NOVEMBER 30 -- DECEMBER 5: PART I

ROCKWELL KENT WILDERNESS CENTENNIAL JOURNAL

100 YEARS LATER

Nov, 29-Dec. 5, 2018 – Part I

Friday, Nov. 29, 1918

As their cabin shakes during the night with “such force that it seemed our thin roof could not stand it” – Kent and his son know they won’t be making a trip to Seward in the morning.

This “cabin shaking” seems particularly relevant today as I write this on Friday, Nov. 30, 2018. This morning at 8:29 we experienced a 7.0 earthquake, its epicenter about ten miles north of Anchorage. In Seward we had off and on tsunami warnings for a few hours and most of us evacuated to higher ground. Anchorage received significant damage.

For Kent night that night of wind and rain, was as close as he came to one of the frequent earthquakes we get in Alaska along this Pacific Rim of Fire. For the Kents on Nov. 29, 1918, the rain and snow continue blowing from the east throughout the day. The steamer Victoria works its way toward Seward in the afternoon, a depressing sight for Kent. Its arrival means others will dock in the next few days – the Admiral Watson and the Alameda. Victoria will leave the morning of Nov. 30th and Kent’s Christmas mail to wife and children will not be on it. Kent has conversations with his son that enlighten him. Since Rockie’s birth in 1909, Kent has often been separated from his wife and four children. Now on Fox Island he’s with his son alone – just the two of them. This is probably new and special for Kent. Over the years, he’s had to be in New York, not only working to support his family but also to be in the midst of the art world. He hasn’t been able to afford an apartment in the city for them all, so his wife and “kiddies” stay on Monhegan Island or elsewhere with Kathleen where it’s less expensive to live. These years between 1909 and 1918 Kent’s been twice to Newfoundland and once to Winona, Minnesota. He’s away much. That’s why we have so many letters. On Fox Island it’s often just father and son, especially when Olson’s off the island. Reading William Blake’s poetry --Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience – perhaps Kent sees himself at this time of life between Rockie’s innocence and Olson’s experience. He’s 36-years-old, and he sometimes writes about getting old in his letters to Kathleen. November and December 1918 are months of inner reflection for Kent. We see it in his letters. He often wonders at Olson’s life experiences and Rockie’s youthful energy and innocence. Anyone with children knows that if you can really get them to talk with you about what’s on their minds, you’ll get the most interesting stories. A few days ago, Rockie told his father that when his sister, Kathleen, wants to change the name of one her dolls she calls for the make-believe doctor – a role she then plays. She operates on the doll, cutting a hole in its stomach and stuffing into it a piece of paper with the new name. Today, on Nov. 29^th, Rockie tells about how he sees colors in people’s names as does his sister Clara. “Kent/Father” is blue. “Kathleen/Mother” is darker blue. His sister “Kathleen” is light yellow. Scientists consider this a form of synesthesia. Kent writes that scientist Francis Galton (1822-1911) would have been charmed by Rockie’s talent. In an 1880 article, Galton writes about how some people visualize mathematical problems. Scholars point out this may be the first scientific discussion of synesthesia.

Some successful painting makes up for his disappointment in not making the trip to Seward on Nov. 29th – that, and Olson’s long visit in early evening. Kent draws. Olson has learned to sit in silence while Kent works. He’s comforted and delighted at not being alone.

Nov. 30, 1918

Finally, Kent and Rockie rise to mild weather and calm seas. Not wanting to miss this opportunity, they skip breakfast, wake Olson, and the three load the dory for a trip to Seward. “There’s always much to be carried on a trip,” Kent writes -- “gasoline, oil, tools, my pack bag – containing clothes, heavy blankets, and spare boots, -- and the grub box Olson had given me packed with mail, books, grub, and the flute.” (I haven’t talked much about the flute. Kent’s father, who died when the artist was only five years old, left it to him. He learned to play the instrument and carried it with him on all his adventures.) Kent has been tinkering with the engine the last two weeks so he knows it works – and since it is not raining and won’t get wet it should take them all the way to Seward. They leave just before the sun rises above the mountains. This time of year, even with clear skies, we actually see the sun less than four hours a day. As you’ll see in the photos I’ve posted taken from the south end of town, the sun emerges above the mountains of the Resurrection Peninsula about 10 a.m., and sets behind the Aialik Peninsula by 2 p.m. – and as of today we’re still losing about three minutes of light each day. From his position on Fox Island, Kent would get a bit more sun once it rose above his island. As they pushed off the beach, started the engine, and headed out of the cove, Kent noted: “The sun from below the horizon shot shafts of light up into the clouds,” Kent writes, “gray became pink, and pink grew into gold until at last after an hour or more the sun’s rays lighted up the mountain peaks, and we knew that he had risen.” In Wilderness, we get a hint of Kent’s stress at these trips to Seward. He writes: “It continued calm and mild all the way, but nevertheless I caught myself singing ‘Erlkonig,’ such is my anxiety at carrying Rockwell with me.”

I must divert here to acknowledge this bizarre event. Franz Shubert composed the music to this song using the lyrics of a Goethe poem. The story is about the death of a child who has been attacked by a supernatural being – the Erlkonig. I’ve provided links for both the story and the poem as well as a YouTube version of its performance. Rockie didn’t know German well enough to understand the story itself, but the song would certainly be a distraction for him, perhaps even a humorous one as he watched his father in dramatic performance mode acting out the narrative. Back on Fox Island, in a Dec. 5^th letter to Kathleen he tells his wife that these ventures across the water to Seward are “a strain on me because of Rockwell. I run us great risks.” He assures Kathleen that he now takes care and is prudent because their son is so precious. “I somehow don’t care much about myself. I’ll care more someday when you do.” Singing Erlkonig probably distracted Kent as well, but why he would dwell on a story about the death of a child is anybody’s guess. Perhaps to remind himself of the risks he was taking with Rockie. The scene of the two crossing Resurrection Bay must have been surrealistic – both bundled against the cold, Rockie wrapped in one of Olson’s sheepskin coats ("much to his disgust and being so pampered," Kent writes in a Nov. 30th letter) -- the little engine puttering away – as Kent bellows out this dramatic Shubert melody to a Goethe poem about the death of a child. If they ever make a move of Rockwell Kent on Fox Island, filmmakers must incorporate this scene.

Somewhere along Caines Head they stop at a fishing camp, probably George Hogg’s. He has just trapped a wolverine, a prize catch. He offers them breakfast, but now knowing how quickly the weather can change, Kent declines and heads out to Seward. They stow their gear at Olson’s eight-foot square cabin and find lodging, probably at the Sexton Hotel. Kent devotes all of Chapter Six (Excursion) in Wilderness to this trip. I will not go into detail here since you can read it, but during these few days in town people warmed up to him and his son. He’s offered places to stay, saving him money on hotels. Rockie makes friends, probably visits the school as a guest, and is invited to parties and winter activities. The Chamber of Commerce shows an interest in his work. He describes and both praises and criticizes Seward, chuckling at the town calling itself the “New York of the Pacific.” That hype had come from the famous travel writer Frank G. Carpenter who visited Seward in the summer of 1915 after the town had been named the terminus of the new Government Railroad from Seward to Fairbanks. Carpenter traveled the rail route and published his series in 1916, with one article about Seward. During this early December stay in Seward, Kent also describes the town in words that found their way into many articles and guidebooks from 1920-1930 – “Seward is a tradesmen’s town and tradesmen’s views prevail, -- narrow reactionary thought on modern issues and a trembling concern at the menace of organized labor.” This no doubt in response the three local newspaper boys going on strike and the Seward Gateway editor in “frantic fear of an I.W.W. strike.” But Kent acknowledges that most in town laughed at the newspaper editor’s terror. “The worst of Seward is itself,” Kent writes, “the best is the strong men that by chance are there or that pass through from the great Alaska.” This is Kent’s assessment of the commercial wasteland of towns like Seward, and his admiration of the real frontiersmen and pioneers like Olson.

While in Seward, Kent is able to send off his Christmas letters and packages, and he receives much mail – including some unsettling letters from Kathleen. Again, Kent becomes angry and depressed and spends hours late into the evening and early morning hours responding. I must remind readers that time, space and the mail service problem make it impossible for husband and wife to truly communicate. They both realize this. In mid-September Kent received letters from Kathleen that disturbed him -- about her meeting with a Mr. Walker. His loneliness, insecurities and depression showed up in his responses to her. He wanted her to believe in him and show her love in her letters. By the time Kathleen gets those letters she has left Monhegan Island with the children to settle with her family in the Berkshires in Western Massachusetts. From there she writes longer, positive and loving letters back her husband. Unfortunately, those letters appear to be water damaged, probably written on onion skin paper, and are difficult to read. But I have been able to get the gist of them. Kent receives those letters and writes more positive letters in return. Meanwhile, Kathleen goes to New York and learns disturbing information about Hildegarde and about Nov. 21 writes those upsetting letters I recently discussed. But Kent only receives those letters on his trip to Seward between Nov. 30th and Dec. 5^th.

Now in Seward, Kent has electric lighting. He as temporarily left his Fox Island world of candles and lanterns. He is still haunted during his late evening and early morning letter writing marathons while Rockie is asleep – but it’s different with better light. Kathleen’s letter about Hildegarde has arrived. It’s not a pleasant read. There are money and trust issues, and the two are even arguing about who owns some of the furniture in his New York studio. Kent has much to write, with little time to finish. The letters must be on the next two steamers that will soon arrive in Seward with more of his mail. The vessels will only spend the night and the be off. Between Nov. 30^th and Dec. 5 while Kent is in Seward, he writes many letters.

PHOTOS

I took these photos on Friday, Nov. 29th to show how little actual sun we get this time of year, since Seward is surrounded by mountains. These shots were taken from the south end of town. Kent would get a bit more of the sun from his position on Fox Island.