Pittsburgh Sights

City Steps in 4-Mile Run


Entrance to Panther Hollow Trail


Barge on the Mon

Now for a bit of shameless promotion

Exhibit shows neighborhoods through neighbors' eyes

By Kurt Shaw
TRIBUNE-REVIEW ART CRITIC
Sunday, August 24, 2008

"Seeing Pittsburgh" is a photography exhibit like none before. It focuses on Pittsburgh and its neighborhoods, but from the perspective of everyday inhabitants -- in essence, making a few neighbors among many photojournalists for a day. story continues below


Forty-four in all were assigned the project of capturing the unique qualities of each specific locale. Some of the results among the nearly 100 images on display are historically significant, some cultural and others simply a slice of life. "We made a real attempt to find different types of Pittsburghers to participate -- children and senior citizens, those who have been in the community for their entire lives and those who have recently arrived," says Ron Baraff, director of Museum Collections and Archives. "The focus wasn't on who could take the best picture, but on how average residents view their neighborhood and their city." Case in point, Christine Bethea's grainy photographs of her Hill District neighborhood, eight in all, are nowhere near the high-quality prints one would expect to find in an art exhibit. But that's because they were all taken with her cell phone. Beautifully arranged, one atop the other in almost film-like fashion, they allow the eye to move from various vignettes captured in and around Bethea's neighborhood as if watching a documentary video: three boys on bicycles, a pit bull sleeping on a porch, a chained up security door. Although it was impossible to include all 90 Pittsburgh neighborhoods in the bordering suburban communities, the goal was to present a diverse sampling of the types of neighborhoods found in the region. Post-industrial neighborhoods like Lawrenceville and the South Side are represented in kitsch-like fashion. Lawrenceville is seen through candy-colored images, such as an interior shot of a shop selling tchochkes by Elise Deluca or a group of passionate priests, taken by fellow Father Don Ware. South Side is seen via vibrant snapshots of equally vibrant stops along Carson Street, taken by Joyce Baronett and Cyril Esser. Point Breeze is representative of the early "suburb within the city" for which it was known. Its identity is further emphasized with a fall shot of Frick Park by Julina Golze. Forest Hills, once a very working-class suburb, is set in a historical light via Sam Lee's foreboding photograph of the atom smasher at the former Westinghouse facility. Looking at the exhibit from a holistic perspective, some threads of consistency seem to rise above others. Some are basic, like the Belgium block streets that run through many Pittsburgh neighborhoods, presented here in images of both Lawrenceville and Beechview captured by Langston MacDiarmid and Max Hurwitz, respectively. Some are more complex, such as the inner workings of a successful community as seen in Sandy Saban's "Fire Truck Blessing," taken at a McKees Rocks firehouse. Here, a priest with piercing eyes makes for a compelling focal point among a few proud fire chiefs. A real standout among all the images on display are Terrence Murphy's photographs of the hard living and the semi-homeless life of a few folks on the North Side, mainly because they represent a different perspective of life on Pittsburgh's streets. In one, a young homeless man named "Dano" holds a cardboard sign on which he wrote "Hungry, Ugly, Broke. Anything Helps," offering both poignant commentary and a bit of wry wit. The exhibit itself is further enhanced by displays created by Ashley Hodder and Michelle Gregio that represent each of the neighborhoods presented. For example, photographs of McKees Rocks are surrounded by railroad tracks. Images of Squirrel Hill -- among which is a shot of a fruit stand by Melanie Groves -- are dispersed among a makeshift fruit stand made with fake fruit. All of the Beechview shots are tastefully arranged on a mock trolley, smaller than a real one, but rather sizable nonetheless. Interspersed among these various displays are supplemental video clips of interviews with the photographers. The interviews allow visitors to hear more about the photographers' ideas about Pittsburgh and their individual neighborhoods. "It's more of a sociological story than an art exhibit," says Tiffani Emig, curator of collections at Rivers of Steel. She, along with Baraff, put together a remarkable catalog for this exhibition that features nearly every photograph in the exhibition along with quotes by each of the amateur photographers. Their portraits and short bios are included. Available for $15.95 at the Bost Building or online, it's almost as good as this must-see exhibit, which will remain on view well past the holidays. Kurt Shaw can be reached at kshaw@tribweb.com.

Very Cool Post Gazette op-ed

What I learned in college

Absence makes the heart grow fonder for Pittsburgh

Saturday, August 23, 2008

By Sam Hornak

When I left Pittsburgh four short years ago for college in Washington, D.C., I could not wait to leave town. As a native Pittsburgher, I have always -- and will always -- love my hometown. But I was eager to see something different. I was hungry for something new.

As I drove to the nation's capital in a minivan full of clothes, kitchen appliances and two apprehensive parents, I had no idea what awaited me in a new city. I left home in search of a new perspective, and I learned many things about life and myself during my time at college. What I never expected was that in my four years in Washington, I would learn so much about Pittsburgh. For instance:

I learned that the Steelers are my team, win or lose.

After four years of riding the efficient and convenient Washington Metro, I learned that Pittsburgh's residents will never get anywhere, literally or metaphorically, until the region updates its transportation infrastructure.

I learned that salaries tend to be higher in the nation's capital, but there is no low-cost lifestyle like that of Pittsburgh. Eat'n Park is great because you do not have to pay an arm and a leg for a decent dinner out. Plus, there are no smiley cookies in Washington.

I learned during four years of class discussions that people from other parts of the country do not truly understand Pittsburgh. Their image is either a mistaken view of a city full of elderly people or a time-frozen portrait of a smoky steel town. Obviously they have seen neither Sidney Crosby's Penguins nor the South Side on a Friday night.

I learned that we as Pittsburghers do not do enough to market the truth about our city. In reality, marketing should be easy, because ...

I have learned that virtually everyone has an aunt, cousin or friend from Western Pennsylvania. I cannot describe how many people I have met who have a tangential relationship with our region. After a holiday visit to Pittsburgh, the most common refrain I hear from these individuals is, "Wow, I was really surprised to see how cool your city is ..."

I always thought that you needed to live in our city to love it. I have learned that a weekend in the 'Burgh is enough to convince many folks that it would be a great place to live.

I have learned that our city is peopled with ... well, great people. Having spent my whole life in the Steel City, I took it as a matter of course that you should smile at people on the street and hold the door for a stranger. I always learned that you must help someone if they drop their wallet, and you should actually care about the views of the person on the opposite side of a conversation. I thought these concepts were natural. But these kindnesses are not to be taken for granted -- they are the essence of Pittsburgh.

A lot of things about our town make me proud. But nothing makes me happier than hearing about what great people live in our city. That should make us all proud.

I have learned that for all the talk about a city that is aging and in decline, Pittsburgh has a lot of assets in its favor. I have learned that I want to move back to Pittsburgh and spend my life at home -- and I have learned that there are many more young Pittsburghers who feel the same way. I have learned that we have a lot of reasons to be proud of ourselves and our town. We just need to regain a sense of confidence in the future of our city.

I have learned that only time will tell whether Pittsburgh is really stagnating and facing decline, as so many of its critics contend. But I have learned that we live in an amazing place, and it is the duty of every Pittsburgher to make sure that the future of our city is bright.

---

Sam Hornak, who grew up in Upper St. Clair, graduated from Georgetown University in May with a history degree (sah44@georgetown.edu). He is entering University of Pittsburgh School of Law.

First published on August 23, 2008 at 12:00 am

Check out the happenings in Beechview

There are some doings in Beechview. To check them out, go to the following sites:

http://beechview.wordpress.com/

http://cleanupbeechview.blogspot.com/

rb

Morningside

Not a native of Pittsburgh, I always imagined a city void of trees, grass, or green of any type. This, however, could not be further from the truth. Within the small neighborhood of Morningside, where I have been living for the past several months, every house has a garden with flowers, trees, and even produce. Many of the residents, including the large Italian population, have sacrificed the little lawn space allotted to maintain the tradition of growing their own vegetables and herbs. It is a charming aspect of the neighborhood; and one that, as I become more familiar with the city, I realize is not isolated to this small community. The gardens and green spaces make this city unique.

Beth

Greenfield and the Big Snow of 1950

Excerpts from a memoir by Karen Cain

Greenfield Avenue starts on the edge of town at Second Avenue and goes up hill for a mile and a half ending at Calvary Cemetery (as do many Greenfielders). My life in Pittsburgh, all eighteen years of it, was spent living on or near an assortment of points on the avenue. On Deely Street, we played games in the middle of the street. In the summer, the local fire department came by and opened the fire hydrant where we cooled off playing in the gushing water. We stayed outside until the streetlights came on. We moved a few doors down to Delevan Street, where we experienced the "Big Snow" of 1950 (pix below). Winter in Pittsburgh offers plenty of snow but nothing like 1950, five feet as we tell it but it was probably more like three feet, a record for the city and the only time I remember them closing schools. My father had to abandon his car on the Homestead Bridge trying to get home from work. It wouldn't move another inch even with heavy chains. My dad mentally noted its location for retrieval another day and walked the rest of the way home. People hunkered down inside their warm homes, ate comfort food, watched the world turn whiter. When the snow finally stopped, all of the neighbors on our street came out with shovels and began to dig out. My twin brothers made igloos and snow tunnels in the alley that ran along the side of the house. My dad playfully threw them off of the porch and they disappeared where they fell under the snow, hooting with laughter. We took our sleds up to Deely Street and started at the top of Delevan and rode our sleds straight down Delevan Street. We were pretty good at stopping before we got to Greenfield Avenue but if we overshot, we had to tolerate the honking and window opened screaming from the driver that had to break suddenly. Traffic was light enough and the few drivers that ventured out knew to look out for us clueless kids.

The Big Snow of 1950

The Book is Here!

Rivers of Steel is happy to announce that the Seeing Pittsburgh book is done and currently on sale at the Bost Building Gift Shop (623 E. 8th Avenue, Homestead, PA) and on-line at www.riversofsteel.com.

Please come and see the exhibit and peruse the book

Exhibit hours are M-F: 10-4 and Sat: 11-3

rb