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Virginia’s Crooked Road, Mountain Music Lights the Way
May 20, 2011
The New York Times
By SARAH WILDMAN
IT starts
with a well-worn fiddle, held in equally well-worn hands above a tapping black
cowboy boot. Then in comes the banjo, plucked with steel finger picks, followed
by the autoharp, the mandolin, the percussive beat of an upright bass. Another
banjo grabs the melody, and suddenly the room is bursting with knee-slapping,
country-porch music. A man in a crisp checked shirt gets up and starts to dance,
bouncing out a complicated bumbumBAM bumbumBAM with his feet, moving as smoothly
as a Martha Graham dancer, hitting the floor on the downbeat.
It is Thursday night in Fries (pronounced freeze), Va., population 600, on the
wide New River. In the century-old Fries Theater, the silk wallpaper, once a
glorious aquamarine embossed with gold ferns, is faded. A sign promises movies
for 10 cents, 25 cents on weekends, but there hasn’t been a film here in years.
The Fries high school closed in 1989 after the cotton mill that gave birth to
this hamlet in 1902 shut down. But where the economy has faltered, the local
music culture is thriving. Take a drive through the dozens of one-stoplight
towns that are planted along highways that twist through this region’s blue
hills and green valleys, and you’ll find that music is the manna of the
community.
Fries was my first stop on the music trail known as the Crooked Road — an
official designation of the state of Virginia since 2004. The heritage of the
path can be found in this dance, in that tune, learned by ear from house to
house and passed down through generations. The Road isn’t one single highway —
it’s a roughly 300-mile series of interconnected two-lane byways and long
stretches of Route 58, which skims Virginia’s North Carolina and Tennessee
borders all the way to Kentucky. The sound here is Appalachian: mountain music.
Joe Wilson, who wrote a book on the Crooked Road, calls the area the “pickle
barrel” of American music. “You know you can’t make a good pickle by squirting
vinegar on a cucumber,” he said. “You have to let it sit.”
Over five days in April, I rambled along part of the Crooked Road and towns
around it, from Fries up to Ferrum and Floyd, back to Galax and out to Marion,
dipping down toward Abington, and back to Galax again. With my partner, Ian, his
parents and my 2-year-old daughter, Orli, I drove down roads that curve so
dramatically that locals joke that you can see your own taillights as you round
the bends. The drive cuts through pastures dotted with cows and horses and
weather-beaten barns, some abandoned and left to splinter. Many see the land
they sold in recent decades now covered in Christmas trees, a boom industry that
has changed the landscape. Churches rise up one after the other: Baptist,
Pentecostal, Methodist. “Google Doesn’t Satisfy All Searches,” reads one church
sign. “Can’t Sleep? Try Counting Your Blessings,” says another.
We traveled 370 miles in all, what with switchbacks and retracing our steps to
hear just one more tune. We were following the songs that had blown this way and
that like so many dandelion seeds across the Blue Ridge Mountains and through
the foothills of Appalachia. Our lodgings included everything from a Hampton Inn
to an eco-minded auberge decorated by local artists, to a Ragtime-era hotel,
recently restored to its former glory.
ALONG the way we stuffed ourselves with buttery biscuits, farm eggs and
smokehouse Southern flavors that somehow taste different south of the
Mason-Dixon line. Orli loved every minute of it; her affinity for the music was
immediate. When she ran onto the dance floor at the Floyd Friday Night Jamboree,
the man next to me caught my arm. “Let her be,” he said. “We’re mountain people
— we’ll take care of her as our own.” She woke each morning singing the twang of
the banjo.
If there ever was a place where musical authenticity was born and nurtured,
“raised up” as the people around here say, the Crooked Road is it. From the
Carter Family Fold in Hiltons (the site of Johnny Cash’s last concert) and
Clintwood, deep in coal country, to the farms near Floyd, music is still being
made on fiddles and banjos, mandolins and guitars, dulcimers and autoharps.
Every night you’ll find pick-up jams on front porches, performances in theaters
and quartets that pack storefronts, an old courthouse and even a Dairy Queen. In
summer the area is awash in festivals, from Dr. Ralph Stanley’s Memorial Day
bluegrass festival in the mountains of Coeburn, Va., to the venerable Old
Fiddlers Convention held every August in Galax.
This region is where old-time and bluegrass was born. Old-time is dance music,
simpler and older than bluegrass. Bluegrass is filled with vocal harmonies, many
made famous by (relative) newbies like Alison Krauss and Gillian Welch. It is
suited more for seated audiences than the foot-stomping dance I saw in Fries,
which is known as flatfoot. Both genres evolved from tunes brought by
Scotch-Irish and German settlers who traveled down the wagon trails from
Pennsylvania. They brought dulcimers and fiddles and later picked up the banjo
from former slaves.
“It wasn’t real practical to bring a piano or an organ till there was a train,”
said David Arnold, a Fries native whose wild white beard reached mid-sternum. I
met him at a jam. It turned out he was the chairman of the Music Heritage
Committee at the Grayson County Heritage Foundation in nearby Independence.
Our nights were spent looking for music, but during the day there were farms to
explore and hikes to be taken through gorgeous parks. But even there, you’ll
find music. For instance, in June, at the Grayson Highlands State Park, home to
herds of photogenic wild ponies, the annual Wayne C. Henderson guitar festival
draws some of the best guitar players in a region packed with prodigies.
Mr. Henderson himself is a local legend. He lives and makes guitars in a
blink-and-you’ll-miss-it village called Rugby (population 7) that’s not
officially on the Crooked Road, though his shop is something of a pilgrimage
site. (Eric Clapton owns one of his guitars.) I met him at one of those musical
nights that seem to happen all the time around there — this one included fellow
guitar makers Jimmy Edmonds and Gerald Anderson performing at a community center
in Galax while volunteers sold sacks of homemade gingersnap cookies for a
dollar. The event was a fund-raiser for a program called JAM (Junior Appalachian
Musicians) which aims to get local children involved in their own roots by
teaching them to play music and introducing them to regional artists. A kids’
string band called Loose Strings played to thunderous applause.
“It was a way of entertainment for mountain people,” Mr. Henderson said of the
music he grew up with. He went on to explain why he became a luthier, or
instrument maker, a craft for which he won the 1995 National Endowment for the
Arts National Heritage Fellowship. “I got into making them because I couldn’t
afford a nice Martin. Living in Appalachia, nobody’s got much money.”
It’s true. Galax, for one, is a depressed city. There used to be a thriving
furniture business there, but lower production costs overseas closed factory
after factory. At the edge of town, you’ll find an Arby’s, Aunt Bea’s Barbecue,
a decent Mexican place and a Wal-Mart, but there’s less work downtown. The
streets were quiet the afternoons we wandered through. Folks were around,
though, once we started to look. Some were wiping their hands on napkins at the
Galax Smokehouse, which is known for pork, but also serves an excellent, juicy
barbecue chicken. And then there’s the 1920s Rex Theater, which broadcasts live
each Friday night on WBRF, a country and bluegrass radio station that provided
the soundtrack to our trip.
But the liveliest business in town is Barr’s Fiddle Shop. Packed floor to
ceiling with fiddles, guitars, amps and all manner of music — as well as a
candy-shop section stocked with fudge — Barr’s hosts music sessions, curious
tourists and lesson seekers. In the 1920s, the Hill Billies quartet got its
start on the site — then a barbershop — and their sound, which came to be known
as hillbilly music, swept the nation. “People are raised up going to the music,”
said Stevie Barr, a 35-year-old banjo virtuoso with a shock of surfer blond
hair, who owns the shop his father opened. “You are born with it, and you are
born listening to it.”
I had heard that the best place to be on Friday night, to really see that
generational mix, was the town of Floyd. So we bid farewell to Galax, popped a
Wayne Henderson CD into the car stereo, and headed up the Crooked Road. “More
dance!” Orli cried from the back seat. And then, looking out the window, “More
cows! More horses!” Heaven for a city kid is driving in farm country.
BEFORE we’d gone too far, we came across Harmon’s. The sign, calling it the
“Boot Capitol of Virginia,” was enticing and I couldn’t resist pulling into the
parking lot. It is a sprawling store filled with stiff Wranglers, Stetson hats
and endless rows of cowboy boots. Tucked in back was a museum dedicated to
regional law-enforcement: a hodgepodge of Civil War paraphernalia; news reports
of a shooting at the Carroll County jail in 1912 that people still talk about;
the 1920 Matewan mining massacre; and random bits, like a stuffed two-headed
calf. Even here there is a music exhibit, with a dulcimer and a banjo, and
records cut by local musicians in the 1920s.
I tried on a pair of boots, shot through with aqua up the shaft, rich mahogany
leather at the bottom. The ladies at the cash register clucked with approval.
“That’ll look real nice with skirts come summer,” one said. Impulsively, I
bought them and jumped back in our rented Ford. And then I saw Ian with a
Harmon’s bag. “I bought a Western-style shirt, $21,” he said, shrugging.
A few hours later we were picking up tickets for the Floyd Country Store Friday
Night Jamboree — $5 each — in advance. Then we wandered down the street to
Oddfella’s Cantina, a cozy restaurant with mismatched furniture, for salads (a
relief after all the barbecue) washed down with local Shooting Creek beer. We
skipped dessert to hit the jamboree.
The night began with the bluegrass gospel group Janet Turner & Friends. Tiny and
snowy-haired, Ms. Turner plays a mean autoharp that pairs well with her sweet,
high voice. “When I die, hallelujah, by and by, I’ll fly away,” she sang. Orli
stood in the footlights, playing an air guitar; she and another toddler each
began to dance.
But then, within seconds of the band’s closing note there was a rush for the
dance floor. The audience had changed into double tap shoes, and left a sea of
shoes in their wake. What had started out churchlike became a rumble and a roar.
The Friday Night Old Time Band had begun. The music picked up, and the number of
people in the store doubled, tripled, quadrupled. I swooped Orli up and back,
away from the dancing feet. Every inch of wall space was undulating, whooping,
stomping. More polished than the dancers at Fries, everyone knew how to
flatfoot, and the tap shoes kept the time. A fellow in a T-shirt that read
“Still Truckin’ ” spun me onto the dance floor. I did my best to keep up,
clicking my boots on the floor.
Catching my breath, I wandered back into the store, past swirls of giant
lollipops and displays of Carhartt pants and jackets. The room reeked of sweat;
dancers were backed up to the ice cream counter. There I met Jackie Martin in
pressed Liberty overalls. The music she said, nearly teary, has kept her going
through hard times. “It’s who we are and what we are,” Ms. Martin said. “I’m 66
years old and I can still flatfoot!”
The Floyd Country Store may be all about tradition, but the rest of town has a
nouveau-hippie vibe, evident in places like the eco-minded Hotel Floyd, in
events like Floyd Fest (a summer World Music festival) and in new galleries like
Troika, which features decidedly unfolksy pottery, photography, wood pieces and
drawings. Owned by the potter Silvie Granatelli, Gibby Waitzkin (a paper
artist), and Susan Icove (a lighting designer), Troika emerged out of a biannual
gallery crawl called 16 Hands, which takes visitors to the studios of artists
who have moved to the region over the last 30 years or so, lured by affordable
property and lovely vistas. In the process, they have pushed Floyd toward a
creative economy that has buoyed it beyond the economic hardship experienced
elsewhere on the Road. (Abingdon, about two hours from Floyd, has that energy
too; a regional arts center called Heartwood is due to open in June.) We visited
Ms. Granatelli’s studio, which is set in a swath of scenery that feels like an
Andrew Wyeth painting: lazy cows on the hillside above her white clapboard
house, a serene creek below.
In the morning, after stacks of hot cakes, we got on the Blue Ridge Parkway and
headed an hour south to the Blue Ridge Music Center on the Virginia-North
Carolina border. Run by the National Park Service and the National Council for
the Traditional Arts and created by Congress, the Music Center has hiking
trails, a marvelous Mid-Day Mountain Music series that runs from May through
October and an amphitheater.
“History is under every rock in this area,” said Erynn Marshall, music program
manager at the center, as she showed me around “The Roots of American Music,” a
new interactive exhibition with instruments, photography and stories that trace
the history and sound of the region. It was created by Joe Wilson, chairman of
the National Council of Traditional Arts and author of “A Guide to the Crooked
Road: Virginia’s Heritage Music Trail,” and designed by Ralph Applebaum, known
for the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. In recent years, Ms. Marshall
said, there has been a big push toward preserving local history and culture, and
she recommended that we head to another place to see even more of that effort:
the Blue Ridge Institute & Museum, in Ferrum.
The drive to the museum, we learned belatedly, was on one of the most
breathtakingly twisting roads in a region of shockingly complicated driving. But
on arrival, we were pleased to find a child-friendly 19th-century working farm.
A woman named Rebecca was dressed as the farmer’s wife; there were oxen and
lambs to pet, horses, a blacksmith and a woman fiddling away on an ancient
violin. At the museum, the current show, which is on display through July, is on
the history of the dulcimer. Black-and-white photography in another room
captures Appalachian women in the middle of the last century.
But there is another kind of history in these parts too. An hour and a half from
Galax in Marion, just off Highway 81, the town’s main street is darkened by the
shadows of empty storefronts. On the edge of town, a Wal-Mart looms. The Lincoln
Theater and the Francis Marion hotel next door are lone standouts in a time of
deep economic upheaval. Built in 1929 by the furniture factory owner Charles
Wassum, the Lincoln is a masterpiece of Mayan revival; it stood empty from 1977
until a renovation in 2004. The hotel hails from the same era; it was
rehabilitated from a boarding house to its former glory five years ago. After
checking into our neat black-and-white room, we had a bite to eat and ran into
the Lincoln for its monthly event, Song of the Mountains, a collaboration
between the Lincoln Theater and PBS.
The theater is gorgeous — Art Deco murals on the walls, depicting scenes of
Southern history. Sweet Potato Pie, a five-woman bluegrass band, was on stage.
The sound was amazing, but immediately we realized we’d made a mistake. Orli
couldn’t run here, couldn’t dance. She was the only child in the audience. After
two songs, she and Ian left for the hotel.
They missed the Carter Family Sound, the group that took the stage next and
played a string of songs in homage to one of the first families of bluegrass and
country music. I met the group in the lobby after their set, and they laughed
that I’d brought a 2-year-old. The place for little ones, they said, is the
Carter Family Fold, in Hiltons, a few hours down the road. On Saturday nights,
old-time bands pack the house and children run free.
You could spend a whole summer here, I realized, going to jams every night,
seeking out sit-down venues like the Fold, and the Lincoln, standing-room-only
music sessions in stores, and hiking the trails along New River.
As we drove back home to Washington, I kept thinking of the song playing when
we’d left the Fries session that first night. “Y’all come,” Karen Carr on the
upright bass had sung out, channeling Bill Monroe’s country song of that title.
“Y’all come see to us now and then.”
And we promised ourselves that we would.
SARAH WILDMAN is
a frequent contributor to the Travel section.
On Virginia’s Crooked Road, Mountain Music Lights the Way,
NYT, 20.5.2011,
http://travel.nytimes.com/2011/05/22/travel/on-virginias-crooked-road-music-lights-the-way.html
In
Virginia, Touring Lesser-Known Civil War Sites
April 29,
2011
The New York Times
By JONATHAN VATNER
APRIL 12
was the 150th anniversary of the attack on Fort Sumter, which ignited the Civil
War. Over the next four years, Fort Sumter, as well as Fredericksburg, Manassas
and other major Civil War battlefields, will see heavy foot traffic. Gettysburg
alone is expecting more than four million visitors in 2013, the 150th
anniversary of that battle and the Gettysburg Address.
But for every story told in history books and on tourism trails, dozens more
have been mostly ignored.
“While the big battles like Gettysburg and Fredericksburg garner all the
attention, the war was actually won and lost in a multitude of small actions
across every corner of the South,” said Mike O’Donnell, an author and publisher
of books for military collectors. “And the bigger sites have been developed,
since they were turned into parks. Many of these smaller places haven’t changed
at all.”
Mike O’Donnell, I should add, is also my uncle. Growing up in Massachusetts, I
knew Uncle Mike as an impassioned storyteller who, visiting from Virginia,
arrived in a big white van full of books that catalogued relics of the Civil
War: belt buckles, canteens, uniform insignia. He spun riveting tales of
military honor for me and my brothers. Since then, I’ve learned that he is
something of a leader to relic hunters — known sometimes as “amateur
archaeologists,” sometimes as “looters” — who search battlefields with metal
detectors.
Last fall, he was my guide to four sites — all in Virginia — that most people
miss but that are just as important as the better-known battlefields, and
perhaps even more authentically preserved. (Walking tours are available at most
of the sites.)
Slaughter
Pen Farm
We began by driving along Lee Drive, south of downtown Fredericksburg, a
well-shaded five-mile Park Service road that follows the main Confederate line
during the Battle of Fredericksburg, and looped around on Route 17 to arrive at
Slaughter Pen Farm, a 208-acre site that the Civil War Trust, a nonprofit
preservation organization, bought in 2006 for $12 million. The organization says
it was the most expensive private-sector battlefield purchase in history.
A 1.9-mile walking trail made its debut in 2009, leading visitors through the
events of the battle. Starting this month, the Trust is offering a GPS-enabled
iPhone app covering the entire Battle of Fredericksburg, including Slaughter Pen
Farm (civilwar.org/battleapps).
Most people familiar with the Battle of Fredericksburg know about the Union
defeat at the stone wall inside the city. The battle was much more evenly
matched, however, a few miles away at Slaughter Pen Farm, Mike explained. The
left wing of the Union Army surged across this farm to attack Stonewall
Jackson’s line. The battle raged back and forth.
“Had the Yankees been reinforced, they might have broken through Stonewall
Jackson’s line,” Mike said. “But they weren’t, and the Confederates drove them
out across those fields.”
(11232 Tidewater Trail, Fredericksburg, Va.; 202-367-1861)
Graffiti
House
The largest cavalry battle in North American history took place at Brandy
Station in Culpeper County. (The Trust has protected some 1,700 acres of the
battlefield.) The Graffiti House, a general store built in 1858 that sits on the
battlefield, was used as a hospital, first by the Confederates and then by Union
forces. In 1993, just before the house was to be torn down, the owner
discovered, beneath layers of wallpaper and stucco, charcoal drawings,
signatures and notes from recuperating soldiers.
The house is now a museum, with exhibits downstairs and the original marked-up
walls upstairs. Curators have pointed out signatures of known soldiers and
officers, including possibly the Confederate general J.E.B. Stuart. The Maryland
Scroll, a list of General Stuart’s Horse Artillery that was cut out from the
wall, is perhaps the house’s most striking artifact.
(19484 Brandy Road, Brandy Station, Va.; 540-727-7718;
brandystationfoundation.com)
Montpelier
and Gilmore Cabin
“The focus has always been on battlefields, a sexy way to promote something,”
said Eric Mink, a historian for the National Park Service at Fredericksburg and
Spotsylvania National Military Park. “But more men died of disease in their
camps than in the battlefields. Recently there’s been a tremendous interest in
seeing those sites preserved.”
Most of those winter camps are on private property or are otherwise
inaccessible. However, Montpelier, the home of James and Dolley Madison, has
opened some nearby camps to visitors. Across the street from the estate stands
the Gilmore Cabin, a tiny house with a stone chimney built by George Gilmore, an
emancipated slave. In the woods behind it, a trail leads through the campsites
of five regiments from South Carolina led by Gen. Samuel McGowan. The
Confederate Army built these camps after its defeat at Gettysburg, and stayed
through the winter of 1863-64. According to Matthew Reeves, director of
archaeology at Montpelier, it’s the largest collection of Civil War campsites on
protected land.
Without explanation, the camps admittedly do not look like much — just pocks and
bumps in rows along the hillside, a little like ski moguls. But through Mike’s
eyes, the area is rich with stories and ghosts. During our visit, he darted from
site to site, pointing out rocks that were probably used in a fire pit, a spot
that might have been a latrine, a gully for drainage, a nearby trash pit and a
plateau where officers probably lived.
“This ground was honeycombed with little cabins,” he said. “Guys lived here for
six months, dreaming of home.”
At the end of the trail, though, Civil War re-enactors have constructed two huts
that look the way they would have during the war. On the third Saturday of every
month during the summer, the re-enactors return to continue building, using only
war-era tools. Twice a year, in April and August, Montpelier holds Civil War
weekends consisting of skirmishes and dress parades. The campsite trails are
open during the site’s operating hours, and an interpreter is stationed at the
Gilmore Cabin on weekends during the summer. Four times a year, Montpelier also
runs Civil War-themed tours of the estate and campsites.
“We wanted to interpret the camps as a way to highlight their relationship to
the battlefields,” Dr. Reeves said, “but also to bring in a story, related to
the common soldier’s experience.”
(11395 Constitution Highway, Montpelier Station, Va.; 540-672-2728;
montpelier.org)
White Oak
Museum
The best place to see the relics of winter camps is the White Oak Museum near
Fredericksburg. The museum, curated by D. P. Newton, contains an extensive array
of relics, the majority of which Mr. Newton and his father dug up from nearby
camps over 30 years: bullets, coins, glass bottles, buckles, guns and buttons.
“There’s a certain honesty to what you find in the ground,” said Stephen W.
Sylvia, publisher of North South Trader’s Civil War magazine and Civil War
Collector’s Price Guide. “And being the first to touch something when the last
hands were a soldier’s — it sends chills up your spine. It’s almost spiritual.”
One case in the museum houses bullets that bored soldiers carved into chess
pieces. Just off the entrance, an excavated corduroy road, made of logs, has
been reassembled. And in another room, tents are set up to reconstruct what camp
life was like.
“The same army at Gettysburg was encamped here,” explained Ann Rolls, a
volunteer. “This museum captures where they were, what they did, what air they
breathed, and what water they saw.”
(985 White Oak Road, Fredericksburg, Va.; 540-371-4234; whiteoakmuseum.com)
•
Bulldozers vs. Battlefields: Saving Civil War Sites
A century and a half ago, the battles in Virginia were fought between the Union
and the Confederacy. Now, battle lines have been drawn between preservationists
and developers. Virginia, where about 60 percent of the fighting during the
Civil War took place, is rapidly losing its battlefields to bulldozers. The
Battle of Salem Church, for example, has been reduced to a sea of highways and
strip malls. The only untouched parcel is Salem Church itself, today
cater-corner from a CVS.
“It used to be that the Rappahannock was the final bastion of defense, but even
that’s being crossed now,” said Stephen W. Sylvia, publisher of North South
Trader’s Civil War magazine.
On the other hand, according to Jim Campi, a spokesman for the Civil War Trust,
the sesquicentennial has brought greater interest in protecting Civil War sites
— in large part because it brings a greater potential for tourism.
“The more land that’s protected and interpreted, the longer people are going to
stay in local communities and the more money they’re going to spend,” he said.
The Trust works to buy the battlefields ranked as important by the Civil War
Sites Advisory Commission. Thus far, the Trust has preserved more than 30,000
acres nationwide.
Donations are accepted on the organization’s Web site, civilwar.org. (The state
of Virginia offers matching grants for preservation donations.)
Mr. Campi worries that the opportunity for saving battlefields is drawing to a
close. “Probably by the end of the sesquicentennial, either the land will have
been lost to development, or will be too expensive for privatization,” he said.
The National Park Service also buys Civil War sites, but only those within
boundaries that have been authorized by Congress. No legislation has been
introduced as of now to expand the boundaries at Fredericksburg and
Spotsylvania.
“This quite possibly could be the last time we could expand,” said Eric Mink, a
historian at Fredericksburg and Spotsylvania National Military Park. “In 10 or
20 years these sites won’t be available for preservation, with the way things
are developing now.”
In Virginia, Touring Lesser-Known Civil War Sites, NYT,
29.4.2011,
http://travel.nytimes.com/2011/05/01/travel/01journeys-civilwar.html
36 Hours in Richmond
October 18, 2009
The New York Times
By JUSTIN BERGMAN
AS the heart of the old Confederacy, Richmond, Va., watched
with envy as other cities like Atlanta and Charlotte became the economic and
cultural pillars of the New South. But Richmond may finally be having its big
moment: a building boom in the last few years has seen century-old tobacco
warehouses transformed into lofts and art studios. Chefs are setting up kitchens
in formerly gritty neighborhoods, and the city’s buttoned-up downtown suddenly
has life after dusk, thanks to new bars, a just-opened hotel and a performing
arts complex, Richmond CenterStage. Richmond is strutting with confidence,
moving beyond its Civil War legacy and emerging as a new player on the Southern
art and culinary scene.
Friday
5 p.m.
1) SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE
The tattooed artsy crowd may have moved on, but serious shoppers and people
watchers are still drawn to Carytown’s half-mile stretch of boutiques, vintage
clothing stores and cafes. This colorful strip is Richmond at its most eclectic,
from floppy-haired musicians, to gay hipsters with pierced eyebrows, to mothers
from the West End suburbs pushing strollers. Check out local T-shirt designs at
the Need Supply Company (3010 West Cary Street; 804-355-5880;
www.needsupply.com ). Peruse the retro
ball gowns, tiaras and cigarette cases at Bygones (2916 West Cary Street;
804-353-1919; www.bygonesvintage.com
). Or seek Japanese anime, underground graphic novels and comics at Chop Suey
Books (2913 West Cary Street; 804-422-8066;
www.chopsueybooks.com ).
8 p.m.
2) FRESH DIRECT
The locavore food movement was late in coming to Richmond, but residents have
taken to it in a big way at the perpetually packed, year-old Mezzanine (3433
West Cary Street; 804-353-2186;
www.mezzanine3433.com ). The head chef, Todd Johnson, is particular about
his produce, meats and seafood, handpicking the Virginia farmers and fishermen
he buys from. The ever-changing, seven-foot-tall chalkboard menu recently
included green curry quinoa with gingered bok choy and oyster mushrooms ($16)
and tempura soft-shell crabs in a tomato and cucumber broth ($25). A downside:
the outdoor patio looks out over a pair of glowing golden arches across the
street.
10 p.m.
3) CASH BAR
Richmonders used to flee downtown for the suburbs come 6 p.m. But these days,
the capital’s young politicos gather at Bank (1005 East Main Street;
804-648-3070; www.bankandvault.com ),
a century-old bank that’s been transformed into a swank night spot, complete
with a bar made with the building’s original marble, a martini lounge in the old
president’s office and a cavernous downstairs club, Vault. Eavesdrop at the bar
and you might pick up some juicy political gossip about Gov. Tim Kaine.
Saturday
10:30 a.m.
4) A ‘HARLEM’ RENAISSANCE
The historic African-American neighborhood of Jackson Ward was so prosperous
after the Civil War that it was known as the Harlem of the South. Then came a
long decline that left its streets riddled with empty storefronts. Of course, it
wasn’t long before artists moved in. Now, P.B.R.-swilling students from nearby
Virginia Commonwealth University descend for First Friday gallery hops. For an
art walk of your own, start at Gallery5 (200 West Marshall Street; 804-644-0005;
www.gallery5arts.org ), in a
mid-19th-century building that used to be Virginia’s oldest fire station. Also
worthwhile is Quirk (311 West Broad Street; 804-644-5450;
www.quirkgallery.com ), which has
offbeat offerings, as its name suggests.
Noon
5) TASTE OF HAVANA
Don’t expect to find amazing ethnic food in Richmond — this is fried okra
country, not an immigrant town. The one exception is Kuba Kuba (1601 Park
Avenue; 804-355-8817; www.kubakuba.info
), a hole-in-the-wall cafe founded by a Cuban émigré, Manny Mendez. The dishes
are authentic up to a point — pressed Cuban sandwiches with roast pork, ham,
Swiss cheese and mustard ($6.95) share the menu with Spanish paellas ($17.95) —
but Richmonders line up just as much for the straight-out-of-Havana vibe. The
waitresses sway to Cuban music, and Kuba Kuba also doubles as a bodega: after
lunch, load up on Café Bustelo and Our Lady of Guadalupe candles.
2 p.m.
6) THREE-SIDED WAR
Even if you are not a history buff, a trip to Richmond wouldn’t be complete
without learning something about the Civil War, still known by a few die-hards
as the War of Northern Aggression. The American Civil War Center at Historic
Tredegar (500 Tredegar Street; 804-780-1865; www.tredegar.org; $8 entry) takes a
less pro-Southern approach. The interactive museum, opened three years ago,
tells the story of the war from three perspectives: that of the Union, the
Confederacy and the slaves. The museum itself is a giant relic, housed in the
old 1861 Tredegar Gun Foundry, a major munitions factory during the war.
3:30 p.m.
7) INTO THE TREES
Need to shake off post-museum torpor? How about maneuvering through the trees
like Tarzan? Across the river in the Stratford Hills section, trained
instructors at Riverside Outfitters (6836 Old Westham Road; 804-560-0068;
www.riversideoutfitters.net) lead groups on tree-climbing expeditions along the
James River that include harnessed walks along limbs 40 feet above the ground
and zip-lines. They claim it’s easy enough for a 6-year-old to do it — albeit on
smaller trees. The rates vary, but start at $150 for two hours for these five or
fewer.
7 p.m.
8) HAUTE HOME COOKIN’
Trust Steve Jurina, owner of the industrial-chic bistro LuLu’s (21 North 17th
Street; 804-343-9771, www.lu-lusrichmond.com), to get comfort food right. He was
the longtime chef at Millie’s Diner, revered by locals for its nap-inducing
Sunday brunches and down-home atmosphere. LuLu’s is a gussied-up version of
Millie’s for the polo-shirt-wearing yuppies who’ve snapped up lofts in the
renovated tobacco warehouses in Shockoe Bottom, one of Richmond’s most historic
neighborhoods. Arrive early to grab a bamboo booth, and start with the tasty
crab and lobster fritters ($11) before moving on to the High-Falootin’ Mac and
Cheese, made with white Cheddar, Parmesan and Gorgonzola and topped with grilled
shrimp ($20). For over-the-top gluttony, order the deep-dish chocolate and
peanut butter pie ($5) for dessert.
9 p.m.
9) TUNES AND TATTS
Escape Shockoe Bottom before the clubs start to fill up — it is party central
for drunken college kids on weekends. A less raucous spot can be found uptown at
the Camel (1621 West Broad Street; 804-353-4901;
www.thecamel.org ), which is establishing
itself as the premier venue to catch up-and-coming Southern rock and bluegrass
bands, acoustic singer-songwriters, and jazz and funk musicians. If it’s an off
night, go down the street to Empire (727 West Broad Street; 804-344-3323), a
dive bar near V.C.U. where sleeve tattoos are part of the informal dress code.
Sunday
11 a.m.
10) BATTLE OF THE BRUNCH
There’s a new war being waged at the Black Sheep (901 West Marshall Street;
804-648-1300; www.theblacksheeprva.com), a cozy restaurant with barn-wood
wainscoting and church pews for benches. Brave eaters have attacked all six
two-foot-long subs, each named after a Civil War-era ship, in what the menu
calls “The War of Northern Ingestion.” Served on French baguettes, the CSS
Virginia is topped with fried chicken livers, shredded cabbage and apples ($12),
while the USS Brooklyn has jerk barbecued chicken and banana ketchup ($14). A
warning: each behemoth can feed at least two.
1 p.m.
11) ART FACTORY
Once an industrial wasteland across the river, the Manchester neighborhood has
emerged as an arts district with more loft apartments. The anchor is the former
MeadWestvaco packaging plant, which has been turned into a huge art complex with
75 studios and three galleries. Stroll through the mazelike Art Works (320 Hull
Street; 804-291-1400;
www.artworksrichmond.com ), where artists sell their works, many for under
$200. Then head to Legend Brewery (321 West Seventh Street; 804-232-3446;
www.legendbrewing.com ), order a pint
of Oktoberfest or the other seven brews on the deck, and take in the view of a
city making up for lost time.
THE BASICS
Delta, JetBlue, US Airways and other carriers offer nonstop flights between New
York and Richmond. Nonstop round-trip fares later this month start at $147,
according to a recent Web search.
A car is the best option for getting around; buses run infrequently and don’t
reach every part of the city.
The Jefferson Hotel (101 West Franklin Street; 800-424-8014;
www.jeffersonhotel.com ) defined
luxury when it opened in 1895, and it hasn’t lost any of its luster, with its
stained-glass domed skylight and 262 rooms decorated with reproduction Southern
antiques. Doubles from $235 a night.
Housed in an old department store, the Hilton Garden Inn Richmond (501 East
Broad Street; 804-344-4300;
www.hiltongardeninn.hilton.com ) reopened in February following a two-year
renovation. Doubles from $99 a night.
36 Hours in Richmond,
NYT, 18.10.2009,
http://travel.nytimes.com/2009/10/18/travel/18hours.html
36 Hours in Williamsburg, Va.
June 7, 2009
The New York Times
By JOSHUA KURLANTZICK
ONCE the preserve of eighth-grade field trips and history re-enactors,
Williamsburg, Va., with its restored Colonial District, has become in recent
years a much more rounded — and upscale — experience. Local chefs raised on both
grits and Asian ginger have adapted traditional Southern cooking and native
ingredients to create more exotic combinations. Virginia wineries, once scorned,
produce high-quality vintages, while the central district of Williamsburg is
known not only for stark Colonial homes but also for a lavish spa and upscale
folk-art shops. Of course, if you want to see a staging of Patrick Henry’s “Give
Me Liberty, or Give Me Death!” speech, or stick your head in the stocks, that’s
still an option.
Friday
4 p.m.
1) WINE DOWN
Once consigned to the bargain bin of wine shops, Virginia wines now hold their
own in global wine competitions, and the Williamsburg Winery, a few miles from
the Colonial District (5800 Wessex Hundred Road; 757-229-0999;
www.williamsburgwinery.com ), is
one of the largest in the state. Its chardonnays — particularly the fruity, oaky
Acte 12 chardonnay — have won much acclaim from critics. On a spring afternoon,
attend a tasting ($8 and $30) and then head over to the adjacent tavern for a
light snack.
7 p.m.
2) PITT STOP
Southerners can argue about barbecue with the same spirit they exhibit for
college football, and Virginia-style barbecue is certainly worthy of a heated
debate. It’s tends to be smokier and milder than North Carolina’s vinegary,
tangy approach. In the Williamsburg area, Pierce’s Pitt Bar-B-Que (447 East
Rochambeau; 757-565-2955; www.pierces.com )
is a local legend. The smell of smoking meat wafts out of the restaurant and
even pervades a nearby stretch of highway. At all times of the day, the parking
lot is packed with crowds clambering for barbecue sandwiches (from $3.79) and
full racks of ribs ($18.99). Pork rules, but Pierce’s also serves chicken,
salads, buttery corn bread and homemade carrot and lemon pound cakes. (But
beware, if you ask for a chicken salad, the waiter might think you’re nuts.)
9 p.m.
3) WALK IT OFF
Though most visitors stay in one of the many upscale hotels surrounding the
Colonial District, by far the most interesting and mostly unknown lodging option
is actually to stay in a restored home, tavern or other structure in the
colonial area. These Colonial House accommodations (800-447-8679;
www.history.org ) are simple, and that
means no 21st-century luxuries like wireless access. When asked recently if
there was Internet service in the rooms, a reservations agent replied: “Uh, no.
They didn’t have that in the 18th century.” After dinner, take a leisurely
stroll through the historic heart of the district, dead quiet once all the
tourists have left.
Saturday
10 a.m.
4) BACK IN TIME
It’s best to check out the Colonial buildings and re-enactments in the morning,
before the heat and humidity and tourist buses arrive (one-day passes are
$34.95; $17.45 for ages 6 to 17). Colonial Williamsburg This Week, a free print
publication, contains up-to-date listings of re-enactments, but don’t miss the
Governor’s Palace, home to royal governors (and Patrick Henry) and the Bruton
Parish Church (one of the oldest Episcopal churches in America). And look for
re-enactors who are engaged in political debates. which tend to be less stilted
than other re-enactments.
Noon
5) THE PEOPLE’S ART
Abby Aldrich Rockefeller was one of the earliest patrons of American folk art,
and her collection, housed in the Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Folk Art Museum (325
West Francis Street;
www.history.org/history/museums ; $9.95 or $4.95 for children, without a
park pass), showcases the immense diversity of the genre. The collection ranges
from staid family portraits to whimsical sculptures of watermelons to elegiac
paintings of Christ that resemble the works of El Greco. Because folk art is
less well known than, say, Picasso’s, take a docent-guided tour of the
collection.
3 p.m.
6) MERCHANTS OF AMERICANA
More than just a purveyor of cider mugs and souvenir tricorner hats, Merchants
Square, on the west end of the Colonial District, also serves up unusual — and
often pricey — antiques, quilts, silver and other American crafts. Try the Nancy
Thomas Gallery of Folk Art (407 West Duke of Gloucester Street; 757-259-1938;
www.nancythomas.com) or J. Fenton Modern American Crafts (110 South Henry
Street; 757-221-8200;
www.quiltsunlimited.com ) for updated interpretations — in jewelry, clothing
and other formats — of the quirky traditions of folk art found in the
Rockefeller collection. When you get hungry for lunch, grab a gourmet sandwich
at the Cheese Shop (410 West Duke of Gloucester Street; 757-220-1324) on the
square.
5 p.m.
7) OLD-TIME PAMPERING
Exhausted from a long day of walking and shopping? A visit to the Spa of
Colonial Williamsburg (307 South England Street; 800-688-6479;
www.colonialwilliamsburgresort.com/spa ) might just be what you need. Right
in the Colonial District, the spa serves the usual menu of treatments, but in
keeping with the history theme, it also offers a twist: packages based on
practices from the early days of American history, like an 18th-century
treatment with colonial-era herbs like pennyroyal, sage, rosemary, angelica and
juniper berries ($265 a person for two hours).
7 p.m.
8) FAT SATURDAY
Situated right on Merchants Square, Fat Canary (410 West Duke of Gloucester
Street; 757-229-3333) quickly has established itself far above the touristy
joints in the heart of Colonial Williamsburg, which tend to serve mediocre
pub-style food in traditional alehouse atmosphere. In suave, Art Deco-looking
surroundings, Fat Canary serves nouvelle cuisine that mixes local with
innovative takes, resulting in combinations like crispy cornmeal oysters with
charred tomato and free-range pheasant with polenta, pine nuts and pancetta.
Reservations are essential. Dinner for two without wine is around $100.
Sunday
9 a.m.
9) TAKE A DRIVE
You have to drive only a few miles outside Colonial Williamsburg, past the mall
sprawl, to appreciate the rural character of much of the area. Head onto the
23-mile-long Colonial Parkway, a winding, wooded road connecting Williamsburg,
Jamestown and Yorktown. With a low speed limit, it’s perfect for a mellow tour,
stopping at scenic turnouts to check out the York and James Rivers.
Noon
10) BOTTOMS UP
In colonial times, Williamsburg was known as much for drinking as for debating —
taverns served as meeting places, the perfect setting for wielding influence in
the powerful Virginia colony. The restored Colonial District features four
working taverns — all serving lunch, dinner or both — striving to recreate an
authentic atmosphere. Most feature similar workaday fare like sandwiches and
local seafood, but the ambience can’t be beat. Try Chownings Tavern (109 East
Duke of Gloucester Street; 757-229-2141) for lunch — its garden tables offer
views of Market Square and the Governor’s Palace (it does not take
reservations). From lunch, it’s an easy walk to the lavish Peyton Randolph House
and other central Colonial homes. Lunch for two is around $30 without drinks.
THE BASICS
Though Williamsburg has a small airport, it is most easily reached by air to the
nearby hubs of Norfolk or Richmond, both of which have nonstop flights from New
York. A recent online search for flights in June found round-trip fares from New
York-area airports starting at $119 to Richmond and at $137 to Norfolk on
several airlines, including JetBlue.
Alternatively, Williamsburg is a three- to-four-hour drive from Washington,
depending on traffic, and Amtrak stops in Williamsburg as well.
Spring is a good time to visit, before Virginia’s sticky summer. It’s also the
best season if you plan a side trip to the Busch Gardens theme park, three miles
east of Williamsburg (800-772-8886;
www.buschgardens.com ): lines are shorter and you can actually find parking.
Single-day admissions to Busch Gardens start at $59.95, $49.95 for ages 3 to 9;
parking is $12.
Especially for first-time visitors with children, staying in one of the Colonial
Houses for at least one night is worth the dearth of fancy accommodations. Rooms
tend to have TVs and phones and grandmother-esque furnishings, but not much
else. Reservations can be made by calling (800) 447-8679. Starting prices range
from $159 for a room in a tavern to over $300 for a two-bedroom house, depending
on the season.
If Colonial homes aren’t your thing, try the Williamsburg Inn (136 East Francis
Street; 800-447-8679;
www.colonialwilliamsburgresort.com ). Built in 1937, it is a National Trust
Historic Hotel and offers a central location in the colonial heart, as well as
Wi-Fi, an indoor pool and all those other comforts they somehow did without in
the 18th century. In June, there is limited weekend availability, with double
rooms starting about $400, based on a recent search on the hotel’s Web site.
Those staying on site in the Colonial District pay admission of $29.95, $14.95
for children, good for the length of their stay.
36 Hours in
Williamsburg, Va., NYT, 7.6.2009,
http://travel.nytimes.com/2009/06/07/travel/07hours.html
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