Temporary Tourist

That gave us time to check out the Tall Gallery, where the 1:30 recital was going to take place. There was a tree projected on the wall. It swayed, as if in a breeze, and changed colors as if with the seasons - from green with pink blossoms to all green to orange to mostly bare. "It's so, so pretty. Wow," said Gwen, my 6-year-old. She was content to watch that for a minute, but in a big hurry to get to Kidspace, which I had already told her about. She wasn't thrilled about sitting on the floor at the other end of the gallery to listen to the music.
That changed, though, once Ericka and the kids arrived and the music started. The first piece, with Andy Akiho on the steel drum, Andrea Springer on the violin and Andrew Kozar on the trumpet, was exactly what I had envisioned the music would be like. The steel drum has such a beautiful, uplifting sound. I can't imagine a dirge being played on one of those.
The next piece was by Jeffrey Gauett, who sang an opera selection from a balcony above us. "The lyrics are kind of weird," said 9-year-old Caroline with a wrinkled nose. Her confusion abated when I explained he was singing in Italian. No, wait, singing in German. Oops! Now it's English. When he finally got to the English version and we could understand what he was saying, the words drew giggles out of our 6-year-olds, and many of the adults in the crowd, too.
The third piece was MoCA at its best. Sean Conway appeared, holding a trumpet. But rather than playing it, he shook it, twirled it and thumped it while making a sort of spitting noise. We watched, with mouths hanging open. We waited for him to play. He didn't. Caroline leaned over to me: "Maybe it's a comedy and he's trying to get it to work." Interesting, to say the least.
But it was the last piece that most enthralled me. Rose Bellini played cello, while Philippa Thompson played saw. Yes, saw. Caroline of course asked why the woman was holding a saw. I explained that she was going to use it as an instrument. That brought a smile, raised eyebrows and a nose wrinkled in disbelief.
The music was compelling - ethereal and alien sounding. How on earth could she know where to place the bow on the saw to produce the exact tone she needed? Fascinating. And at the conclusion, the inevitable statement: "I want to play the saw," Caroline said.
The four pieces were just enough to hold the kids' attention but not so long that they got bored. Now it was time to decide where to go next, so I pulled out the map. Uh, oh. This map made even less sense to me than the map I had tried to use at Williams College Museum of Art. If you read my column about that visit, you know that I have a serious spatial difficulty, particularly with things depicted graphically. This does not extend to road maps, however; they appeal to my concrete sequential nature.
When I saw what I was supposed to use to navigate myself through the museum, a light clicked on. People attracted to museums are visual people. (I am for sure a word, not a picture, person.) That's why these seemingly incomprehensible pictures made sense to the majority of the population! It all became clear.
I put the map away. It was rocket science as far as I was concerned. However, Isaiah, Ericka's 6-year-old, knew just where to take us. Good thing! We were off to explore The Miss Rockaway Armada, nirvana for kids. The space has been transformed in to a type of tree house, sans the tree, with trap doors and numerous doodads everywhere you look. The kids would have happily stayed there all day.
Caroline was most fascinated by the manual typewriters (apple
doesn't fall far from the tree there, does it?). Visitors take small piece of supplied paper and write profound statements or wishes and then post them. An example: "dear big mr. moster (sic) i come in peace. From maddy/hippo." That person must have had trouble figuring out where the shift key was, but I'm glad she was reassuring the monsters. And another: "I wish I could click my fingers and be anywhere I wanted to be. But here's pretty good for the time being."
And what did Caroline type? "hi. i like art. but i don't like working hard for it. c.e.f." How funny is it that Miss Nonvisual-has spatial-difficulties Writer Person would want to spend all day in that room reading every word left behind rather than looking at other stuff?
But we did drag ourselves away, finally, to Kidspace, where we saw Devorah Sperber's "Interpretations" exhibit. Sperber took famous works of art - "Mona Lisa" for example - broke them down into pixels of color, and then reproduced them with colored spools of thread. When you view the spools through special optical devices, the works become clear. I can't even imagine, with my spatial disability, how she could have figured that out. Astonishing. The kids had the chance to make some art of their own, too.
Ericka wanted us to see "Eastern Standard: Western Artists in China," but we both agreed that was something we would have to come back kidless for. The kids were antsy to return to Miss Rockaway and were not in a mood to dither with the moms as they gawked at stuff.
However, they were impressed when we opened the doors into the darkness that is Jenny Holzer's "Projections" - a massive space filled with even more massive bean bags in total blackness, except for the gigantic scrolling words that start at the far end and roll toward you on the ceiling, walls and floor. It is most impressive from just inside the door. "This is awesome," Caroline breathed as we stepped inside.
After leaving there, we stumbled into a room with terrariums that you could put your head inside - again, perfectly MoCA - and also saw the prototype for the tree turbine that stands in a courtyard. (I asked - yes, it does work, and does produce electricity. It was unknown if it would actually work when it was installed back in the spring.)
It was decided we would end the day back at Miss Rockaway with her trap doors and typewriter. It was not easy ultimately pulling the kids out of there.
Walking out, I told Ericka I felt like I had only seen a fifth of what was there, but that what we had seen had certainly suited a trip with kids. We were there for about three hours, had walked thousands of miles (or at least it felt that way), had heard some cool music and had given the kids the chance to climb and squeal and be otherwise kids. A successful trip to be sure.
And as a P.S., our day wasn't done yet. We continued on to Pedrin's for their famous onion rings (where I have been before) and from there to the Adams Town Hall lawn, where I haven't been and where we watched the free Friday night movie ("Enchanted" this week; check out The Advocate's calendar of events at advocateweekly. com for future listings). Because it was Community Day, South Adams Savings Bank supplied free hot dogs, snow cones, fried dough, popcorn, soda and water. The movie was great, the sound wonderful and the massive number of kids, for the most part, very well-behaved. We learned that there will be a special Saturday night movie on July 26, when Park Street will be closed off for a car show and "Grease" will be shown on the lawn. A pact was made not to miss that one!

Mass MoCA is open through Sept. 2 from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. Sundays through Fridays. Hours Saturdays through Aug. 23 are 10 a.m. to 7 p.m.; after Aug. 23, it will close at 6 through Sept. 2. Hours Sept. 2 though June 2009 are 11 a.m. to 5 p.m.; closed Tuesdays. Cost: $12.50/adults, $9/students, $5/children 6-16, free/children 5 and under and members. Bang On A Can music festival runs through July 26. Most performances are included with admission; two separate ticketed events will be held Saturday, July 19, and Saturday. July 26. Info: massmoca.org or 413-662-2111.

Advocate Assistant Editor Judith Fairweather can be reached at jfairweather@
advocateweekly.com.