Precipice

So...I haven't posted in awhile and it's not for the typical reasons. It's not because of family demands, or because I started back teaching at the University, or because I couldn't find the time. I have a very, very busy and full life, and lot's of people depend on me. But, in all honesty, that is not why I disengaged. So here is why...

Sometime in July, in the midst of full-on renovation I lost my way. It has been a constant struggle while doing this renovation these questions of; how much do you keep? what can be saved? what is within your budget to save? and then, how do you do save what you truly want and can afford to keep? When I say afford I mean this in many ways. Can you afford the technical expert who knows how to restore 200 year old wood that is rotting? Or even if you researched the methods can you afford to pay someone the time it will take to do the work? I am doing a documentary about a historic renovation (not restoration) but felt/feel/felt and sometimes still feel like I failed. The oldest part of the house, the wooden part, in the end got almost completely replaced and in the end, when I looked at all this wood that I could have tried to save I felt/feel/felt and sometimes still feel so defeated. My answers to so many of these questions were not what I expected or even wanted. But in the end, they were mine and this is my story and I hope that in telling it, others will learn from my mistakes.

In all great drama there is a turning point, so it was with me that in late July, a builder (who will remain nameless) came to visit the site and lambasted my contractor as he was trying to convince me that I needed an entirely new roof. At that point, he had convinced me that the floors were wood rotten, the beams too, and he also changed most of the siding, even the interior ones, that really just needed sanding and scraping. Watching her question him on why he didn't use this technique or the other to reinforce the beams instead of replacing them was shocking.  It made me realize how ignorant I was and how trusting.  I believed my well-intentioned contractor when he said I had to replace beams, or wood or siding. I made him explain to me his rationale and it made sense. Most importantly though this female builder reminded me, that as a woman you have to really push what your vision is. There will be men, cyaan done who will tell you what you should do with your building, but that you need to stand firm with your vision. I felt/feel/felt and sometimes still feel that I wasn't able to do that. My vision was not to have a new building, but if you replace four walls and the floor with new materials you come pretty close to having one. Some would be thrilled with that, I am not.

It was also challenging because in the middle of doing the renovation I was also filming interviews at other locations and each time I would return to the building site, more pieces of the building were gone, replaced and discarded.  I was loosing more and more control and in the end just stopped. Stopped working on the renovation, stopped working on the documentary. I needed time, to think and regroup. It was not a conscious decision to stop, but it was a needed one. When I look back at my last post in July I think "How did it get to be November already?" But during this time I was able to reflect. I have been working along the edge of a precipice for quite sometime and coping with the anxiety that brings.  I had to go back to this question: Why am I telling this story? I realized that I had projected myself as some sort of heroine that was going to save this building and save it's stories. It never occurred to me that I would also make un-fixable mistakes, and that even though someone can be well-intentioned, being not well-informed can cancel that out.

So some things I learned:
1. Know your lane. Expecting a carpinter/contractor to be knowledeable about restoring a historic building is like expecting me, a painter, to be knowledage about restoring a historic painting. It's a specialty field, with specialized knowledge.

2. Know your vision. It wasn't until the contractor asked me " This building must be really old?" when I realized he really didn't understand what I was trying to do. When I asked him, "Yes, of course it's old, why do you ask like that?" He responded that when he had taken out some of the beams he saw the mortise and tenon wooden joints holding the building together. This technique is rarely used anymore since nails and screws are cheaper and easier. This is a thousands of year old building technique that he ripped out for the sake of having something new. He didn't get that "new" wasn't the look I was going for.

3. Know your limitations.  I admit it.  I have a complete superwoman complex. I think I can do anything and everything. And that is just simply not true. There are limits to my time, my energy and my money and those limits need to be respected. If I had a better assessment of my limitations I would have had better direction and less disappointment.

So in my despair and these realization my daughter Isolde said something to me, that made things clearer. She saw me crying and asked me why. (Yes, I admit it, I did cry over this project.) I tried to explain to my five-year old about the renovation, and about throwing away too much of the material that could have been saved and she looked at me puzzled and said, "So you are crying about...rotten wood?" Kids don't tell the truth, they are the truth and the truth at that moment I had catch myself as we say. Forward and onward. I still have the bathroom, kitchenette, shutter, interior and exterior painting to do, but I have a renewed vision. My goal is now to be finished by the end of the year. Excited!

Interview: Gerard Emanuel, retired history teacher, former resident of Free Gut

I have known Gerard Emanuel for over twenty years when I first met him in 1990 when I worked with him on the US Census. I was 16 and worked as an enumerator. It was my first job ever! I had to beg my parents to do it as they thought that having a job and earning money would have made me think I was "grown". It was an amazing experience to have at that age, to walk into people's homes and ask them such personal questions about family, work and ethnicity. I remember that experience fondly and as I write this, I realize that I am doing that same job again, just in a different way, on a different scale, using a different medium.

Gerard Emanuel on Market and East St. Christiansted, reminiscing about his boyhood in town.

Gerard is a retired history teacher and a social sciences professor who has long ties to St. Croix, but especially Christiansted. Like many of the people I interviewed he talks about walking the town and in his case carrying messages for his mother. Reminding us once again of a time without cell phones, without landlines, a time where face-to-face interactions were the basis of communication. A time where like today, when you passed someone on the street you greeted them, "Good morning" or "Good Afternoon", and stopped briefly to exchange pleasantries and inquire about the well-being of mothers, grandmothers or children.

Gerard's family member's house on East St.

We also talked about the "untidiness" of slavery and its legacy, how race dynamics were not as neat and clear-cut as some might want to envision. Freed Blacks might have owned slaves. Whites masters might have fallen in love with their slaves. Freed Colored women might have used their sexuality to advance their position in society. And White Danes might have also exploited them. There were so many unanswered questions: What was the relationship between the Free Black community and the still enslaved community? Did the Free community see themselves as advocates for the enslaved or did they only seek out to create a way for themselves to have more rights and be more equal to Whites. Who is this figure of the "Housekeeper"? Was this simply a legal term to try to legitimize a romantic relationship with Black and Colored women? Were these women exploited or did they actively seek out these relationships with Danish men?  How did the enslaved see the Freed Blacks? Did they aspire to be like them? Or did they see marroonage as a more desirable option considering the restrictions that Freed Blacks were also placed under? Many parts of this interview were less "interview" and more conversation, wonderings, as even my cameraman Tristan Jones jumped in with his own ideas.

Gerard also relayed some fascinating interpretations of how he felt culture operated as a form of social control. He commented on how jumbie stories worked as ways to keep children off of the streets, how discipline was often accompanied with proverbs that were not explained, but that you had to figure out the meaning to and how even the architecture of the buildings, like the jalousie windows, allowed one to observe the street and its "goingon" without the person on the street knowing they were being watched.

Jalousie window on home on East St, Christiansted

We also talked about the tension between celebrating and preserving a historic town, but still allowing for each generation to make its mark. He questioned the validity in wanting our town to only look the way it did in the 1800's especially considering that it represents a time where so many of the people were living under duress. He yearns for this generation to be also given the opportunity to use their imagination in fashioning our town. I hope that this work can open or inspire a path to making this happen, even if what this generation imagines is preservation.

Interview: Dianne Canegata O'Reilly

At the turn of the twentieth century my house was owned by James C. Canegata, a shrewd  businessman that over the next decade would own over twenty properties in town, have over 200 tenants, own a dry goods store and even a soda factory. I was able to interview his great-granddaughter, Dianne Canegata O'Reilly, an enterprising woman in her own right as she is the owner of Shay's Boutique on the corner of Company and Church St. The fact that her great-grandfather's store was on the same street as her own is only one of the many ways that this family has left an interconnected legacy in the town of Christiansted.

Dianne Canegata O'Reilly, great granddaughter of one of the previous owners of my house, James C. Canegata

In the Virgin Islands perhaps the most famous of the clan is the beloved Dr. David C. Canegata whom the Christiansted ball park is named after. Dr. Canegata was the first Crucian to become a physician, was a member of all three branches of government and was an active humanitarian. Although coming from a rather privileged background of going to exclusive boarding schools in Antigua and being educated in Montreal, when he became a physician he is often described as taking a chicken for payment of medical services or not accepting payment at all.

Dr. David C. Canegata, son of one of the previous owners of my house

However, there is perhaps an even more famous Canegata that many Virgin Islanders know nothing about. Lionel C. Canegata, better known as Canada Lee, was the son of the first born son of James C. Canegata. It appears from baptismal documents and Census records that James C. Canegata had a son before David with a woman by the name of Fanny Levy. At 17 James C. Jr. left for NYC and became a part of the Harlem Renassaince movement with other notable Virgin Islanders like Hubert Harrison and Casper Holstein. His son, Lionel, born and raised in NYC became a famous jockey, boxer and then later an actor in both theater and film. Nicknamed Lee from childhood, it was during a fight as a boxer where the announcer mispronounced his name and Canegata became "Canada" and stuck.

Lionel C. Canegata aka Canada Lee, famous boxer and actor

And what is even more amazing about this process of researching the Canegatas is that we believe to have uncovered a younger brother to Dr. David C. Canegata, James Albert Canegata, apparently born in 1895 according to the St. John's church records! It was exciting and incredible that as we searched for better clarification on Canada Lee and who his mother was, we discovered indeed another brother. This was an unexpected surprise to the surviving Canegatas on St. Croix.

However, separate from the family discoveries, Dianne relayed a fascinating image of a strong and united family. One with beautiful traditions and a strong sense of place. She recounted memories of family gatherings at "The Hill" as her grandparents house was affectionately referred to, where all the Canegatas gathered for dinner on Sunday, Easter or Christmas.  Unfortunately the beautiful historic home she describes was destroyed in 1989 in Hurricane Hugo. What remains on this large property are the steps she remembers using to enter her grandparents home.

Steps to Dr. David C. Canegata's home on Fisher St. Christiansted, the remains of Hurricane Hugo in 1989

View of Canegata property on the corner of Church St. and Fisher St.

One of the other reflections she shared that stood out to me was a comment about what it felt like to recognize a particular brick on a street that you have canvassed your entire life. Having walked these streets as a child and now as an adult, she said it gives her a tremendous comfort and sense of self to be able to do that. It was a small but profound description of a true sense of place and belonging. It is that same sense of place and ownership that I hope my documentary can inspire.

Interview: Sonia Jacobs Dow, Executive Director of the St. Croix Landmarks Society

Sonia Jacobs Dow, Executive Director of the St. Croix Landmarks Society

This week I had the opportunity to interview Sonia Dow, executive director of the St. Croix Landmarks Society. It's an amazing organization dedicated to the preservation of cultural heritage. They run two museums, a library and have great programs, exhibits, concerts and tours. Ms. Dow also has connections to Free Gut and the larger Christiansted, so she was a natural choice for an interview subject that deals with the town, the buildings and the story of its former residents.

Sonia Dow, Executive Direction of St. Croix Landmarks Society in front of "My Granny House"

We interviewed her on the property of the Estate Whim Museum. I have actually had an exhibit there. You can see a link here and here to view some of the images from that show.

Iron Bed as a part of the "My Granny House" Exhibit at the Estate Whim Museum

However we chose to interview her in front of a beautiful wooden house that was constructed about 20 years ago that has been recently converted into an exhibit entitled "My Granny House". The first time I entered the house it brought back so many memories of both of my grandmothers houses. My grandmother in Barbados and Tobago have similar homes. The kitchen, the bed, the grip, the dollies, the crochet doll, the rocking chair, coal pot all made me think of my Granny and how my parents grew up. Both of them in one and two room wooden houses that they shared with 6-8 people.

What was most memorable to me about our interview was Ms. Dow's commentary on the effect of uncovering one's family history. She talked about the varied emotions that surface when someone finds that first African born ancestor or the first ancestor that was a slaveholder. Due to the meticulous Danish accounting of property taxes, and we remember that slaves were considered property, it is possible for many Virgin Islanders to trace their family history in their library. The process, she says, is incredibly healing, the stories are healing. And for me, although I am not related to anyone that owned my house, we agreed that the stories are powerful enough that they transcend bloodlines. It was a great reminder of one of the many reasons that I am doing this documentary.

Hucksters and Housekeepers

Frederiksted Huckster, 1900 Danish Maritime Museum

Several of the people who owned my house were women. During the Danish colonial time women were able to obtain freedom by a variety of ways. One of them was by being a huckster, an itinerant vendor who sold bread, fruit, herbs or vegetables and with the money they earned some were able to purchase their freedom.

Oceana James as a Huckster for the film "The House That Freedom Built", July 2013

 The huckster is another version of the quintessential image of a Caribbean market lady. From the perspective of a visual artist I have often felt that these images have often been over-used and romanticized in painting. While doing this project I have gained a new understanding for the fortitude of these women and a new appreciation for who they were and what they represent. Simple things, like trying to find a tray/ basket that was the right size for our reenactment made me understand that these women would want a tray large enough to carry enough goods to make money, but not too large that you couldn't bear the weight. And then of course one imagines these women walking around often balancing this weight on their heads.

Oceana James as a "Housekeeper". Effects test for the film "The House That Freedom Built", July 2013

And then there is the more controversial image of the "housekeeper". Often Danish men would have come to the colonies without their families. Although it was illegal for them to marry women of color and even live with them in a romantic capacity, the position of a "housekeeper" was legal. This would be a woman who worked for a Danish officer in his home, the use of quotations signifies that this relationship was often more than laundry and cooking. It was often also sexual and might have also produced children. These liasons were also one of the ways that women could obtain their freedom.

Oceana James as a Huckster for the film "The House That Freedom Built", July 2013

Sayeeda Carter as a Huckster for the film "The House That Freedom Built", July 2013

Two beautiful actors worked on these representations with me, Oceana James and Sayeeda Carter. It was a fun day. We worked in the late afternoon so the lighting was beautiful. Several people stopped us while filming to ask about the project and they were very intrigued. Since our entire town is historic is was amazing how quickly you were transported back in time.

Although there are some photographs like the one below of "Big Mouth Catherine" that I may be able to use for the film. I wanted some more diversity in my imagery. My cameraman, Bill Stelzer, talked about why historical images tend to look the way they do, why the portraits all seemed to have a despondency or emptiness in the expression.

Huckster, "Big Mouth Catherine", 1890 Danish Royal Library

He reminded us that taking a picture in the 1800's meant that a subject would have had to stand still for several minutes often resulting in a certain "stiffness". Videotaping our actors gave another dimension of life: smiles, gestures, etc. I look forward to seeing how it all fits together in the film.

Sayeeda Carter and Oceana James as Hucksters for the film "The House That Freedom Built", July 2013

Interview: Suzette Bough James of 6B Fisher Street

6B Fisher Street, home of Suzette Bough James in Christiansted, St. Croix

Her house actually feels like it's more on King Cross Street, but she said that because they seemed to mark the houses based on where the front door opens to, hers is marked as 6B Fisher St. I thought that was interesting. Suzette or Suzie as she is most preferably called comes from a large and well established Christiansted town family, the Boughs. She is a retired art teacher who was born and raised in Free Gut, or Hillside as the neighborhood is most commonly called by the generation who experienced its heyday in the 1940's-60's. Every time I interview someone from this generation I yearn to have lived in that time. It sounds like a magical era, where everyone knew each other, and loved each other and looked out for one another. A time where although people lived with far less materially, they seemed to have a lot more joy, more sense of community and more dedication to family. She describes the town as beautiful, well cared for and full of life.

Suzette Bough James, resident of Free Gut, Christiansted

When I asked her about the earliest memory of her house she told me a moving story about the day her mother died. She said she was five years old and she remembers walking into the house for the first time without her mother in it. She commented on the way the jalousie windows (wooden louvered windows) were open and that later neighbors had come by to comfort her.

Although the windows have changed, they are now glass louvered windows and covered with iron grill work to keep out the burglars (she's had a few over the last decade), the view has not changed. We stood there imagining this class of Freed Blacks looking at the same view of the ocean and wondering what they thought, what they felt. We both agreed that their view must have reflected back to them a sense of freedom and tranquility.

View from "Hillside" at the home of Suzette Bough James

Neighbors

The other day I was at the house and heard voices. I was surprised because most of the houses in the area are abandoned. When I went to see where the voices were coming from I was pleasantly surprised to see that the house just behind me had some people that were about to open it. Toney Prescot has just come back to St. Croix to start the renovation of his family property.

 My neighbor Toney on Prince St. He has just come home to renovate his family property.

I was thrilled to meet he and his wife Rose and talk to them about my renovation project and the documentary. I was able to interview him today and  collect his memories of growing up in the area. He is apparently family to the owners who preceded me and shared a lovely memory of "Auntie Dolly" as he called her. He talked about how most of the family had moved to the states, but that every time she came home the first thing Auntie Dolly would do when she arrived was go outside to look for and collect her "bush". It was a striking image of an elder returning home and looking for her "roots", literally.

Toney's family property on Prince St., Christianted. 

Normally the area is quiet because of the abandoned properties, but today it was a challenge for us to find a place to do Toney's interview. This was a good thing because all of the noise was construction noise. My neighbors on both sides and myself were busy renovating and working on our properties. It was good to see that. It was a wonderful affirmation on how the universe works. There is a synergy happening. One by one, house by house, Christiansted is coming alive again.

A Wood House: Drama and Definition

The wooden part is the oldest part of the house. The concrete additions of a kitchen and bathroom were done later  in the early 1900's. It is the wooden section that needs the most repair. Next week I meet with my carpenter who will be assisting me to figure out how much we can save and what absolutely must be replaced. This dilemma between renovation vs restoration has been a struggle and you have to ask a lot of questions, because in my experience, most carpenters will tell you to take the whole thing down and start again. They will tell you it will look better, last longer, that they don't like mixing new with old, that it will be more work, more expensive, and they will look at you like you are crazy when you ask them the same thing four times sometimes in the same way, sometimes in different ways, to see if you will get a different answer. The funny thing is that older materials were of higher quality, so you definitely want to try to save as much of it as possible. So it's funny when a carpenter tells you to throw 100% out when it's really 10, 25 or maybe even 50% that is damaged. And also funny enough (hah, hah, do you hear me laughing?) the older materials are also made at different measurements. So the older 4x4 beams are not really 4x4 beams but 3 and 1/2  also making it difficult to match old with new.  

18B East St, Christiansted. The oldest part of the building, built in the late 1700's.

At this point however, it looks like most of the supporting vertical beams have been compromised. You can see this in the picture from all of the horizontal beams that have been placed in between to try to brace the building. Despite this effort, it's sinking in some areas, leaning in others and so we will have to take up the floors, jacked up the part that is sinking and check the other supporting floor boards. In this process I will be able to ascertain how much of the original floor I can keep, if any, it's in pretty bad shape. The ship lapped wood (horizontal in blue) is also rotting. However, I will go board by board and try to save as much of this as possible too.  

This will be the most costly part of the renovation. Wood although 100 years ago was cheap, today it's quite expensive and in the St. Croix, many people have moved away from building wooden homes because of the upkeep, pests and fear of hurricanes.  But more than that, I think that wood houses have also because become synonymous with poverty. They remind us of an era many would prefer to forget. Yet what I find interesting is that many of these houses were also usually built by the hands of its inhabitants. They are handcrafted, which in our modern world of manufacturing and prefab is becoming less and less common. 

I also find it interesting the words we use to describe wooden houses and how they denote different ideas. Shack, cottage, cabin, chattel house, board house, row house, beach house are all typically made of wood, but they all mean very different things. I'm not sure which one of these words best describes this house. It's obviously not a beach house or a cabin. I'm working on it to no longer be refereed to as a shack :). It's not a board house which typically means it was made with plywood. And although slaves lived there at different times in it's history, it's not really a chattel house either as it was owned by freed slaves in an area designated for freed slaves to live.  So...I suppose it's somewhere between a cottage and a row house. Looking forward to seeing how it feels and fits on this continuum when it's done.

My amazing and always helping mother, Claudia Belle, helping out in clearing up the yard. We are trying to make it a little safer for the kids to be around.

Richmond Prison: the "house" that freedom built

Richmond prison. St. Croix, VI

Today I spent time in a prison. An open one, a forgotten one. One of the few prisons specifically built to house enslaved Africans, the prison in Richmond is our Robben Island. Built in 1834 it was constructed to control and punish the most rebellious of the enslaved, like our most infamous/famous freedom fighter General Buddhoe. 

Moses Gotlieb aka "General Buddhoe" lead the 1848 slave rebellion in St. Croix, Danish West Indies. He is on record as being imprisoned three times in the Richmond prison prior to this revolt.

Although I received different dates, it seemed to have functioned as a prison until the late 60's. And then...slowly, like so much of our history we forgot it. Today, most people do not know that there was even a prison there. And of those that do, many do not know that it was a part of the colonial system.

While I was there we happened upon some bones in the courtyard. It was the same courtyard that two hundred years ago enslaved people would have been forced to work as their punishment, doing back-breaking tasks like breaking rocks.  I found in the courtyard bones of an abandoned horse that was left tied to a tree. Someone just left the poor animal there. Perhaps they forgot it. I find it to be an interesting metaphor.

"They loved their houses"

One of the cool things about doing this project and having a website/blog is that people reach out to you. It has become a way that like minds and people interested in this field have found me. Last week I met with a Danish professor, Helle Stenum, who was visiting St. Croix and teaches cultural and migration studies at Roskilde University.

Helle Stenum, Danish professor of Culture and Identity

536 × 300

536 × 300

She was interested in talking about my project and the links between Denmark and the Virgin Islands. I took her to see the house. I was commenting on the renovation and the craftsmanship in the buildings, specifically the beading that is found in the rafters and the siding. Many of this work was done by hand. Today machines can do this work, but it can be still expensive to reproduce. I chose not to replicate a lot of these details because of the time and expense, but am happy that the older part of the house still has some.

Vernacular details of Christiansted house. Hand-planed beading in exterior wall.

She looked around and said, "They loved their houses". I paused. "Yes, they did," I responded. It was such profound moment for me. A simple realization. They. Loved. Their. Houses. The details, the craftsmanship, the time, the care: they loved them. To put those kinds of details in a simple 100-200 square foot house, shows a level of pride that is awe inspiring. Let us remember that.

Vernacular details of 18B East Street. Hand-planed beading in rafter.

Happy New Year! Renovation Update

It's a New Year! 2012 was a challenging year. I am happy to welcome in 2013. This is the second long hiatus from this project, this time brought on by the birth of my third daughter: Maisara. I can't say that I'm back in full swing, but I'm swinging. So here's the update:

In October of 2012  I was able to put some money aside to fix the roof. Without the roof, I couldn't go forward on anything else and I knew it would be the most expensive part of the renovation. I was very anxious about finding the right person to do the job who was also within my budget. I spent about $1500 in labor and another $2500 in materials to redo the roof. I had originally anticipated taking off the gavaloom, maybe even reusing some, and putting the ceiling back on. It seems that the roof came off previously in a storm and they only put back the galvaloom without the interior ceiling. 

18B: July 2011 after cleaning out most of the trash.

18B East Street: October 2011. Roof coming off.

As it turns out when the workers started taking off the metal sheets, large chunks of the rafters were coming out with it (ie, I now had to replace the entire roof!) So I scrapped the original idea about reusing any metal sheets and just did the whole entire roof. Actually we did preserve the interior of the wooden section of the house.

Well the old adage in construction is very true: you get what you pay for! There are issues that need to be fixed and other issues that cannot be fixed. One thing though, the roof does not leak, but because of the pitch, even with holes it wasn't leaking before anyway, and probably never will. Will it stay on if we get another Hurricane Hugo? Not sure.

18B East Street: Ceiling on, beams changed.

18BEast Street: Ceiling and Roof on. Walls first coat of paint.

According to one contractor (contractors always criticize other contractor's jobs) some areas are not tied down properly and the metal sheets were cut too short along the width of the building. When I spoke to the guys who did the job for me about these issues, their response was: "We put it back just how it was, that was the job". Unlucky for me I had already paid them. Lucky for me we are not in hurricane season and I can save some money later in the year to address some of the roof issues.  So the roof is done (for the most part) and the ceiling painted (which I did myself thank you). 

18B East Street: January 2013. Ceiling and walls painted. Second coat on walls needed.

Next is to finish paint the walls and deal with the floors. Because this is going to be my studio, I am going to simply stain the concrete floors in a dark color and seal them. After the floors will be the shutters and plumbing. The next major expense will be to address the wooden section of the building, which needs the supporting beams changed, the floor changed and addressing termites. There is sooo much to do and I feel pressure to finish soon because the documentary is tied to the renovation and the funding I received has a deadline. Curiously, I was able to get some funding to tell this story, but nothing to renovate the building. So here we are. I do what I can do on the renovation as finances allow.