Sad news from St Jay:Vermont folk artist Stephen Huneck, whose paintings and woodcuts of dogs won him worldwide renown and inspired construction of a canine chapel at his St. Johnsbury studio, has died.
Huneck, 60, of St. Johnsbury, died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound Thursday.
Huneck was an artist who worked in several mediums: sculpture, furniture-making and printmaking. He is known for his bold and bright woodcuts, in particular artwork of dogs.
His Labrador retreiver, Sally, became something of a household name in certain quarters — black-lab quarters — with the 1997 publication of his book, “My Dog’s Brain.”
Huneck’s interest in and love for dogs led to the creation in St. Johnsbury of Dog Mountain, which has a gallery featuring Huneck’s work and the Dog Chapel. The chapel, designed by Huneck, celebrates the bond between people and dogs. The chapel is open to visitors, many of whom come to honor dogs they’ve lost.
Huneck was seriously ill with a respiratory ailment before the publication of his book about Sally. The making of the book was an act of rehabilitation, both physical and spiritual, according to a 1997 Free Press article.
In the introduction to the book, Huneck wrote: “I remember vividly working on that first print. It is called ‘Life is a Ball,’ and it is.”
Ericka and I took Mex and Kayla up to the Chapel in 2008. Looks like we need to make a pilgrimage with Sam (who has 3 Huneck pieces hanging in his room) and the whole Pack sometime soon to pay respects...
ntodd
Long time since our last trip, and this was our first with Sits In Utero weighing Baby Momma down.
Haha, we're going for arideinthecar and you're not!
3 dogz? Not so bad to control in general, 'cept for when trying to get them to settle for a picture.
On our way to the Fortress this morning we decided to detour a bit north to Derby (history, demographics):
It was not until 1788 that Derby was actually chartered, the document back-dated to when the grant was made by the Legislature to Timothy Andrews (sometimes Andrus in early records) and 59 others.
Himself a carpenter by trade and a land speculator on a big scale in both Vermont and Connecticut, Andrews came from a prominent Connecticut family which produced a number of clergymen, educators and statesmen. He was involved in the charters for a half-dozen towns near the Canadian border, including East Haven, which was named for his home in Connecticut. He died in Vermont 1789, never having taken any advantage from his Vermont holdings.
Some of the earliest proprietors' meetings took place in Derby, Connecticut, so it is quite certain that town provided the name for the new Vermont venture. In turn, Derbyshire, England provided the name for the Connecticut town. An authority on English place-names says Derby originally meant "homestead frequented by wild animals."
Neat, eh?
The Haskell Opera House. The audience sits in the US and watches a performance in Canada.
Lady parked her truck behind us in the Canadarian territory, asked us something in French (we gave Gallic shrugs) and walked across the border into the building with her little girl (presumably for story hour).
Neppy apologizes for any international ill will: he crapped on Canada.
ntodd
PS--New official blog pic coming...
This is Ericka's last visit as a barbarian from the hinterlands--next 251 Club trip she'll be a resident of Vermont (though, like me, she'll always be a flatlander according to Vermont natives)!
Just before heading out, a flock of Canada geese came over to the pond for a flyby.
I'm stretching the concept of The Trip Singularity a bit since today's post is about 2 towns on 2 separate days, but this is the inaugural 251 Club event with Ericka (sans Neptune this one time) and it's during one of her visits from PDX, so what the hell.
We visited Marshfield yesterday and had a little difficulty getting the Dogz back in the 251 groove what with the excitement of meeting Olive, our Guest Star.
Finally, a day with normal temps in the 70s instead of the 90s, with blue sky rather than haze. Perfect for a 251 Club trip.
I'll be dropping the Dogz off at The Resort on Wednesday morning, so it seemed like the surrounding town was a good choice to explore today.
My god, we were spittin' distance from The Socialist Republic of Canadaria! Somehow we survived Highgate despite the looming threat of universal healthcare (history, demographics):
A totally fanciful story about the town's name says there was once a toll road closed by a very high gate, and that people began saying they were "going to High Gate" when traveling to the area. Not even acceptable as folklore, for the area had no roads at all when Benning Wentworth named the town.
Wentworth probably had the well-known London suburb of Highgate in mind. That area did take its name from an old gatehouse which had been an important part of London's defenses, but dismantled by Wentworth's time. There are but two other Highgates in the world, both known to have been named for the London suburb: Ontario, Canada and St. Mary's Parish, Jamaica.
John Godrey Saxe was born here: lawyer, educator, newspaper editor, state's attorney, collector of customs, gubernatorial candidate, lecturer. It was, however, as a poet that he gained his greatest fame. His poems are still included in anthologies of American verse, and his story "Four Blind Men and an Elephant", the classic treatise on differing viewpoints, is one of the most successful children's picture books.
On the outskirts of town, this bridge over the Missisquoi by the Swanton Generating Station caught my eye.
I like dams. Never been close enough to a spillway to see that the apron controlling flow over the dam was canvas-reinforced rubber.
You gotta fight! For your right! To parrrrrr...SHIT, THE COPS!
C'mon, everybody back on the bus!
Gulls hang out on the roof of the Highgate Sports Arena.
Another exciting adventure comes to an end...
ntodd
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