My Dad also took me along to The Walker with him. He
liked to take silk screening classes, or pottery classes, that
were in the basement of the museum. Instead of going to
the cafeteria, there was a wall of food items where we
could insert coins and tiny doors would open up for us to
take what we chose. Sandwiches, chips, and beverages, I
can’t remember, but there might have been blueberry pie.
Each visit I would pass the Segal sculptures and they
became like old friends. Reliable like a recipe. We were
there a lot in the summertime. I imagined eating pie with
the soda fountain people. I knew they would like it, but
maybe not quite as much as I. Their stark whiteness would
get stained like my teeth, only who would scrub it off?
Would water ruin what George had made? I discovered
blueberry pie in the museum where I was introduced to
George Segal. Every visit gave me a new experience of each.
While George’s diorama’s had a ghostly aura to some, I
saw them as friendly. The motionless figures bringing life
to the spaces they occupied. Art was like that – life giving.
Both my parents were invigorated by our visits to
museums. Blueberry pie was like that too. Blueberries are
nutrient dense, high in antioxidants, can ward off virus
(I’ve read about the Swedish blueberry soup touted to kill
colds, in the same way that I was given chicken soup.), can
reduce DNA damage, and even reverse aging.
My family is aging. We all live far from Walker, but still
visit modern art wherever we are. My dad looks forward to
blueberry season as much as I do. He finds pick-your-own
stands in the northeast. I often go to Trader Joe’s and
purchase blueberries to make a pie. I’ve changed the recipe
to be healthier, sans sugar cane or anything artificial. I use
agar instead of gelatin. Each time I roll out the crust and
stir up the filling, each cooled off slice I enjoy on a small
plate, making the slice look even bigger – I am reminded of
George Segal, of visits to Walker, my mom’s smile. The
experience of blueberry pie is both of that moment, and a
ghost of another time, just like a Segal sculpture itself.
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THE CONE - ISSUE #10 - SUMMER 2016