:-/

Jen, Vinny, and I all went up to the Cape last weekend to see my aunt and her family.  Originally the trip was planned as a chance for Sean to collect oysters (it was the last weekend of the season) but he had to back out because he had too much work.  We still went, though, plucking gross-looking, briny-smelling, barnacle-covered oysters from the muck of low tide.  Honestly, I don't know who ever thought of trying to eat these suckers, or how they even realized they could be opened (Despite the Christmas gifts of oyster glove and knife, Sean still managed to wound himself once I brought the precious treats home, and my uncle cut himself right there at the water just by holding them in his hand).  I had a really good time, even with my sister's, you know, very presence.  I really enjoy my aunt and uncle's company, and I enjoy my cousins, Sara and Tyler.  We didn't spend that much time together when we were younger, and once we were all entering teen years I feel like we barely spoke, but now that we're all adults it's like discovering new and interesting people for the first time.

My aunt had mentioned a persistent pain in her hip that she'd already been seeing doctors about, which no one could explain.  Someone in her office had decided to be that person and basically tell her "it's cancer, here's a test you need to ask for."  Donna was polite, and didn't tell them she'd already had that test, that they'd taken CAT scans and bloodwork, etc.  She was scheduled to go back to the doctor on Monday for some more tests, and it turned out to be lymphoma.  She was given the diagnosis on Wednesday, though they still haven't told her which variant she has.  She will have to undergo chemo and radiation, and, typical Donna, she told me on the phone yesterday that she'd have started first thing Thursday if she could have!  I love Donna's attitude about most things, and I told her, she's got the best attitude one could ask for from a patient, a mixture of cheerfulness and pragmatism.  As it happens, one of my uncle's longtime clients is the chairman of the board of Dana Farber, so he went to talk to him yesterday, and my my aunt's going to be seeing the very best specialist they have.

I had left my phone in the car on Friday night, and Saturday morning when I went grocery shopping it appeared to be dead.  I forgot it in the car again.  Saturday evening I called Jen to make sure she had received my email about Easter, and she sounded so dour.  She wouldn't tell me at first, saying it "wasn't her place", but finally she did, swearing me, naturally, not to tell Donna (Jen gets weirdly fixated on protocol sometimes; if Donna told you, and left me a voicemail to call her, so that she could also tell me, why would you think we have to keep it secret from each other??).  When I called my aunt, she asked if I'd talked to my sister and said she had something to tell me, and I was like "nope, already taken care of, you don't have to break it to me" and she burst out laughing and said "oh thank God!"  I mean, how many times do you really want to have to give people the "I have cancer" talk?

I also talked to Janice, who Donna had informed me was already trying to "manage" things, in her Janice way, from Arizona.  Within a day she'd already mustered all the Rhode Island cousins and aunts, for example, and read more info on lymphoma than Donna had.  Janice told me that Donna had considered waiting till after Jen's shower in a couple of weeks to tell us, but Janice had advised her to go ahead, with the caveat "tell Michelle first."  Haha.  Whoops.  But I knew that it would be difficult for Janice--her life in AZ is not that great, she's got one unpleasant lump of a sick husband and one ungrateful lump of a gun-obsessed son.  She relies a lot on Donna (in fact, Donna and I had talked, a couple of months ago, about how depressed Janice seemed, and Donna told me that she was shocked when Janice informed her sister that she wasn't giving her the emotional validation that she needed; specifically, she needed my aunt to tell her that she was being a good wife and mother and making the right choice to live in AZ), so it's going to be hard on her as well, since she'll probably feel like she can't talk about her problems--even though Donna, I know, would prefer nothing to be different!  When Janice was telling me "well, I know now I have to be really strong for her" I was laughing to myself thinking, "welllll, your sister doesn't want you to be that strong" because Donna had already complained about it.  Sisters!

Anyway, Jen is coming here in a few hours, and I fear that she's going to be really unpleasant and depressed.  I feel like an asshole for saying this, but Jen always takes these things as much to heart as if it were happening to her.  When Janice decided to move, for example, Jen felt that as a personal affront, that one of her only relatives was daring to move away, and I swear she is still holding that as a grudge!  I mean, illness happens, and I will firmly trust that Donna will be OK until I hear otherwise; she will certainly have the best care, and she's got the best attitude.  But I suspect Jen perceives this in terms of how it would affect her if something happened to Donna.  Again, this probably makes me sound like a jerk, but Jen is really unpleasant when she's moody.  She might make the punch-me face!  She might cry!  God, if she cries over Mom today because of this (especially after my father's 14th anniversary, on Tuesday, got zero acknowledgment), I don't know what I'll do.  Drink more, probably!

It's Official!

Last Thursday night was the Rome Prize award ceremony in NYC, and it was a blast.  Linda and I took the train in together in the afternoon, since I had to have my photo taken at AAR's office.  I wasn't expecting to be plunged into scholarly "on" mode as soon as we walked in the door, but there were a whole bunch of Rome Prize winners crowded into the main office waiting to have their pictures taken, and many of them were definitely "on".  I was expecting basic, polite chit-chat, but instead people were launching into detailed explanations of their research projects or their art forms and whatnot.  One very nice, but very talkative man, John, had my ear for a good 20 minutes or so.

After the photo we were free for a bit, so we grabbed lunch at a diner recommended by the doormen, and spent an all-too-brief half hour walking in Central Park.  It amazes me how little of Central Park I've ever really seen.  Mostly I think I've been around the Metropolitan in the mid-80s, but AAR's office is on 60th and 5th ave, right at the bottom right corner where the park begins, with a skating rink for winter, a dairy, and the zoo.  Although it was windy, the sun was out and the air smelled fresh, so we were reluctant to go back inside for the next event, which turned out to be a sort of informal introduction to Academy life by the CEO, Mark Robbins, and the outgoing director, Chris Celenza, who were as funny as a comedy duo, riffing off each other.

Then it was time to cross the street to the elaborate Harmonie Club, where Dr. Cooper and Tim were waiting.  Coop and Linda were delighted with each other, which was great, since I had to sit separately with the other prize winners.  By this time I'd met several very friendly fellow-Fellows, including Lakshmi and Heather, both classicists; Denise, a modern Italian studies historian; and Liz, a novelist.  I had also begun to realize how few of the Rome Prize fellows are pre-doctoral students--most of the winners seemed to be established scholars working on book projects.  The ceremony itself was full of speeches about how we all represented the peak of excellent in our fields, etc.etc., and while it felt awesome to be included in this group, it's also like: "How is it that I, who haven't written a word of my dissertation project, am being discussed in the same breath as people who have multiple books and tenure track jobs?  I haven't even DONE anything yet!"

During the reception, which was a mob scene, I spoke with David Stone from UDel, who has spoken at Temple before (and didn't remember me, though we had dinner with him); he's one of the trustees.  Dr. Cooper introduced me to Jack Wasserman, one of the founding members of Temple's art history department.  He and his wife must be filthy rich, because they divide their time between Society Hill in Philly and Rome, just a short distance from the Academy!  They insisted I need to come to their place when I get settled, and his wife informed me "I'll make you scrambled eggs!"  Very specific, but also very generous.  I also saw members of my Prize committee, Diane Cole Ahl and Ellen Rosand (DR, alas, wasn't able to come), as well as Mary Frank, who is on the board and one of PFB's alumnae from Princeton.

It was great to have Linda there with me.  Initially when she offered to go, knowing Sean, with a QP to present in the morning, wouldn't be able to, I told her not to bother, because I figured it would be weird for her, but she had a great time.  She and Coop both liked each other (Coop told me she knows where Sean gets his charm now), and like everyone else in the room she was absolutely blown away by the lecture, by John Ochsendorf from MIT on historic conservation of structures and Guastavino-style vaulting.  Originally appearing in Moorish architecture, this vaulting system uses thin bricks that are more like tiles, placed end-to-end instead of vertically like in a  Roman vault, and secured only with mortar into broad, low vaults that are incredibly strong despite their lack of load-bearing supports.  An Italian emigrant named Guastavino brought the technique to the US, and his vaults appear in buildings all over the country, including the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in NYC and Yale's own Bicentennial Hall.   While in Rome, he discovered that the Academy's dining patio had this kind of vaulting above it, and in order to study and stress-test it, Ochsendorf constructed a huge replica in his AAR studio and then load-tested by having other fellows come hop up and down on it!

All in all, a fun, though exhausting day.  Now it's all out in the open, woohoo!

A Long, Lovely Weekend in New York

I had a great time at RSA a week or so ago.  San Diego was too far to travel last year, but NYC is practically in my backyard, relatively speaking; in fact, it was being held at the same Hilton where I attended my very first conference in 2007 as a college senior, just trying to get a sense of what the academic world was like on the advice of my then-adviser, Jesus.  That conference was CAA, the bigger, rougher, discipline-wide conference for all art historians; RSA, though no less crowded or fast-paced is widely considered to be a friendlier environment.  What can I say, we early modernists are just nice folk all around...

I actually delayed registering for the conference until the very last minute in December.  At the time I felt so uncertain about my future in the field: what if I was paying $150 for a conference I'd be too depressed to go to, if I got rejected from all of my grant applications?  Happily, the reverse was true; once I was freshly injected with self-confidence by news of the grants I'd won, I started actually looking forward to the conference, not only to see my friends and Dr. Cooper, but to actually talk to other scholars--the dreaded "networking"!

It's part of the curious calculus practiced by conference attendees that everyone is perpetually flicking their gazes at the chests of the people around them, trying to get a glimpse of the all-important name tag.  If your name isn't recognizable to them, your institutional affiliation is the next best thing.  Having an Ivy League school listed under your name is likely going to net you a slightly different reception than someone from the University of Iowa--but on the other hand, your interlocutor may know someone on the faculty at UI, or have gone there, factors that will also influence how willing they may be to take time to talk to you.  Then there's the weight of your adviser; Temple may not be an Ivy, but among Venetianists Dr. Cooper happens to be a heavyweight, so that connection works well in my favor.

She's also deeply committed to networking, enough so that when I spotted her on the first morning, she greeted me, kissed me on both cheeks, and then immediately pushed me at Ed Muir, one of most venerable Venetian historians.  Did I mention we hadn't met in person for an actual year?  Or that I did not in fact have anything specific to talk to Muir about?   The longest words I exchanged with her were during the closing reception after I told her I'd have to head out.  At one point Jasmine complained that she felt Coop was ignoring her, but nope, it was all of us.  Dr. Cooper is most on her game in a crowd of people, all of whom she can instantly remember in terms of first meeting, subject of research, useful connections for her students, etc. etc.  It's both impressive and a bit frightening. 

This conference marked the first time I've felt confident introducing myself to scholars without Coop's aegis.  It is amazing what the knowledge of a Rome Prize can do for the self-confidence, as well as the awareness that people really do find my research topic interesting!  I was also happy to realize that I've begun making connections beyond the Temple web of students or friends of Coop's; I ran into Colin, a guy from the University of Toronto I met in Venice a couple of years ago, at the first session, and also Marsha, a girl from Johns Hopkins who was at Middlebury with me.  As it turns out she's writing her dissertation on Sebastiano del Piombo, a Venetian who transferred to Rome and became BFFs with Michelangelo for a few years before they had a nasty falling-out.  We've discussed sponsoring a panel together at the next RSA meeting in Berlin (convenient that I'll already be in Europe).

Among the Temple students, I will admit, I felt like something of a rock star.  Cooper and Hall have apparently been touting my achievements, though all is still officially hush-hush until this week's award ceremony, and there was a certain sense of awe among the younger students.  Even super-intense Tiffany, who I went to great lengths to avoid last year in Rome, didn't bother me overmuch.  Brad, though, I found as annoyingly intense as ever (I made a joke about how Dr. Hall flat-out told me she'd forgotten about me last fall, and he responded, very seriously, "but aren't you concerned about that?  Having left?"  Um, fuck you very much, I think I've done alright. How are your nine proposal drafts and conspicuous lack of grants coming?)  Another example of my gleeful schadenfreude: one of our lunches included a girl who did her master's at Temple in my group and then went to UDel for her PhD.  I never liked her, as she always seemed very sneakily competitive, so it amused me to hear her mention excitedly that a friend of hers had just won the Kress to the Hertziana.  You mean the fellowship I turned down for my awesome-r Rome Prize?  Muahaha.  I didn't say anything, obviously, but the evil laughter was definitely in my thoughts. 

Finally and at last, I also no longer feel in Jasmine's shadow.  I don't even really mind the certain sense of know-it-all ness that she brings to all things Rome.  Well, maybe I do a little.  Let's see, so far she's informed me that the Academy library is far inferior to the Hertziana's, so I'll want to use the latter's all the time (which is true), that Academy people are insular and pretentious (which could definitely be true), and that most of the fellows tend to stay up on the hill and not be out in the city (which could also be true).  Jasmine is never being malicious, just sharing her experience, but a few times I thought to myself "my fellowship is more prestigious than yours and you can't get a job, so pipe down!"  I am a terrible person, sometimes, especially in the privacy of my thoughts.  To her credit, she did introduce me to the head of the Minerva research project at the BH, and to an Italian post-doc there, Elena, who also previously held an affiliated Rome Prize.  She told me that one of the perks of the Academy is that they pick you up in a black SUV from the airport (which is extra awesome since I will have god knows how many bags with me).  The BH doesn't do that, do they?  Fuck yeah.

The other fantastic thing that happened at the conference was meeting Ellen Rosand, who told me bluntly that she had nothing to do with my winning the Rome Prize, and that my interview was simply the best one she'd ever seen.  Wow.  She went on to say that she'd "had a feeling" everything would work out after meeting me in January.  Interestingly, from the same event, Pat Brown told Dr. Cooper that she was very impressed with how I presented myself.  (I don't know exactly what I was doing that was so great, clutching my glass of prosecco like a lifeline as I circulated aimlessly in a room in which the only people I knew were the important folk everyone else was trying to talk to at the same time. But I will keep on trying to do it).

Ellen apparently also approached Coop to tell her the same thing about me later, because Coop told me at the reception that I must have really impressed her.  She confirmed my suspicious that she'd not a terribly warm woman in general.  So different from her husband, who seemed very frail at the first panel where I saw them both.  Afterward I went over to say hello, where he was sitting with another Titian scholar, Matthias Wivel, to whom I'd introduced myself earlier in the day, and he actually stopped talking to him to stand up and talk to me (while I was urging him to stay seated, since the poor man was leaning on a cane).  He told me with a chuckle that it was probably for the best he hadn't written for me, since Ellen would have had to recuse herself from my committee, and that he was really looking forward to seeing me develop.  I thanked him, but inwardly I couldn't get away from how frail he seemed. 

This has been a very long post, but I wanted to leave something to remind me of this conference, which felt like a kind of turning point for me, as I start to take my place in the community of scholars, instead of lingering nervously at the fringes, afraid to approach anyone.  This time there were no walks in the sunshine with my friends like in DC two years ago, or drinking bottles of wine in our hotel rooms in the late afternoon, but it was an awesome experience!