Our country’s gone off the rails. Absurd, bizarre, fantastic, foolish, nonsensical, preposterous, unreal, wild. Our country’s gone so far over the edge that tweeting the correct spelling of “hereby” is enough to clown on the POTUS.

The grown-ups at Merriam-Webster—and all the words tucked away in their Springfield, Massachusetts offices—are here to help. Merriam-webster.com gets 100 million page views a month, allowing them to see which words Americans are reaching for most, and when.  Like “surreal,” the word of the year for 2016, which just barely beat out “fascism.”

Merriam-Webster, Springfield, Massachusetts

Is it trolling to simply point out a spike in folks looking up “feminism” after Kellyanne Conway says she’s not a feminist? Can a definition be snarky? Is it throwing shade to post the definition of “fact” when your government keeps offering alternative ones? Does it make me happy to answer “yes”?

Lauren Naturale got the job running the Merriam-Webster Twitter account when the company tweeted a call for a social media manager: “I saw the job and I stayed up all night working on my application,” she says. “I was thrilled when I got the phone call saying M-W wanted to hire me. My wife bought me flowers, we drank sparkling wine out of IKEA champagne flutes, and two weeks later, I started work.”

Peter Sokolowski, Editor-at-Large, gave me a tour of the foxed wonders in the Springfield office. Card catalogs there are filled with 17 million words as they are used—an uncontested record of the greatest number of words in one spot.  Just raw dictionary.  Uncut. Another cabinet contains all of the words spelled backward, for, say, making a rhyming dictionary back before the world was digitized. This fills me with wonder, makes me want to roll around in perforated index cards like they’re autumn leaves.

Merriam-Webster, Springfield, Massachusetts

Merriam-Webster is doing what it’s always done: telling the truth about words. “This is not us being progressive,” Sokolowski says. “This is just us being accurate.” The earnest precision of the dictionary in its earlier print versions informs the trustworthiness of the current digital voice.

Look how hard the New International Third edition works to let you know what “puce” looks like: “dark red that is yellower and less strong than cranberry, paler and slightly yellower than average garnet, bluer and paler than average wine.”

Come ON.

Merriam-Webster – publishes reference books, especially dictionaries.
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The post Did You Know? Behind the Scenes at Merriam-Webster appeared first on Take Magazine.

This article originally appeared in our November 2015 print issue.

Celery root, also called celeriac, is like that weird-looking nerd you went to high school with: the one with the buck teeth who turned out to be a great beauty. Celery root is not the root of the celery plant (those tall, elegant green stalks are its cousin). Once you peel the skin off celeriac, you’ll find that the inside of this less-than-attractive root offers creamy-white flesh full of earthy, celery-like flavors with an undertone of parsley. It often seems to have a rich, nutty quality as well.

Speaking of peeling, your best way to get through the gnarly, uneven skin is to use a small, sharp knife; a serrated bread knife; or a wide vegetable peeler. Work your way around the root until all the skin is removed. Once peeled, the root is known to darken; to prevent this, soak peeled, cut celeriac briefly in water acidulated with a touch of lemon juice or white vinegar.

When shopping for celeriac (farmers’ markets are your best bet), choose roots that feel heavy in your hand and have no mush or soft flesh. A smooth root will be easier to peel, and if the root has green shoots growing on top, be sure they are fresh and bright green, not dried and wilted.

The texture of the flesh of celeriac is somewhat like a potato, and in fact, can be used as a substitute. Think mashed celery root, celery root gratin, celery root “fries,” grated celery root pancakes, or cream of celery root soup. It’s exceedingly versatile and can be eaten raw, steamed, mashed, roasted, or sautéed.

But the most famous moments of celeriac come in the classic French bistro dish céleri rémoulade, in which the root is grated or cut into very thin strips and tossed raw with (often homemade) mayonnaise, a touch of Dijon mustard, parsley, salt, and pepper.

Because it’s a root vegetable, celeriac keeps well for months, making for some great winter eating. Store it in a cool, dark spot—ideally a root cellar—or wrap it loosely in newspaper or plastic and store it in the refrigerator for several weeks.

Kathy Gunst – writer
Maine
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All photography by Izzy Berdan

The post Take Root appeared first on Take Magazine.

This article originally appeared in our December 2015/January 2016 print issue. 

If you’ve driven through central Connecticut on either I-84 or Route 8, you’ve likely gazed upon the Holy Land—Holy Land USA in Waterbury, that is. What you’ve seen is the 56-foot cross that stands on a promontory above the city, but the 18-acre site on which the cross stands contains more wonders. Indeed, like Howard Finster’s Paradise Gardens or Simon Rodia’s Watts Towers, Holy Land USA was the work of a visionary.

John Baptist Greco was a Waterbury attorney and devout Catholic who, in 1955, led a group called Companions of Christ to the top of Pine Hill, where they created a miniature facsimile of the Holy Land. Though focusing on the life of Jesus—Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Herod’s Palace—they also fashioned a Garden of Eden and a diorama depicting Daniel in the lion’s den, using old bathtubs, cinder blocks, cement, and clay. The cross—which can be seen from all directions on the highways—was the anchor to the endeavor.

Word about Greco’s feat spread to the faithful, and soon busloads made pilgrimages to walk among the knee-high structures and enjoy the view of the Naugatuck Valley. By the 1960s and 1970s, as many as 40,000 visitors arrived annually.

As the demographics of the city changed, fewer people came, and nature and social decay vied for what could do the most damage. Greco closed Holy Land in 1984 and, upon his death two years later, bequeathed it to the Filippini Sisters, an order of nuns. With little money to keep up the property, it fell into near ruins. Efforts were sporadically undertaken to restore it, but the task proved too daunting. Still, the signature cross continued to stand tall and serve as a beacon of hope to the often-beleaguered city and a beloved landmark to travelers.

In 2013, Holy Land was blessed with a miracle when businessman Fritz Blasius and Waterbury mayor Neil M. O’Leary purchased the property. The first improvement they made was erecting a new state-of-the-art steel cross that is internally lit and changes colors at night.

Chuck Pagano, a recently retired ESPN executive who grew up in Waterbury’s Brooklyn neighborhood, is among those who’ve since helped restore the park.

“Holy Land was within eyesight of my bedroom growing up,” says Pagano, president of Holy Land Waterbury’s board of directors. “After mass on Sunday, my family would walk up there. It’s the only thing left that connects my city with my past.”

Squads of volunteers with similar tales spent most of 2014 clearing brush and trees that had grown in the past 30 years. Two annual masses have since been held in the chapel on the property, attended by more than 700 people.

“There’s good energy in the city over this,” says Pagano, pointing to the “Holy Land USA” sign, built to echo the famous Hollywood sign. “Long term, our vision is to restore the whole thing to its original state, maybe even more so.”

Like a lot of religious shrines, Holy Land isn’t easy to find. There are no markers on the highways below, and there’s only one marker on the serpentine streets leading up to it.

“My old football idol, Vince Lombardi, used to say, ‘No pain, no gain,’” says Pagano. “You gotta make the effort.”

“On my first trip out of the country for ESPN, I was gone to Australia for two months,” he recalls. “We started back two days before Christmas. On the final leg of the trip, after being in the air 30 hours, I looked out the plane’s window as we were coming out of some clouds and saw Holy Land. ‘Now I know I’m home,’ I remember thinking.”

Holy Land USA
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Photo by Jimmy Ienner, Jr., 2015

The post Did You Know? Holy Land USA appeared first on Take Magazine.

Our region is home to some of the world’s most dedicated synthesizer archivists, people who’ve spent their lives documenting this built analog circuitry of sound. Like the intricate mazes of inputs and connections hidden inside these electronic instruments, New England also has a deep, complex, and somewhat tragic history with synthesizers.

You can’t accurately or truthfully discuss the history of synth archiving and documentation in New England without mentioning the region’s original synth nerd-god, David Wilson. Wilson dedicated two floors of his home in Nashua, New Hampshire to curating, cataloging, and repairing vintage synthesizers. He opened his home to the public, allowing synth obsessives from all over unbridled access to his machines. Wilson would personally set up these instruments, and allow museum-goers the unique opportunity to examine and even play most of his synths. To the shock and sadness of many, Wilson passed away too soon in 2010. His close friends, family, and casual museum patrons describe him as genial, a bit eccentric, and democratic with his appreciation for all people and synths, not just the “important” ones.

David Wilson in his home | Photo courtesy Matrix Synth

Years after Wilson’s passing, his collection remains in limbo. However, there is a resource where some of his synthesizers can be seen and appreciated: Synthmuseum.com, a Boston-based operation that offers “a centralized, organized, and authoritative resource for information about vintage electronic musical instruments.”

The online synth museum is the brainchild of Paula Chase and Jay Williston, who, in 1996, after visiting David Wilson at his in-home museum, decided that the internet would be a great place for a synthesizer archive fueled by user-submitted content. “There wasn’t one place where you could see synthesizers and find out about their features, find out about what existed and when it existed, what it looked like and who played it,” says Williston “This started with us going to visit Dave’s museum. We thought, ‘Oh, wouldn’t it be great to put his museum in a nice building?’ But then we thought, ‘We can’t do that, it’s not our place.’ But we figured we could take his synths, and synths from everywhere, and put them online.

Moog Sonic Six | Photo by Kevin Lightner

“When we started this,” he continues, “we just asked people to send us pictures of synthesizers, brochures, and manuals. It’s basically getting everything you want to know about vintage synthesizers in one resource.”

Today, Williston is the only founder who continues the highly labor-intensive process of updating the website. Since the beginning, Williston and the founders hand-typed everything from manuals, magazine descriptions, or brochures, and still receive corrections, comments, and feedback from folks perusing the site. The website is clearly from the mid-to-late 1990s, and Williston isn’t bashful about pointing that out. For people poking around the site, its dated look lends an extra layer of meaning and congruity to the archive. After all, wouldn’t it be sort of weird to seamlessly click through a collection of late 1980s electronic instruments using a sleek, futuristic, Square-Space-like template?

[This] “Polyvox belonged to a trance-ambient band that played on same stage as we did in a festival last summer. In fact, it wasn’t really their’s either, they had borrowed it from a friend who got it from the janitor at a Russian school…. The band called themselves ‘Lhix’, and are a local but highly competent young band from Umea, Sweden….The picture was taken by me.” – Patrik Eriksson, Umea Sweden | Description from Synthmuseum.com | Photo by Patrik Eriksson

Perhaps someday David Hillel Wilson’s collection will be open to the public again, and perhaps someday Jay Williston will document and list every synthesizer ever made. Until then, we have Synthmuseum.com, and our piqued curiosity about what wild electronic reverberations lived in Wilson’s two floors in Nashua, New Hampshire.

Top photo Patched System 700 | Photo by Kevin Lightner 

The post Did You Know? New England’s Online Synth Museum appeared first on Take Magazine.

One, while pulling your mug out of the cupboard, drop the mug directly on the hourglass-shaped coffee maker. Two, when swishing water inside the Chemex to rinse it out, smash “one of the best-designed products of modern times” (according to the Illinois Institute of Technology) against the faucet. Three, slide the empty thermal shock-resistant glass vessel across the counter and bang it into a heavier object not usually on the counter. I’m incredibly careful when I make coffee now.

Sure, Chemex coffeemakers are breakable, but so are our mobile phones. I grew up in a Chemex household in eastern Massachusetts. At one point, my dad carved a new wooden collar for our coffeemaker, because the original caught on fire from being on the burner one too many times. It wasn’t until I was well into adulthood—and probably on my second or third Chemex—that I learned my favorite coffeemaker comes from my home state.

The family-owned Chemex Corporation is located in Chicopee, Massachusetts, having moved an hour east from its longtime home in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, in 2014. The move to Chicopee “was out of necessity because of the surge of requests from specialty coffee roasters, and we were bursting at the seams,” says Eliza Grassy, Chemex’s vice president. Soon, the company will add a second production shift. Chemex was initially started in the early 1940s by the German inventor and bon vivant Peter J. Schlumbohm and went through a few owners until the Grassy family purchased it in 1980.

Patent image courtesy of Chemex Corp.

The coffeemaker has featured the same hourglass design since its invention, although it now comes in a lot more sizes. It is efficient and handsome with both its original bentwood collar or equipped with a glass handle. The rawhide cording that holds the two parts of the collar together is supplied by Rawlings (of baseball glove fame) and is knotted through a wooden bead. If there is any sort of secret to the Chemex’s success at making a stellar cup of coffee, it would have to be the heavy-duty, specialty-fiber filters that keep oils and sediment out while providing a long full steep through the hourglass. The basic procedure for making great coffee with this vessel is to boil water, add coffee into the cone-shaped paper filter, pour the water in, and then wait for it to percolate through. It could not be simpler.

When Schlumbohm spoke with author Jay Doblin for his book One Hundred Great Product Designs in 1970, he described the form-follows-function philosophy behind his invention: “One of the aspects of our new generation crystallized as Bauhaus style: A table must be a table; a chair must be a chair; a bed must be a bed.” So it stands to reason that he would think that a coffeemaker must be a coffeemaker and then create one as iconic as an Eames Lounger or Warhol soup can. My sister occasionally uses hers as a flower vase.

THIS PIECE FIRST APPEARED OUR FEB/MARCH 2016 PRINT ISSUE AVAILABLE HERE

Top image courtesy of the author

The post Did You Know? Western Massachusetts’ Iconic Coffeemaker appeared first on Take Magazine.

MATRIX was first.

Housed in the Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art in Hartford, Connecticut, MATRIX was the first gallery space in a traditional art museum dedicated to a changing series of contemporary art exhibitions. It is an idea that has since been replicated by more than 50 museums across America since MATRIX launched in 1975.

MATRIX has also been home to the first solo exhibitions for many of the world’s most important contemporary artists: Carrie Mae Weems, Glenn Ligon, Barbara Kruger, and Gerhard Richter to name just a very few. All told, more than 160 emerging artists have been exhibited to date.

“It was considered groundbreaking,” says Patricia Hickson, the museum’s curator of contemporary art. “Most encyclopedic museums never had exhibits with contemporary art at that time. It was not part of the canon. This was the first time putting contemporary art in dialogue with the storied collections of the Wadsworth Atheneum.”

(Top and Above photo) An Andy Warhol exhibition in the MATRIX gallery of the Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art in 1979.

Andrea Miller-Keller was there from the beginning when then-Atheneum Director James Elliot started conceptualizing the idea. She wrote the National Endowment for the Arts grant that enabled the idea to become a reality.  

“Back then, contemporary art had no secular place in any art museum,” Miller-Keller says. “[MATRIX] was that bridge between a traditional art museum and a desire to share contemporary ideas.”

Miller-Keller ultimately became the first MATRIX curator, a position she held for 23 years. In that time, she considered helping the public to understand contemporary art as one of her main functions. “Traditional art is always soothing and makes you feel elevated,” she says, “and contemporary art is often challenging and makes people feel confused. My number-one job was to dispel the confusion.”

To that end, a MATRIX exhibit has always been multifaceted. Miller-Keller made sure exhibits included publications and handouts as well as gallery talks. “No one should walk into a room and feel lesser because they don’t get it,” she says. “My mission was always to show the toughest work but to offer the public some explanations.”

Photos Courtesy of The Wadsworth Atheneum

The post Did You Know? This MATRIX is Real appeared first on Take Magazine.