Bloggo Viaggio e culturale: Charleston-oh and Spoleto

The brilliant Russian writer Vladimir Nabokov titled his memoir Speak, Memory. Dottore Gianni waits patiently for his memory to speak, but it is frequently less than forthcoming. For example, he knows he’s been to Charleston, South Carolina once, but has a feeling he may have been there on two other occasions as well. One, two or three visits, they are all a part of his deep, increasingly dark past. The one visit he is sure of occurred in 1987, 88, or 89. He was dating a actress named Pat Nesbit, who was understudying Joanna Gleason in a play called Eleemosynary, which was invited to the Spoleto Festival in one of those years, and the good doctor either drove his girlfriend down or met her there. It was not a long visit, but it DID involve a rather classy old town B&B, seeing the play (Gleason could not make the first few performance so Pat took the role for a short time) and certainly walking around the beautiful old houses. More than that the doctor does not recall.

Sidebar: Thanks to the internet, the good doctor has discovered that it was in fact the 1989 which featured Eleemosynary, and which therefore was the year that he was present there. He could have just changed the date above, but he wants to prove to you that his memory is not the best…

The woman Dottore Gianni was seeing BEFORE he dated Pat Nesbit was (still is for all he knows) Brigid Cleary, another actress. They had been living and performing in Florida and decided to take a long slow drive back up the coast to Washington DC – this would have been in the early to mid-1980s, as they split up in 1986. They hugged the coastline as closely as possible and made many stops. Charleston MUST have been one of them, as who in his or her right mind would give that city a miss? But he more clearly remembers stopping at St Augustine FL, Savannah GA, and the Outer Banks in NC – in fact for that trip he must keep Charleston in the “possible only” column.

Previous to that his old Air Force buddy, Ernest Harper, took Dottore Gianni to his hometown in Horry County (pronounced OR-ry…pronounce the H at your peril!), near Myrtle Beach. He THINKS that Ernest drove him down to Charleston as well, or at least to Pawley’s Island…but that visit, IF it happened, took place in the only very vaguely remembered very late 1960s or very early 1970s (for in 1972 the good doctor moved to Florida, finished his undergraduate degree, married Joanne Camp – you guessed it, another actress…a marriage not made in heaven and one that lasted only until 1980) and so that trip to Charleston must be placed in a category that he’ll be forced to call “barely possible.”

Speak, Memory! (Pinter “pause”…followed by a Pinter “long pause”…followed by a Pinter “silence.”) Uh-oh!

So! He had better get his thoughts about this most recent trip down in writing (or typing, inputting, posting???) sooner rather than later, so that they will be, if not memorable, at least able to be remembered.

Three prime reasons for going:

first and foremost, I promised myself that I would travel as often as possible during retirement

second: I wanted to re-visit Charleston

third and most immediate: I wanted to see a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Spoleto Festival, which I did

To and from: I cannot express strongly enough how little I like to drive these days. I find the drivers of South Carolina loutish, inconsiderate oafs – I’ve never witnessed more frequent runnings of very RED lights, or swervings across two or even three lanes (when available) regardless of traffic, tailgating, and I’ve never seen less use of turn signals – I feel like I’m taking my life into my hands on even the shortest of drives. So I have kept driving to a minimum since I’ve been here, though because of my new location I’m forced to drive a bit more than when I lived downtown. But I’ve only been in the driver’s seat for long trips twice since my return to the U.S. – and of course while in London I didn’t drive at all for nearly a year (thank the gods of travel!) – the drive from Upstate NY to South Carolina (two days and a harrowing experience all the way) and this recent three ½ drive to Charleston. I chose well in terms of my departure: early-ish Sunday morning, and even though it was Memorial Day weekend I am happy to report that after leaving the maniacal drivers of Greenville behind I was able to drive nearly all the way on cruise control, so sparse was the traffic. The return trip was not so nice, because even though I left Charleston at 6:30 am it was on the first work day after the long weekend, and while there wasn’t much traffic in and just outside of Charleston I hit fairly serious traffic around Columbia, and there were many more trucks on the road than on the way down.

Once in Charleston I found myself in the mother of all traffic jams, missed my turn (actually my GPS missed my turn, but I’ll admit it was rather tricky) and had to try to get back to the hotel in ridiculous driving conditions. Once in, however, I was able to check in rather early, as my room was ready, and after the briefest of rests I bolted out into the beautiful day to explore the city.

I didn’t know this when I stepped out into the hot Sunday afternoon, but there are five ways to get to the Battery: down the east side of it, via the waterfront promenade, on Church Street (I do believe I’ll abbreviate "Street" to "St" after this), Meeting St, King St and Legare St. That last was pronounced “Legree” (as in Simon???) by the grizzled, but I think wealthy old South Carolinian on a bike who explained it all to me the following day. I did know that my hotel was on Meeting Street and that that thoroughfare did hit the Bowery, so off I trod in its direction.

But slowly…I passed an art show sponsored by the Spoleto Festival in Marion Square, very close to my hotel, but stopped a few blocks farther (fuhthuh, 

The good doctor at Hyman's

Southerners would and did say) down Meeting at Hyman’s, a seafood restaurant highly recommended by my brother Phil and his wife Kara. Although I didn’t get a table (some of which, Kara explained, were labeled with the names of movie stars and other luminaries who had sat there) I was seated instantly at the bar and had a great crab cake sandwich with coleslaw and hush puppies (!) – very bad for me but delicious – washed down by a local brew, Palmetto Pale Ale – a great lunch (thanks P&K)!

I strolled "fuhthuh" down Meeting St, pausing momentarily at the Old City

The Old City Market: This 1841 structure
is based on The Temple of Wingless
Victory in Athens Greece

 Market, a beehive of activity. Some people (mostly uninformed tourists, think that slaves were sold there, but that is simply not the case – not that slaves weren’t sold in Charleston, many, many were – just not in that location. Not far away I found St Michael's Church, in whose cemetery two signers of the Declaration of Independence are buried: Charles Pinkney, who later became our minister to France, and John Rutledge, a governor of South Carolina and Chief Justice of the U.S. Theatrical nut that Dottore Gianni is, he confesses that whenever he sees the name John Rutledge he cannot help but think of performer John Collum in 1776, and the song "Molasses to Rum!"

St Michael's Cemetery

Meeting St boasts house after historic house, and I snapped far too many photos of them…I’ll show only a few here, I promise.

One of the many beautiful houses along Meeting Street
The Poyas-Mordecai House was built in 1788,
an example of the Adamesque style

This Meeting St beauty is on sale for $2 million!

This house must be important, because one of the
ubiquitous carriage tours is stopping here

Meeting St ends at White Oak Garden, a park of live oak trees, statues, 

White Oak Garden, at the Battery

cannons, monuments and above all, shade! On the other side of the Park is the Battery, the sea, and a long promenade great for strolling and sea views. I scanned the horizon for perhaps the most iconic historical site in Charleston, Fort Sumter, where the Civil War began, but couldn’t see it with my poor old less than perfect eyes – I used the zoom on my camera and with that strained to the utmost, got a pretty good shot of it in the distance. I had not got out to it in the late 80s and would not get out to it on this trip either, but some day…

This lovely house is also a B&B:
Two Meeting Street Inn
across the street from White Oak Garden

In Dottore Gianni’s youth he was crazy for American history, and what interested him most back then was the Revolution and the Civil War. It holds less interest for him now, but living in South Carolina has re-kindled a spark that he hopes to explore…god knows he has the time these days!

From the Battery, a distant look at Fort Sumter

Having achieved the objective of the Battery I headed east along its 

The first house along the East Battery
the Louis DeSaussure House, built 1858

promenade and slowly made my way back along the waterfront in the general direction of my hotel. The first structures one notes on the hike back are house after historic house (that phrase again) many of which have excellent sea views unimpeded by White Oak Garden. I found out very little about these houses on my walk – Sunday afternoon was my one block of time to focus on things touristic and I had to make the best of it. I also snapped several shots of plaques describing the houses, but it was primarily research after the fact that taught me a little more about some of them.

I followed the waterfront until I got to a place called, as luck would have it, Waterfront Park. I knew I was in the vicinity of the Dock Street Theatre, 

Waterfront Park

at which I’d see two shows the following day, so I headed back towards the center of the city to make sure I could find it. On the way I stopped along East Bay St at a place called Rainbow Row. This is the longest block of Georgian houses in the U.S. and they are painted in lovely pastels, thus “rainbow.” It is said that the backs of these houses, which once sat next to the waterfront until expanding the land in a city mostly surrounded by water pushed them a tad inland, were the model for Catfish Row in the great American musical/opera by George Gershwin, Porgy and Bess. Alas, it was not possible to see beyond the facades of once impoverished dwellings, now affordable to only the very rich…who as F. Scott Fitzgerald noted wisely, are “very different from you and me.”

 

Rainbow Row

Sidebar: Dottore Gianni discovered today that this quote, which he uses (poor boy that he is) constantly, he has attributed wrongly to Fitzgerald’s novel, The Great Gatsby. It is actually from a story of Fitzgerald’s called “The Rich Boy” and it goes like this: “Let me tell you about the very rich. They are different from you and me.” It continues brilliantly – check it out if you like – here’s one source:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rich_Boy

It is almost impossible to walk through Charleston without thinking that the very rich are different from you and me, unless of course you happen to belong to that one percent. Ah well, alas and alack. Many of you will know that a member of a prominent Charleston family wrote the novel Porgy, then created a play version of it with his wife, on which Gershwin based the musical. His name is DuBose Heyward, his wife’s Dorothy, and in fact DuBose wrote the libretto and lyrics to Porgy and Bess too. But! Dottore Gianni leaps ahead of his story!

From Rainbow Row he easily found the Dock Street Theatre, located at the

The facade of the Dock Street Theatre

intersection of Church St and Queen St…(Pinter pause)…if it’s located at that intersection, the more astute of you are asking (I hope) why is it called the DOCK St? I’ve read two explanations that contradict each other. One notes that after it burned down in 1740 (it was originally constructed in 1736) it was moved to a different location on Church St. The other notes that the name Dock Street was changed at some point to Queen Street. I think I believe the latter, as I’ve seen that explanation relating to other buildings on Queen St as well.

It is also claimed (generally by Charlestonians) that the Dock Street Theatre was the first purpose-built theatre in America. Dottore Giani assures you that that is not true, though you can’t fault the claimants for trying. SO many old theatres in the States, primarily on the East Coast, have been dubbed the oldest…and of course not all of them can be, can they? In truth there is evidence that a theatre was built in Williamsburg, VA as early as 1716, and another in New York City in 1732. But the Dock Street was certainly one of the very oldest. More on this, possibly, closer to the end of the post.

Having found the theatre, Dottore Gianni found himself exceedingly hot and tired, so headed with some resolve back to his hotel, where he took off all of his clothes and tried to cool down and rest. He waited until approximately 7 pm to search for supper, and happily found it very close by the hotel. In fact had he turned left out the hotel door in the morning rather than right, he’d have discovered two restaurants almost immediately, then a gelato place (not really great gelato, but…), across the street an Italian place and up a block or two at least two or three others – practically restaurant row!

39 Rue de Jean and in the distance, Coast

He chose between the closest two. One, a seafood place called Coast, is at the end of a charming alley, but even before he saw a cleverly titled French bistrot, 39 Rue de Jean. It so happens that the street on which he walked is called John Street…so if you’re a FRENCH place, why not French-ify the name? The good doctor had researched restaurants before heading to Charleston and understood that this place does a very good job with steak-frites (beef steak with a stack of what we call French fries, rightly so for the French invented them, but in France they are known as pommes-frites. And damned fine they are, and a damned fine job this place did with them, and the steak! A glass of Beaujolais went very well with the food.

Dottore Gianni strolled for a bit, walking off dinner, then decided to try the 

This clever window display made me
want to enter the gelateria -
little did I know I'd be greeted by
The Gelato Nazi!

gelateria. He asked the proprietor, a real asshole named Paolo, if he could have a little of two flavors in a cup, and Paolo went off on him, thus: “I can do whatever you want…of course you’re not supposed to but you are the customer, I can do whatever you want!” The good doctor wanted to murder the evil host, or at least stuff the gelato in his face, but instead paid up and sat outside enjoying it, to a point. As noted above it was not real gelato, and in addition Paolo, now etched in Dottore Gianni’s mind as the Gelato Nazi (thank you Seinfeld!), had sort of ruined it for him.

He then went back to his hotel, switched between three equally awful shows on network tv, turned off the lights and fell into a deep and satisfying sleep…in spite of the Gelato Nazi!

That's the end of Day 1 - look for Day 2 soon!