Green Radio, Marilla Kitchen, c1961

I had decided not to post this picture of myself, out of recoil from vanity or embarrassment; take your pick. But then some intriguing results from G&C Readership Research prompted a change of policy in this instance. Thank you for your responses, Readership Critique Team.

Wintertime is on us in Marilla, probably in 1961.  Through the kitchen window we see snow on the roof of the front porch, with bare branches of the big old cherry tree etching through the grey sky.

Indoors all is cozy, especially for whoever just made himself the whiskey sour sitting on that tray there on the cupboard. The Maraschino cherry is already in it.  Behind the tray we see the little jar of those revolting Maraschino cherries, as well as a big glass jar of something white:  powdered sugar for whiskey sours? Vitamins?  Either way, the signs point to Dad, our EJZ, as photographer.

Alors, au téléphone c'est moi, JZ, looking maybe 7 years old, which is how I date this photo.  The white blobs on my headband are ballerinas in tutus.  No doubt I am talking with cousins Deb and Sharon. 

But the important thing is the radio.

That Zenith radio was big and solid and green. It had vaccuum tubes. It was sturdy and long-lived, even though not particularly fancy, i.e. in having no short-wave band reception.  Marty and Julie worshipped this radio, as it told us when snow days were declared and we did not have to go to school. The light-colored things on either side are holy pictures, which I do not recall specifically. Still, we kids could have stuck them on there to pray for snow days!  Who knows? We were real bon vivants that way.

Below is a picture from the interwebs of a radio of the same make and model. In Marilla that dial, that big metal ring with frequency numbers, was always shiny bright.  In the photo above, I am fiddling with the handle, which is the only use the handle ever got. That radio never went anywhere.

A mere couple of years after this, men made transistor radios. Uncle Tom, our Tom Kontak, had a beautiful small red one, early on; I remember him showing it to us and we being very impressed with the coolness. Tom's was a bit like the one below, except that the dial was black and there were parallel lines of red plastic, instead of that array of holes in the plastic.  Right, Tom? Amazing, the useless things I remember.

In closing, I can only say Hello to you from 1962! You should be so cool!

The Stroinski "Ringo"

The Coot Hill Family Historical Preservation Society offices house several paintings by Buffalo artist and favorite relation Edward Stroinski. We have featured one from our North Gallery and a second from our Administrative Office early in this blog. The Militello horse that made a photographic apearance last post has inspired the Curatress to show off this example of Stroinski equine portraiture.

Ringo was my Quarter Horse gelding, a gift from Mom and Dad.  He was Palomino-and-white, with white mane and tail, and he was mellow.  Physical exertion did not interest him overmuch; speed he did not wish to attain, but he was biddable enough to wander the countryside with me for hours.  At all seasons we would take off and disappear for a while, exploring. What a friend.

I remember Uncle Eddie at a family gathering one time, walking up to Ringo's fencerail and snapping some pictures.  Later he asked my Dad to rustle up some weathered barn boards so he could fashion the frame.  Then they gave me the portrait, just like that.  Whose idea was it? Uncle Eddie's?  Or Mom and Dad's?

Look how tall Dad's pine trees had grown, from 1957 to 1967.

See the shading on the ventral aspect of Ringo's neck, and the shadow of his head and halter on the fencerail.  I stared at these things often instead of studying.

A Couple of Marilla Photos

The snapshot below shows the essence of Gene and Clara's as a place and an institution, and, I would hope, explains the name of this blog.

They built the house in 1957.  We're seeing the kitchen not too long after that, and already so many of the vital elements are in place.  To the left, the hallway goes to the back door, which most visitors used, as well as indwellers.  So they checked out the garage as they came in, even if they were grandmas wearing fox stoles at the time.  This set the tone.  Of course, sometimes folk used the front door for fun. Then they would ring the doorbell, which had no microchip. A little hammer struck melodiously on long metal tubes.

On the walls we see the Polish Eagle on a card, and a recipe affixed to a cupboard door with a clothespin.  We see Suzette's dziura, her hidey-hole, with her leash hanging on the sidewall of it, a bit of her blanket, and a bit of herself at Clara's feet.  

Recipe books, Girl Scout candy in a tin, Southern Comfort,
Angostura bitters, stand mixer, electric frying pan.

That's a waffle iron on top of the refrigerator.
It's very benevolent-looking;
maybe it's the Buddha.

Clara is dressed like Julia Child - or perhaps Julia Child dressed like Clara - and it is important to realize that the stripes on her apron are in black, mauve, and greys, while the big band of pockets is a rich red.  Despite how that might sound, it looked great on her and against the oatmeal tweed of her below-the-knee sheath skirt.

Gene just got back from the office.

There's company in the house, over by the kitchen table, and somebody took that picture.  Blaise and Dorothy Militello may well have taken that picture. Wonderful neighbors: they first met in the winter, when the drifts were six feet high in front of the kitchen windows.  Clara looked up from the kitchen sink, and there were two feet on snowshoes standing on the snow directly in front of her. That was Dorothy, come over to say hello.

Below is the lead Militello saddle horse, Queenie, with Marty and Julie.  This is the driveway of their house, and across the road are buildings of the Pfitzinger farm.

JPZ Photographic Technique

We have seen that JPZ had a favorite pose for children.  Here are his son Eugene and his grandson Martin:

We've also found a couple of photo portraits of JPZ as a young man:

Here is John Peter Zdrojewski at the time of his First Holy Communion:

When in the course of time his son Eugene became a Communicant, JPZ reproduced the pose as far as practicable.  If you click to enlarge these photos, you can see detail of the cut of the suits and the style of the shoes, in addition to things being held in opposite hands, and so on.

If anyone has FHC photos of Casimir or John, send them to me and I'll put them up.

Here is a colorized version of Eugene's FHC photo.  How was this done?  The color does not look painted on.  I like the grapevine wallpaper.

Now, on the back of Gene's photo is his handwriting.  He's eight years old, and he is practicing his cursive writing:

 

 JPZ took is grandchildren around to multiple churches for interior shots in their FHC garb.  Marty looks like a redhead, but "the Shadow knows."

Photographer's notation on the back says "stained windows for background - green brown red etc."

In the case of my own colorized print, there is indeed some kind of color gunk applied to the print.  You can see it on the print, and you can see where a bit has rubbed off at each corner onto the matting.  Lordy, it's really yucky-looking!  I look like a Hummel figure reject.

Can anyone fill us in on print colorizing techniques, older and more recent?  With digital images, the whole idea is now quaint.

Julie