Influx: part 4 of initial impressions of Dallas

The Dallas that George Grosz, the German Dadaist, depicted in 1952 may have had a certain charm.

Photo taken of Elm Street, Dallas, by Arthur Rothstein of the Farm Security Administration in 1942

Downtown in those days seems to have been far livelier, even at night. Compare the view above, and all the cars parked kerbside, with essentially the same view in 2012.

You can see The Majestic on the right hand side in both photographs.

But as one of the blurbs at the George Grosz exhibition points out, Grosz would have seen another side to Dallas, had he stayed longer. It was lively yes, but cowboys, Hispanics and African-Americans did not mix in the street as easily as his tableaux depict. Segregation was well and truly alive.

And as I was standing in the Sixth Floor Museum at the former Texas School Book Depository five days ago, I wondered how many of the police accompanying (protecting) President Kennedy on the day he was killed would have been sympathetic to Kennedy's views on Civil Rights.

I came out of the hotel the other day though, and the street was booming with the sounds of an Indian wedding.

I learned that over 100,00 Indians (subcontinental Indians, that is) live in Dallas, it's the fourth largest population of expat Indians in the US. And here were the Dallas police supervising the closing off of the street, protecting the celebration. When did so many Indians come here? Was it in the 1950s and 60s? Or more recently with the development of technological industries? It wasn't until 1946 (four years after Rothstein's photograph, six years before Grosz's visit) that President Truman signed into law the Luce-Celler Act, restoring to Indian Americans 'the right to immigrate and naturalize', so I imagine this influx is more recent than that.

But as I watched this wedding, I couldn't help reflecting on the socially-beneficial, liberalising, aspects of that basic human urge: to migrate. And yet, I did remember, as an invader-Australian can't forget, that the only drumming that would once have been heard on this plain would have been that of the Caddos, and those 'Indians' seem to be a forgotten people in the broad scheme of things.

For a review of the Grosz exhibit, see:

http://www.660news.com/entertainment/article/364287--artist-george-grosz-s-series-capturing-dallas-in-1952-goes-on-exhibit-at-museum

Marking the spots

The 'X' on the road marks the spot where John Kennedy's presidency ended.

I can't help thinking of how life hurtled on for everyone else beyond this point. In the life of the nation, one presidency ended and Lyndon Johnson's began. It's quite a punctuation mark.


All this happened nearly 50 years ago (50 years ago, next year in fact). It's history. It happened 'before my time', in the words of the majority of people I know. But so much of it seems to have happened in the modern day: Kennedy's motorcade was flanked by police motorcyclists, the story was covered on live national TV, there are colour images...

So often in the US, history is here in the ever-present. It gives me goosebumps. You can still kind of follow the route:

even if some of the buildings have changed.

I remember when I was interviewing Michael Daugherty about his opera, Jackie O. I asked him if he'd had any contact with the Kennedy family while writing it. No, he had said, but at the premiere he was introduced to Nellie Connally, one of the patrons of the Houston Grand Opera (the commissioning company). He said she'd been very moved. 'And she was', he said, or words to this effect, 'the wife of the Governor of Texas at the time.' I held my breath: '...and sitting in the front seat of the car the day President Kennedy was shot.'

As I repeat to myself, it's one of the sombre realisations I had here at Dealey Plaza: History is printed on the present here.

And what makes this even more overwhelming is that in America, the moments in history and the issues they turn on are huge - civil rights, the extent of liberty, the rapprochement between  East and West, the highest stakes... moon landings, for heaven's sake.

This is why I have always thought their stories were ripe for telling on an operatic scale. However, in the past few weeks I've discovered an Australian story which I think is on the same scale. Of that more anon...

Fifth day here in Dallas and the impressions have become more nuanced. Last night walking back, we heard the most ornate birdsong - in the middle of this glassy skyscraper-scape. I love the big advertisements on the blank walls of buildings.

Later on I might walk over the Dallas Museum of Art. They've got an exhibition of paintings by the 20th century German Expressionist, George Grosz. He came to Dallas and painted it in the 1950s. The exhibition is called Flower of the Prairie: George Grosz in Dallas.

http://dallasmuseumofart.org/View/CurrentExhibitions/dma_410984

Fascinating what you see, if you stay and look long enough.