool to control our social structure and belief systems. My friends! - The people to watch out for are the ones that know what is best for you! One misconception about fear and people who go forward trying new and unknown things is that they do not feel fear. This is incorrect! Fearless people have huge fear but it doesn't stop them from going - trying and being.

This pineapple upside down cake is an invitation for you not to be timid, indifferent, quiescent, uninformed or dispassionate. Care about something passionately.

If you are going to bother taking up space on the planet, MEAN IT!

Circle the wagons and on a sunny day, with window open to the world prepare yourself for the cake that breaks the bounds of fear mongers.

Music

Something that can match the joy and freedom of a childhood experience.

This cake is so powerful that I think you should be picking your own song that speaks to your place of freedom, childhood wonderment and magic.

I will give you my choice but this cake is too powerful to let anyone else pick a song for you, so this is your invitation to send in your choices of music and art to complete this MFA entry. Send your written contributions to , and in a couple of weeks we will print selected ideas.

Being that I have opened this up to you for your own musical choices, I will feel no responsibility to pick something that is broad. Some of the first music to come into mind was:

Tom Waits - I don't wanna grow up. Also done by Ricky Lee Jones. The Beatles, Here comes the sun.

And Hoyt Axton's, I love to sing.

My Baby Just Cares For me, sung by Nina Simone. I wasn't going to use this because I am writing about another one of her songs but ya know it feels right.

The song comes from a 1928 Broadway show called Whoopee! Nina recorded it on her 1958 debut album. Her rendition had little resemblance to the original. The song didn't attract much attention till 1988 when Chanel used it in a TV commercial and it became a hit 30 years after the fact. This song is ebullient. Like the magic cake it is an unpretentious expression of joy. The song is an expression of how grateful the singer is to have a friend - lover - pet - companion who cares for them in a big, honest way. The trio setting is piano, bass and a drummer using brushes. The piano player's left hand bounces of the keys, creating percussive melodic patterns that stroll through a field. The song is confident, simple and precise. Simone's husky voice expresses a gratitude of the highest magnitude. She is loved and knows it! Like the good things in life, surrendering is your ticket to enjoyment and understanding of Art - Love - Friendship and magic.

Let go and let the music and cake take you.

Art

Simon Rodia's The Watts Towers. Simon was an Italian immigrant living by the rail road tracks in Watts California. He had a pie shaped lot at the end of a dead end street. On the north side of the lot was a one-room bachelor’s shack. The yard space was about 2,500 sq. ft.

Starting in 1919, Simon began building a concrete, tile, bottle, seashell and china garden with three spires that reach 100 feet. He used hand tools and hand bendable metal for the structure. He worked on the garden for about 31 years, and two weeks after completing it, he gave the deed to his property to a neighbor and moved north to live with a relative, never to return to his work. Simon told people that he wanted to do something good for America like Galileo had done for Italy. When asked about the sculpture he would respond that he really didn't know what he was doing, but he was doing it.

In the late 1960's the abandoned towers were going to be torn down as a safety hazard. A group of LA artists alerted the LACMA and they interceded. It was decided with the city that a structural pull test would be done on the tallest tower and if it held, the towers would stay. With a large crowd of arts professionals, artists and locals the test was carried out on a sunny Saturday morning. A crane connected a cable to the top of the tower and then a strain gauge between the crane and tower. Slowly the pressure was applied and it survived the test! This handmade structure of wire, bed frame sections, car seat springs, mortar and broken crockery was saved. It is now a historical site and has an art center connected to it. For me, this is the best piece of primitive art in America. Nothing comes close to the complete vision and cohesive execution. Simon was in touch with something and it moved him and there was no off switch once the mojo had found him. He didn't sell or profit from it financially in any way. He gave it to all of us.

Make the cake and eat it as if it is an elixir that can awaken desire that is natural to the human animal. Eat the cake and listen to your desire. Listen to Hoyt Axton's audio honey voice and believe that he is happy.

My grandmother will smile upon you as you cut through the caramelized pineapples and into the beckoning body of the cake - welcome it - welcome all of it - do not say one word about calories, sugar or fat. If something’s gotta killya, go out with a smile on your face not strapped to a table with tubes going in and out.

Sit yourself down with a slice of Pineapple upside down cake. If you have a best friend who you can talk to about the real stuff, serve them a piece of cake too.

Then listen to Nina Simone and ask yourself if you can inspire someone with your ability to love.

Look at a picture of Simon Rodia's Watts towers and let this little Italian tile setter set the example for you to be open to the voice of inspiration and see how magical life can be when we allow ourselves to stop the chatter in our minds and listen to ourselves.

-Cork M

Read MFA #3: Melancholy

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