Watching over the remains of St. Raphael's

This curly-haired visage looks out over an entrance to the burned-out cathedral.

Saint Raphael's cathedral was gutted a little over a year ago after a hobo started a fire in the attic spaces.

Only the walls and the steeple remain standing on the 200 block of West Main Street.

The sky seen through the broken windows of the steeple tower still hold the power to surprise the passing walker.

An Impromtu Window Display

Mr Smoke takes a break in a pile of old cigar boxes in the front window of the tobacco shop in front of the Inn on the Square.

Walking to Work - Park Street

I had to walk to work from a medical appointment at the corner of Park and Regent Streets.

Going north up Park Street I passed under the railroad spur that the Wisconsin Southern Ry uses to bring coal to the university's physical plant.

Park Street dips into a cut under a modern iron-and-concrete viaduct that carries the spur over the road. The oddly-shaped multicolored concrete caught my eye as I went past.

Here's another view of the cut looking north:

There's something about lines of sight diminishing to a vanishing point that makes me point and click without thinking.

The construction in the background is a brace of brand-new dormatories, if I guess right, and I believe I've seen enough dormatories in my life to know one when I see one.

Walking to Work - Across Campus

A typical university dormatory - so typical that dormatories exactly like this one are found at campuses all across Wisconsin including my alma mater, UW-Eau Claire.

There was a pair of these towers at the top of The Hill on upper campus, imaginatively named The Towers. I had a room on the western side of the men's tower that, during the summer months, was like living inside a pottery kiln.

Which is why I was stunned to look up at this tower and see that these lucky bastards have air conditioners! I can see one window-mounted air conditioner for each room! I would have sucked sewer water for one of those!

I'll bet they have broadband cable, too. In my day we thought we were pretty lucky to have phones in the rooms. Rotary phones, with dials and bells.

I kept going up Park Street until I got to the library mall, a green and pleasant place anchored by the humanities building on this end and the university bookstore at the other.

State Street runs from the library mall to capital square, so I hung a right and started up the long hill toward work.

Walking to work - Along State Street

The shaded beer garden of this brat haus looks like a great place to spend a lunch hour.

I've been living here a year now and I've said that aloud to myself or a walking companion every time I pass by. Don't be alarmed; lots of people on the streets of Madison talk to themselves.

I think I may finally have to stop there this week. Photos to be posted on this site if and when I get around to keeping that date.

I don't remember seeing lady liberty standing there before, but she probably was. I've got a memory like a lumberyard; mixed piles of scrap with the piece I want on the bottom.




"Say it with me: The Exclusive Company!"

Back when I heard Mister Gianelli bark these words on the radio, he was advertising his shop in Oshkosh, where he sold top-notch stereo components and other electronic gadgets.

This store sells only music recordings, one of the few places you can buy in CD or vinyl format.

I came here when I was on the hunt for a new turntable, but nobody sells affordable turntables now, only custom-made jobbers that cost a small fortune. Talk about exclusive.

The neon's quite a nice touch, isn't it?



I used to buy clothes at the Ragstock store in Eau Claire; they had army surplus jackets from Germany and cargo pants back when it wasn't fashionable yet.

The store's been around so long now that even the mannequins have begun to look a bit long in the tooth.

When you're advertising retro by wedding it with an image of the undead, I've got to question your marketing technique, although I can't deny it's eye-catching.

Walking to Work - Capital Square

I call this the "top" of State Street because it's at the capital and the top of a long, gradual uphill haul.

Other people call the campus end of State Street the "top."

I don't know why. I'm staying with my "top" until somebody can give me a compelling reason to change.

The top of State Street is closed to vehicle traffic except city busses, as evidenced by the shelter at left. This block of State Street is one of the most quiet and pleasant for walking.

Mifflin Street, to the right, and Carroll Street, to the left, are not only closed to traffic, each street ends in a cul-de-sac at this corner, separated from the square by curb and gutter and a small pedestrian rest.

The home stretch to the bank is this two-block-long uphill climb along Carroll Street from Mifflin to Main beneath the shaded overhang of oak trees on the capital lawn planted who knows how long ago.

I was in a very mellow state of mind by the time I arrived. If only I could do this every day.

What I saw on my noon hour

The new office building on the corner of Main and Pinckney Streets has finally taken a definite shape.

I've asked a few people but haven't a clue yet what it's going to be.

I haven't decided whether or not I like it. When I saw the blocky structure begin to emerge during the winter months I thought I hated it, but now that it's been glazed I have to admit it's beginning to appeal to me, specially when I turned around today to take a photo of it and saw the capital dome reflected back at me.

The cut stone slabs, arranged apparently at random, also annoyed me at first blush but now they evoke a memory of Wisconsin sandstone, once very commonly used in many downtown buildings.

Maybe, just maybe this building belongs on capital square.

An arresting glint of sunlight made me turn to glance up at these curiously Jetson-ish chrome fins dressing up the corner of this otherwise ordinary apartment building off Gilman Street.

Among the mansions of Madison

As I walked up a narrow path from the shore of Lake Mendota I found this beautiful Italianate house elegantly dressed in Wisconsin sandstone. By any lights, the view alone from the rear veranda across the greensward sloping down to the lake was worth a million dollars. The house itself was a gem.

Who could be living here? An architect? An industrial designer? One of the great movers and shakers of Madisonian high society? I wandered around the front of the house to see if I could get a closer look.

A mass-produced sign out front advised me this was Knapp House, and another stock sign in the driveway advised that parking was for tenants only.

It's a flophouse for college students, another one of Madison's gorgeous mansions carved into flats and turned into Animal House.

If I had a million dollars ...

A beautifully turned-out turret at the top of the Gilman Street Rag Bed and Breakfast.

The house is looking a little rough around the edges; its steps are worn and the front door doesn't hang precisely square any more, but its colors are bright and inviting and the rooms appear to be well open to the air and sunlight.

40 Winks Come Hell or High Water

It takes more than a little confidence to continue to nap on the lawn after the sprinklers kick in.

Check Out These Nostrils!

I've got enough room in there to park every bus in the Madison Metro Transit System fleet! And hairy! Don't try to tell me I couldn't line the winter coats of all the kids in China!

Well. That's about enough of that nonsense.

B and I were at the Concert on the Square last night and I snapped this photo as the sun was setting. I could hardly keep my eyes open in the glare. That's right, I'm going to blame the goofy expression on the old excuse that 'the sun was in my eyes.' Why wouldn't that work?

That's a little better.

Not as good as the one I caught of B while we were lying on the blanket, listening to the concert, but this'll do.

Your Daily Dose of Mosaic

Butterflies at Olbrich Garden

Barb and I went to see the butterflies today. Madison's botanical gardens have an enclosed tropical greenhouse where every year at this time they release butterflies to fly free as part of a fund-raiser for the gardens.

The butterflies are shipped to the gardens as chrysalises, hatch in the greenhouse, and live for two to three weeks there.

I can't be sure, but I think this is a Queen butterfly. I took lots of photos of butterflies while we were there, but they look rather drab unless they were sitting in direct sunlight, as this one was.

Juxtaposition

The side of a semi-trailer parked close by a theater marquee caught my eye.

Forums of Origin is one of those works of public art that I'm sure makes a lot of people roll their eyes as they walk by, but I've always liked it. It's in the plaza next to the Children's Museum at the top of State Street. The supporting structure is a hemisphere of geodesic design with tiny figurines hung throughout.

The sculpture is mounted high enough that passers-by can walk underneat, stand and look up into it to see the details from many angles.

Shifty I?

I know I should not like grafitti - grafitti bad! Only vandals make grafitti!

But this was a rather artless concrete foundation before somebody added an eye-catching splash of color to it with a stencil and a spray can.

I've often found that grafitti can be at least as constructive as some public works of art can sometimes be destructive to the character of the neighborhood.

Popcorn and cigarettes! Yum!

These shiftless reprobates were snacking on leftovers outside the Silver Dollar Saloon on Mifflin Street during the noon hour.

I Never Had A Scooter

And with a price tag like that, I'm not surprised. This nifty keen-o scooter is for sale at Machinery Row Bicycles on Willy St.

Machinery Row's signature turret, on the corner where Williamson Street, John Nolan Drive, Wilson Street and Blair Street converge. The turret was once used by city police as a mortar nest, from which they bombarded traffic jams with six-inch shells to keep rush hour moving, a practice they ended when motorists began to return fire with scatter guns and Molotov cocktails. The craters in the streets have long since been filled in, but on a very humid day you can still catch a faint whiff of cordite in the air.

Back in reality, I have no idea why the building with the bike shop in it has a turret on the corner. I assume it was a machine shop way back when; it has the look of a heavy-duty building of commerce that's been refitted for more genteel pursuits.

What Is Art?

I can't pretend to answer that question in a way that would satisfy anybody.

I'm not even certain there was an artful way to combine a cow and shoes, but surely someone might've come closer than this.

What I found especially odd was that the same artist who slapped together this shoddy mess also pieced together the witty, captivatingly beautiful Pasture Bedtime.

Maybe it's a pointed commentary on the perils of corporate sponsorship? (This one was sponsored by Famous Footware.)

Blanketing the lawn at the capital, spectators mark their spots in antiticpation of tonight's performance of Concerts On The Square. If I'd known the performance would feature Some Enchanted Evening and On The Street Where You Live, I would have been right down there with them.

Haus Building

House or building? Or house-building? The flatiron at the corner of King and Wilson streets suffers a permanent identity crisis.

Martin Luther King Memorial, Madison

Next to the municipal building on Martin Luther King Boulevard.

Art Fair On The Square 2006, Madison

Moving in the customary counter-clockwise direction, the teeming masses wander from vendor to vendor looking at everything from fine works of art to, in the opinion of this writer, drek that isn't fit for a garage sale.

When we went to last years's art fair we saw all kinds of really cool works that we'd love to have, if only we'd had the discretionary income to be able to afford it. As we were both looking for jobs, we didn't. This year, we saw two, maybe three things we'd like to have. There was certainly as much variety as last year, but we saw a lot less of that special something.

And the expense! The one or two things we saw that we would have really liked to buy had truly exhorbitant price tags attached! I'm keenly aware that an artist's talent and his time are valuable, but just about all of these guys have plainly priced themselves far out of the market that includes little old middle-class me.

And the drek? One booth featured hundreds of airplanes and helicopters crudely fashioned out of empty soda cans hacked to shape with ginsu knives and pinned together with pop rivets. Prices started at eighteen bucks apiece. Call that art? Coz I don't. Guess that makes me snotty and pretentious.

Pasture Bedtime again

While we were on the square I had to show Tim the cow art called Pasture Bedtime, and snapped this side view.

Totem in a garden
Schenk-Atwood neighborhood, Madison

The totem itself isn't so unusual; what caught my eye was the golf ball in his hat. I've seen all kinds of offerings to the kami, up to and including soft drinks and sandwich cookies, but this is the first time I've seen evidence that the spirits are duffers.

The fountains at the corners where Washington Avenue is interrupted by capital square have finally been filled with water, plugged in and are ready to bathe every bird in town, and I wouldn't be surprised to find a homeless street person washing up over these basins now and again.

Various work men have been laboring to install the fountains for at least a year. Ground was broken and hairy-armed hardhats were pouring concrete footings when we first arrived in Madison a year ago this week. They spread visquine tarps over heavy frames to continue welding the framework through the winter, and they've been piecing together the marble and bolting down the bronze bowls ever since the first days of fair weather.

Water started running last week, but this is the first close look I got. Water gushes from bowls at either end of an arc and tumbles over the side to sheet down a low, curved marble wall. They're not especially attractive to the eye, but the sound is pleasing and the birds love to dance in the water.

Damn, you don't see a car like this in the parking lot every day. Or more often than once a year, if you're counting.

I'd be willing to bet this little monster can go from zero to sixty in about the same amount of time it takes you to read all the way to the full stop at the end of this sentence.

I've always had a great big thang for Mustangs, but for a long time I couldn't abide white ones on account of a near miss with one while I was out cruising with a friend. As we crossed a divided highway Mike thought he had plenty of time to squeek past the Mustang coming at us in the far lane, but he wasn't in the passenger seat looking straight at the guy driving the other car. I could see every wrinkle on his forehead, and as our eyes met we both very clearly communicated the same thought to each other in a single heartbeat: We're going to die. Then he flashed past us, Mike finished the turn and he never, ever admitted that we'd been in the slightest danger of collision for a moment.

I got over that scare years ago so I can ooohhh and ahhhh over every Mustang I see prowling the streets nowadays, each sighting an especially delightful treat because I don't see that many. And I mean real Mustangs, not those posers that Ford's been squirting out for the past five or ten years. This one's obviously been lovingly cared for and garaged whenever foul weather threatens. What a wondeful toy.

There's a Word For It ... Paradox? Conundrum?

In the Mansion Hill District of Madison, this gorgeous old pile of sandstone and timber anchors one corner of the same block as ...

... this boring, clunky metal and glass box. Uck.

And I don't want to even think about what they tore down to make way for this monstrosity.

Bethel Lutheran Church

Strolling along Wisconsin Avenue toward the Mansion Hill District I passed one of the rear exit doors of Bethel church, overgrown with ivy. Decorative trees framed either side of the exit and grew in a small garden to one side. If there had been a bench, I could have taken a seat and contemplated my shoe laces for an hour. Or not. If there had been a bench, a hobo would almost certainly have been sleeping on it.

The building is a contemporary construction and the ivy probably hasn't been growing there more than a season or two, but this feels like an age-old sanctuary. Even with the traffic roaring past on Johnson Street less than fifty feet away, the sheltered exit was a tranquil pocket of solitude.

Monona Terrace

So named because it's on the shore of Lake Monona on the isthmus in Madison, not because it's in Monona, the city on the other side of the lake. Clear as mud?

Monona Terrace is a convention center based on a 1938 design by Frank Lloyd Wright. The design as envisioned was to be for a civic center on the order of Marin County's, but it ran into a lot of political opposition and the idea was shelved. They'd occasionally bring it out, dust it off and fight over it for a little while before shelving it again. This went on for decades until 1992 when finally the city, casting about for designs for an exhibition center, approved this watered-down version of Wright's plan.

It's a very pretty place, and you can see Wright's influence in the design, but it's a far cry from what he originally planned, and when you take a look at the Marin County version it almost makes you weep to think of the jewel Madison could have had.

A Bunch O' Brass #1

Mail box in the State Office Building, 1 W. Wilson Street, Madison. Graven eagles don't get much more stalwart than this heraldic gem.

I had to make a delivery to this building last week in the course of my dutites and walked out with my jaw dragging the pavement. I love art deco; it's my dream to have my ashes scattered to the wind from the top of the Chrysler Building but, if that turns out to be impossible, and I have a hunch it might be, then box me up and put me in the mail drop at 1 West Wilson and I'll rest in peace.

A Bunch O' Brass #2

In this building, everything that could possibly be wrought from brass has been made from brass. When was the last time you saw the building directory tricked out in anything fancier than a plain frame of brushed chrome? There's enough ornamentation here to decorate every wedding cake in Wisconsin for the rest of the year.

A Bunch O' Brass #3

The last time I saw a doorway this ornate I was sightseeing in a cathedral. I wonder how they keep all that brass shining without a crew of hundreds of rag-weilding gnomes polishing every inch of it constantly throughout the day? Either it's not brass, which I refuse to believe, or they sealed it beneath a protective transparent overcoat after first polishing it to a high gloss. The effect is dazzling.

I didn't notice until I posted this photo that the clock was broken, or possibly it's running eight hours slow.

A Bunch O' Brass #4

The State motto flanked by African violets, Wisconsin's flower. This shield appears at the top of each of the four lamps standing on the stairs to the front door.

Introducing

Dave's Madison Trivia

Tidbit #1: The only clock on capital square is this Guiness-themed time piece on the sign over the door of Brocach, downtown Madison's "Irish" pub. And it's wrong. I don't remember when it stopped working; maybe when vandals broke the windows last month. For the past couple weeks it's been stuck at about five-thirty, although this morning it was twelve o'clock so maybe it's finally broken loose and is trying to catch up.

I've been to an Irish pub or two and they didn't resemble this one much, which combines the rustic decor of a Black-Eyed Pea with the tables and booths of a Bennigan's. The food's not bad, though, and they do serve Guiness, plus I like the location. Worth stopping for. Just not all that Irish.

Monona's Independence Day Fireworks

...began right on time, or as near to 9:20pm as to make no difference.

We had no idea it was as popular an event as the hundreds of cars parked along Monona's streets proved it was. We parked in the lot behind St Theresa's and walked down Greenway to the baseball field near the municipal center, found a spot of grass, and planted our chairs just in time.