Month: July 2020

Categories
Culture Living

Hallelujah. What’s next?: The defeat of the Atlantic Coast Pipeline is only the beginning

The dissolution of the Atlantic Coast Pipeline project defines a sharp contrast between communities. Central Virginia activists worked hard to fight the ACP, whereas people in southwestern Pennsylvania (right) have mostly welcomed the fracking industry, seeing it as a finanical lifeline.

On July 5, my family and I were in the car together when we had a media experience that feels old- fashioned and rare these days. All of us, at the same time, heard the headline on the radio: The Atlantic Coast Pipeline has been canceled.

There followed a few seconds of disbelief, then many minutes of celebration. After so much awful, awful news this year—after seasons in which the news has felt like a constant morass of overlapping grief and confusion, experienced mostly in private, while hunched over a tiny screen—this was a shout of clarity, unity, joy: a mini-version of the nation’s communal viewing of the moon landing. Soon enough, the exclamatory texts from friends and neighbors started arriving, and we celebrated electronically, too. But we kept saying it out loud to each other, delightedly, in person: “No pipeline!”

Those two words had suddenly, magically become a statement of fact rather than a pleading slogan on thousands of blue-and-white yard signs and banners dotting Nelson County, where we’ve lived for years, with NO PIPELINE as a constant refrain in our landscape.

Like virtually all of Nelson’s residents, we wholeheartedly agreed that a land-grabbing, water-polluting pipeline slashing across our county was a heartbreaking prospect. My kids made handwritten versions of the signs and posted them in their room. Adult activists (many working through the group Friends of Nelson) made art, wrote songs, cataloged native plants in the pipeline’s path, symbolically walked the route, drew maps, blogged, gathered signatures, campaigned for anti-pipeline supervisors, held meetings and demonstrations, and relentlessly spread the word.

I supported all of it but, frankly, I wasn’t betting on their success. When two wide swaths of trees were clear-cut in 2018 near the entrance to Wintergreen Resort, despite the fact that many legal challenges were still pending, it seemed inevitable that the behemoth energy company, not the private citizens, would win out.

Part of the reason I felt a sense of hopelessness was that I’ve seen the crushing power of the energy industry in my home county, in southwestern Pennsylvania. That region, underlain by the vast natural gas formation called the Marcellus Shale, hosts the other side of fracking: the wells that supply the gas which would have flowed through the ACP. Over the last decade or so, the infrastructure of fracking has marched over my native landscape like an unstoppable dystopian monster.

It’s a hilly, scrappy place; I grew up seeing sheep farms and cornfields, junkyards and railroads. Coal and steel had left their own deep scars, but the first frack wells I noticed were still jarring: hills brutally decapitated in order to create flat wellpads, acres of heavy gravel, wide new roads cut into the soft slopes so that large trucks could roar into the fields, bringing water that would be mixed with proprietary chemicals and injected underground.

The economics of the situation in rural, post-industrial Pennsylvania are such that many people there are glad for the gas boom. It brought jobs, even wealth in some cases. That the jobs probably won’t last forever, or that the wealth comes in exchange for risking one’s drinking water, are facts that are often brushed aside. When you’ve been ground down for generations by the boom-and-bust cycles of extractive industry, it’s hard to say no to high-paying jobs or lucrative gas leases.

After some years during which I saw more and more frack wells on every visit home (Washington County now contains 1,146, more than any other in the state) I started to notice pipelines, too. More clear-cut hillsides, more country roads torn up so that pipelines could pass underneath, more silt fences holding back erosion. It defined the lie that natural gas is “clean” energy.

All this has been on my mind as I’ve followed the saga of the ACP. Make no mistake: I’m one hundred percent glad that Dominion and Duke pulled the plug on this; it would have meant nothing but degradation for central Virginia and the environment we all share. But I can’t help seeing the contrast between the way people in central Virginia furiously fought the ACP and the way people in southwestern Pennsylvania have mostly welcomed fracking.

Separated by only a few hundred miles, the two regions are very different. The wealth, the value placed on scenic beauty and tourism, the generally high education level—all these things mark greater Charlottesville as distinct from my Rust Belt home. I’ve come to realize that it’s a privilege to be able to oppose fossil fuel development, to be able to see beyond purported short-term benefits for locals. Even for those anti-ACP activists who are members of marginalized groups—like the residents of Union Hill in Buckingham County, a historic African American community that would have suffered terrible air-quality impacts from the presence of an ACP compressor station—there is power in being connected to a larger movement of people with the means and the time to mount a sustained, sophisticated resistance.

Buckingham even got a visit from Al Gore in 2019; he denounced the proposed compressor station. Meanwhile, New York-based writer Eliza Griswold published Amity and Prosperity, a searing embedded account of water pollution and poverty set in the very village in which I grew up. Her book won the Pulitzer in 2019, but fracking in Washington County continues. Whereas Charlottesville has a certain ongoing national cachet—indelibly stamped on every nickel—there is something chronically invisible about greater Pittsburgh, and the Rust Belt, in American discourse. Like Appalachia, they get mentioned occasionally, almost anthropologically, and then dropped again.

Now that victory has come on the local scale, the questions have to expand in scope. Why was the pipeline proposed in the first place? What are the priorities for financial investment and political muscle among different energy paradigms (including conservation, a latent “resource” that is far from fully tapped)? What can local activists—who have now proven their efficacy—do to influence the broader conversation about where we get our power?

The answers will have bearing on our local environment, of course, but even more directly on places that, compared to this wealthy, exceptional region, are downtrodden, ignored, polluted, impoverished, and miseducated. Hallelujah: NO PIPELINE has become a reality. NO FRACKING (and while we’re at it, NO MOUNTAINTOP REMOVAL, NO NEW COAL PLANTS, YES SOLAR and YES WIND) should be next.

Categories
News

Pipeline voices: Activists look back on a historic victory

In 2018, Dominion began cutting down trees to make way for the Atlantic Coast Pipeline, which has now been canceled. Photo: Pipeline CSI

On July 5, Dominion Energy abruptly canceled the Atlantic Coast Pipeline, an $8 billion project that would have carried natural gas 600 miles from West Virginia to North Carolina. Environmental activists of all persuasions spent six years fighting the project before finally prevailing over the gigantic power corporation. As the victory set in, C-VILLE caught up with some of central Virginia’s anti-pipeline activists, giving them a chance to reflect—and look ahead. The following interviews have been edited for length and clarity.

 

John Laury

John Laury is the secretary of Friends of Buckingham. He lives in Union Hill, a historically Black community in rural Buckingham County that would have been disrupted by the pipeline.

C-VILLE: Where were you when you heard the news? What was that moment like?

JL: It was amazing to me. I have been praying about this. We have been in the struggle for—working on our sixth year. Really, I was elated. I felt the load was lifted off of me. But at the same time I wasn’t sure that what I heard was true.

Then my mind began to reflect back, to one of the Board of Supervisors meetings two years back, when our pastor Paul Wilson spoke. Dominion was in control at the time. 

He gave the example of David and Goliath. David, a little shepherd boy, with smooth stones and a slingshot, going against Goliath and all of his weaponry. But David was going in the name of God, and Goliath was going on his strength. 

We were always talked to as if this was a done deal. We were even told, “you’re wasting your time. You can’t go against Dominion.” This is what we were against.

Can you describe your home in Union Hill a little bit? What role do you think Union Hill played in the victory against the pipeline?

From where I live now, I was raised across the road. I would be the third generation raised on that 52 acres. We grew greens, and always a garden every year. Fruit trees. That generation believed in raising their food, preparing in summer for the winter.

I enjoyed the four seasons. I enjoyed the people and the natural earth. Spent a long time in the woods. Ate a lot of fruit off the trees the other generation had planted.

We depend on an underground water source, we have wells, that’s the source of water for our home.

As we spoke on panels in different areas of the state—some out of state—we realized that there were other states dealing with similar issues that were detrimental to them as well. The pattern was in the areas of people of color, and the poor, lower income areas…When we raised awareness as to what was happening here in Union Hill, that made a difference.

It’s not just a Union Hill issue. It’s a people issue. And as one of the quotes from Dr. Martin Luther King tells us, if people are hurting anywhere in this world, it should be the concern of all of us.

 

Alice Clair

Alice Clair is a local musician who grew up in Nelson County. Her childhood home is less than a mile from where the pipeline would have run.

C-VILLE: What was your reaction to the news?

AC: I was screaming and crying. No exaggeration, I was screaming and crying. Just, ultimate elation—and also relief. I always said it wasn’t going to happen. But for that to come true is a relief.

You’re a musician. You wrote some songs about the pipeline. What role do you think music played in the effort over the last six years?

Robin and Linda [Williams] are songwriters in Augusta County, and they wrote “We Don’t Want Your Pipeline.” And that has become a classic for us in Virginia, and maybe across the U.S., fighting pipelines.

When I was in high school, Dominion would set up information sessions for the public in our gym. We would go in and be protesting in my high school, people would bring their guitars and play that song. 

I think music, it motivates in every kind of way. If you can get a bunch of people together singing a song, that’s a great way to energize people towards a common good.

Can music help translate this victory into something even bigger?

I had friends travel out to fight against the Keystone and the DAPL pipelines. There’s been so much music that’s come out of that. Not only using old folk songs of protest, but making new ones. 

The fight is not over even though I won at home—I’m so lucky that I was one of the few that could win at home. My land out in Nelson is not going to be affected anymore. Time to turn our eyes to the next one. We’re looking at the Mountain Valley Pipeline now. It is not over, but we’re feeling darn good. 

This is how it should work. If our country may turn to a true democracy one day, that’s what it’s all about. The people using their voice. If the majority don’t want it, it shouldn’t be there. 

 

Ben Cunningham

Ben Cunningham is the field director of the Pipeline Compliance Surveillance Initiative, a group that used technology and community volunteers to document the construction violations Dominion committed as they started building the pipeline. 

C-VILLE: Where were you when you heard the news?

BC: I was about to bite into a really killer sandwich at 3:12pm on Sunday when my intern with my Pipeline CSI program, Virginia Paschal, texted me, all capital letters, CONGRATULATIONS!…Then she sent me a link to an article about it. Then I spent the next half hour just crying in joy and disbelief. 

What was the final straw for Dominion? 

We would never claim that this was all one group or all one strategy’s effort. Death by a thousand cuts—we all believe that’s what it took. It’s gone from Supreme Court hearings and all sorts of different legal battles, to people [protesting] in the trees trying to stop this and other pipelines, to science-and-technology-monitoring programs like ours, as well as strategies like political pressure. Really, community organizing is the bottom line.

…The story of environmental work in this country is the project never dies, people get burnt out, and so on. So I’ve just been plugging away at it, as have hundreds and maybe a thousand other people in various different ways.

Can the win against the ACP set an example for activists fighting other projects?

We’ve got, now, an example that we can win, against the largest political contributor to both parties in our state, arguably the most powerful corporation in our state, and one of the most powerful utilities in the country.

There are countless injustices around the world. I believe in starting where we live—it’s what we’re most familiar with, where we can be most powerful, and where we can effect the most change.

 

Categories
News

The city’s newest wilderness: Right outside town, community forest will offer a wild escape

The new Heyward Community Forest, near Ragged Mountain, is full of beautiful spots to explore. Photo: Steven Barling

Just a quick drive from the most urban sections of Charlottesville is a unique wild environment—acres of boulder forests, sunny woodlands where blueberries grow, and a creek with architectural ruins along its banks. It’s all part of a 144-acre property called the Heyward Community Forest, snugged against the Ragged Mountain Reservoir. The city acquired the land last November, and once trails are completed, it will offer a set of new adventures to local hikers.

“It feels like Shenandoah National Park out there, but you don’t have to drive 20 miles to get to it,” says Chris Gensic, the city’s parks and trails planner. He first became aware that the property was for sale about five years ago when he spotted a real estate sign while helping to rebuild Ragged Mountain trails after the expansion of the reservoir. “We thought it would be nice,” he remembers, “if that could be purchased as an adjacent property to Ragged Mountain”—already a favorite outdoor escape for city dwellers.

Along with the Piedmont Environmental Council, Gensic approached the landowner, a member of the Heyward family, the clan that had already donated the nearby Foxhaven Farm property to UVA. Through a community forest grant from the USDA, written by Gensic, the city secured about $600,000—roughly half the appraised value of the property—and the owner agreed to donate the rest of the value. 

“Chris is a bulldog,” says Devin Floyd, of the Center for Urban Habitats, which completed a natural resource inventory on the property in February. “He’ll have a vision and just keep going until he figures out how to do it.” In this case, the Heyward Community Forest became part of a sweeping swath of public land straddling I-64 and anchored by the reservoir—a place for solitary hikers and birders, naturalists, state ecologists, and schoolkids alike.

“There’s a big educational component to this,” says Gensic. Eventually he’d like to see a pavilion on the property for school groups to use, but the more immediate goal is to create trails. CUH’s survey work found a number of special features on the property that the trail design will showcase and protect.

Floyd emphasizes that the Ragged Mountains are a special environment—a higher-altitude terrain, rising from surrounding plains, where the underlying geology makes for strong biodiversity. At the Heyward property, his team cataloged plant and animal species, mapping the different habitat types that form a patchwork over the property. The CUH report declares this forest “uncommonly rich and varied.” Asked what’s notable about it, Floyd first mentions an unusually large collection of rock outcrops north of Reservoir Road.

“We find patches of that,” he says, “but we don’t find 20 acres of that. The ground cover is dominated by outcrops that are dome-shaped and flat. It’s just the most extraordinary forest.” 

Associated with these rocky places are occasional old-growth trees—not especially huge ones, stunted by the shallow soil, but up to 300 years old, spared by the loggers of previous generations precisely because they were small and gnarled.

The property also includes small stretches of grassland, which Floyd points out were once a lot more widespread in Virginia than most people realize, and what he calls a “rip-roaring stream” that he hopes will be closely approached by the new trails. “This stream reaches a steep gradient on the east side of the property, so there’s falls and slides and a geologic element that really fills the air with sound and smells and everything associated with a mountain stream,” he says. 

Along the creek is evidence of human activity from the past—remnants of drylaid stone buildings. “What we’ve come to understand is the families that lived in the Ragged Mountains had very little access to resources and they made do with what they had on their land,” Floyd says. “That produced an architectural signature that is unique in this area, possibly unique to the Raggeds.”

Finally, there’s a combination of habitat types the CUH identified as unusual enough to merit protection as a preserve within the community forest. One is an environment known as a Piedmont mafic barren, which features exposed bedrock on which native prickly pear cactus grows alongside lichens, mosses, and stunted trees. The CUH report stresses the rarity of this habitat—with less than 20 sizable, healthy examples known worldwide—and calls this habitat type “the crown jewel of ecosystems in our region.” 

These barrens are found next to xeric woodlands, also locally rare, with widely-spaced trees over shrubs like huckleberry and blueberry. Trails will skirt around these remarkable habitats, offering visual access from a spur trail while protecting the preserve from the impacts of human traffic. 

Floyd and Gensic are both excited about the potential for this property to host environmental education, given its easy accessibility from UVA and every primary and secondary school in town. “It’s pretty special because of its proximity to the urban core,” says Floyd. “It’s a resource for the citizens of Charlottesville to come and reboot, and there’s a lot to learn in the Ragged Mountains. Every time we look, we see something new.”

 

Categories
News

Imperfect solution: Activists warn that existing social service systems can’t fix problems with policing

Mental health advocate Myra Anderson warns that the social service systems need reform too. PC: Eze Amos

Since the violent arrest of an unhoused man on the Downtown Mall earlier this month, Defund Cville Police—along with numerous other activists and community members—have continued to call for the creation of a local mobile crisis unit, which would respond to emergency calls that the police are not equipped to handle.

Lori Wood, director of emergency and short term stabilization services at Region Ten Community Service Board, has expressed public support for the creation of such a unit, which she says could answer some calls related to mental health or substance abuse.

But radically shifting the city’s budget alone will not bring an end to systemic racism and oppression, specifically within mental health services, warns Black mental health advocate Myra Anderson.

“It’s moving money from one system that has historically and systemically not treated Black people right, [to] another system that has the same legacy,” says Anderson about Region Ten, a public agency—funded by local, state, and federal dollars—providing mental health, intellectual disability, and substance use services to Charlottesville and surrounding counties.

“Region Ten doesn’t need to be the go-to person [for the mobile crisis unit],” says Anderson, a former client who later became a board member and peer support specialist at the agency. “I feel like it’s Black skin…police are going to be on the scene anyway, based on personal biases that people [there] have.”

Former client Quezeann Williams also attests to these biases. At 10 years old, she says she was forced to go to Region Ten without her mother’s consent after she entered foster care, and was put on medications that “never made her feel good” and caused her to gain a lot of weight, among other side effects.

“I feel like because I was Black, what I said to the white people did not matter. It was their words against anything I felt, needed, or wanted,” says Williams, who graduated from Charlottesville High School this year. “I struggle from anxiety due to this being more so trauma than anything…It was one of the worst experiences I ever went through.”

Anderson began receiving services at Region Ten as a child in the ‘90s, and was diagnosed with PTSD and depression. After graduating from college, she says she returned to the agency for adult services, but was inflicted with even more trauma.

“The system caused me to be subjected to everything from cultural incompetency, to racial unawareness…to microaggressions,” she says. “There was a gap in racial empathy. And that has been consistent throughout the time I received services.”

These problems in mental health care systems exist nationwide. Black people, indigenous people, and people of color are more likely to receive poor quality of care and have their services end prematurely, among other disparities, according to the American Counseling Association.

Per federal law, Region Ten cannot comment on individual cases. However, it’s been working for several years to expand its cultural awareness and sensitivity as part of its strategic plan, says community relations coordinator Joanna Jennings.

“[We] offered staff and management the opportunity to attend a local racial and cultural humility training in the fall of 2018 and 2019,” she says. “These two training sessions began a journey for Region Ten that has opened up the conversation of systemic racism at all levels of the agency.”

In 2016, Anderson filed a formal complaint about her treatment with the Charlottesville Human Rights Commission. The complaint made its way up to the Virginia Human Rights Committee, and the following year, it ruled that Region Ten had unlawfully prevented her from receiving services for six years as retaliation for her complaints, slamming the agency with multiple violations.

Region Ten isn’t the only social service provider in Charlottesville that has demonstrated racial bias. An independent 2019 report on the city’s foster care system showed that Black and multiracial children were referred to child welfare services at a higher rate than white children, and that “some racial groups compared to others” experienced “less favorable outcomes” once within the system.

Instead of relying on existing social service institutions, Anderson—alongside local advocacy nonprofit Partner for Mental Health—plans to create a working group of peers, professionals, and other stakeholders from diverse backgrounds “to reimagine mental health without police intervention.”

The group will seek to understand the community’s needs and listen to the stories of “our most marginalized people who have engaged with our police while in mental distress,” she says. It will also study other mobile crisis units around the country and provide recommendations to City Council. The group hopes that starting from scratch will allow the new agency to focus on its work, without having to fight against biases in established institutions.

In recent years, Region Ten has created a team to lead its equity efforts, which plans to provide implicit racial bias training, among other goals and initiatives. It’s also looking to hire and retain more diverse staff.

“Region Ten recognizes that this is a long-term and multi-faceted commitment,” adds Jennings. “We will continue to press forward.”

While Anderson is in support of expanding additional behavioral health services through defunding the police, she believes Region Ten and other existing social service systems need to fix their “implicit biases” before receiving more money. “You can’t throw a band-aid on something that’s more like a gaping wound,” she says.

Categories
Coronavirus News

In brief: Happy trails, activists arrested, and more

The new bridge over Moores Creek plugs a gap in the Rivanna Trail. PC: Stephen Barling

Closing the loop

The Rivanna Trail has encircled Charlottesville for more than 20 years. Earlier this month, the trail became a little more complete, when a 140-foot-long pedestrian bridge was lowered into place over Moores Creek, closing one of the few remaining gaps in the trail’s 20-mile loop.

Local environmentalists expressed enthusiasm about the bridge, which was paid for by Albemarle County and the developers working on rehabbing the old woolen mill that overlooks the river.

“This is economic development that focuses on making the community a better place for all,” said Piedmont Environmental Council community organizer Peter Krebs in a press release praising the bridge. “By providing more places to walk and bike, and everyday access to nature, projects like this support residents’ health, productivity, and prosperity.”

                                                              PC: Stephen Barling

Photographs from the middle of the 20th century show that a wooden footbridge once crossed the creek near where the new bridge sits, but the woolen mill changed hands multiple times over the years, and the original bridge disappeared.

Because the pandemic has upended much of our regular forms of recreation, and made gathering indoors unsafe, the Rivanna Trail has had a significant increase in use in recent months. A trail counter from earlier in the spring noted that this year, the trail has seen around four times as much foot traffic as the same period last year.

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Quote of the week

“Nothing would be worse for the economy than UVA students coming back [and causing] a super spreader event.”

—City Councilor Michael Payne, on Charlottesville’s emergency ordinance

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In brief

Richmond arrests

Protests continue in Richmond, and police continue to arrest people willy-nilly. This week, journalists for VCU’s student paper The Commonwealth Times, as well as two activists with Charlottesville ties and large social media followings, Molly Conger and Kristopher Goad, were among those detained on dubious grounds. Conger was held overnight, and after her release, tweeted that the police “are trying to break our spirits, but they’re only proving our point.”

Travelers grounded

Charlottesville-based educational travel company WorldStrides, one of the larger employers in town, filed for bankruptcy last week. Meanwhile, some UVA students received mailers this week from the study abroad office, advertising future trips. That’s optimistic, as most nations have banned American travelers from entering.

Paul Harris PC: UVA

Tenure reversed

UVA made national news earlier in the spring when it unexpectedly denied two well-qualified Black faculty members tenure. Now, the school is eating crow: last week, Dr. Paul Harris, an assistant professor of education, announced that the decision had been overturned, and his tenure case had been approved by provost Liz Magill.

Mask mandate

As the number of coronavirus cases continue to rise, Charlottesville and Albemarle County both decided on Monday to revert to certain Phase Two guidelines. Beginning August 1, masks will be mandatory in public, indoor capacity for restaurants will be capped at 50 percent, and gatherings of more than 50, excluding spontaneous demonstrations, will be prohibited.

Categories
Arts Culture

PICK: Chickenhead Blues Band

Get out to get down: Charlottesville favorite, the Chickenhead Blues Band, is back—live on stage—no logins required! NOLA’s own Aric van Brocklin on guitar, joins Skip Haga on the keyboards, with Granville Mullings on drums, Andy Rowland blowing the sax, and Victor Brown banging on the bass to bring their bad boogie-woogie to an outdoor set. Tickets are limited, and colorful flower circles spaced 10 feet apart will keep the audience distanced, while allowing for extra dance moves.

Friday, 7/24. $7, 5pm. Ix Art Park, 522 Second St. SE. 207-2355.

Categories
News

In brief: Flint Hill gets A-OK, Freitas lands primary, and more

Fifteen percent of the housing in the new Flint Hill housing development will be affordable units PC: Roudabush, Gale & Associates, Inc.

Second chance

City Council approves Flint Hill development

After nearly an hour of discussion, and midway through a meeting that lasted until 2:30am, City Council voted July 20 to move forward with the Flint Hill housing development, a set of new homes to be constructed in Fry’s Spring.

Last year, council rejected an initial proposal for the project, but Southern Development has since made substantial changes to its plan. It now wants to build 37 single-family homes and two eight-unit condominium buildings, dumping its original plan for 50 townhouses.

The developers have also boosted the number of affordable units, from 10 percent to at least 15 percent. The units will be affordable for 30 years, and priced to house residents from 25 to 60 percent of area median income.

With a density of six units per acre, there will be some room left for homeowners to add accessory dwelling units, such as a basement apartment or guest house. And there will be almost five acres of green space along Moores Creek, including trails and places to gather.

Last month, the Charlottesville Planning Commission unanimously endorsed the revamped plans.

Habitat for Humanity of Greater Charlottesville has partnered with Southern Development, and will build 30 percent of the units. Because the average area median income for Habitat families is 32 percent, Habitat’s president, Dan Rosensweig, said that Flint Hill would be “really good” for them, and for the city.

“It’s the kind of neighborhood our families have told us they’d like to live in,” he added. “This isn’t an answer to all affordable housing issues…[but] we’re really excited to be part of this project.”

Multiple people voiced their support for the development during public comment, including a current Habitat homeowner.

While Mayor Nikuyah Walker had several concerns, including when families would be able to move into the affordable units, she admitted the project was “better than anything” she’s seen regarding affordable housing since she’s been on council.

Two ordinances and a resolution for the development will be put on the consent agenda for council’s next meeting on August 3, and the project will move forward from there.

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Quote of the week

“As you consider defunding the police, my message to you is to fund diversity in crisis responders…[The public mental health system] has just as much systemic bias issues as law enforcement.”

—Black mental health advocate Myra Anderson, speaking to City Council.

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In brief

Military grade

On Monday, City Council voted to ban the Charlottesville Police Department from obtaining weapons from the military and participating in military training. But ahead of the meeting, Planning Commission member Rory Stolzenberg pointed out a variety of loopholes in the resolution—military equipment could still be purchased from private sellers, and the resolution doesn’t address the military-style equipment already in CPD’s arsenal. Stolzenberg, along with other public speakers, urged council to pull the policy from the consent agenda and strengthen it, but council passed the resolution anyway. “Just because it’s not pulled tonight, doesn’t mean we’re not going to work on this,” said Vice-Mayor Sena Magill.

Beer and spirits

Three Notch’d Brewing Company is the latest local business to strip Confederate imagery from its brand. For years, the Charlottesville-based brewers have been selling The Ghost APA, which is named for John S. Mosby, a Charlottesville native and Confederate officer nicknamed the Gray Ghost. The beer will now be called Ghost of the James, a reference to the reserve fleet of U.S. military boats currently stored on the river. The packaging has shifted from gray to blue.

Nick Frietas PC: Gage Skidmore

Freitas tries again

Last week, Nick Freitas won the Republican primary to challenge freshman U.S. Congresswoman Abigail Spanberger for Virginia’s competitive 10th District seat. Freitas lost to far-right statue defender Corey Stewart in the 2018 Republican U.S. Senate primary, and won his current seat in the House of Delegates through a write-in campaign, after failing to file paperwork to get himself on the ballot. He nearly made the same mistake this year, but the Virginia Board of Elections extended the deadline for filing, a move the Democratic Party has contested.

Categories
Arts Culture

In and out: Feminist Union of Charlottesville Creatives explore new selves

“Inside” features work by 18 local female-identifying, gender-queer, and non-binary artists in an online exhibition in collaboration with The Gallery at Studio IX. Viewers can attend the show’s online reception on July 23 from 5 to 6:30pm via Zoom. Go to heyfucc.com for more information. Courtesy of the Artists

The acronym for the Feminist Union of Charlottesville Creatives—FUCC—is pronounced exactly like the four-letter word it brings to mind.

“FUCC facilitates opportunities for our members to have an outlet for their creative expression,” says mixed-media artist and member Sri Kodakalla, “Especially during times of uncertainty, it can be such an empowering thing to be a part of a community of like-minded individuals.”

Founded in 2017 by sculptor Lily Erb and painter Sam Gray, FUCC began as a means to connect and support female-identifying, gender-queer, and non-binary artists through events like clothing swaps, art shows, and ideas exchanged over social media.

In late 2019 and early 2020, they began planning and collecting submissions for their first juried show, “Enough,” to be held in the summer at The Gallery at Studio IX. The show would include a dance party, spoken word performances—a “whole extravaganza,” Kodakalla says. It was part of the FUCC’s effort to hold events that brought artists together to collaborate and share their skills.

But as COVID-19 took hold, arts communities and organizations in Charlottesville and around the world had to cancel in-person events. (Americans for the Arts estimates that due to coronavirus, nonprofit arts organizations have lost nearly $5 billion, with 62 percent of creative workers and artists now unemployed.)

With the help of fellow FUCC member and printmaker Ramona Martinez (a C-VILLE Weekly contributor), Kodakalla did what artmaking asks of its participants every day: Come up with a new idea.

The “Enough” show became “Inside,” an online exhibition in collaboration with Studio IX that showcases the work of 18 local womxn artists, including Erb, Gray, Kodakalla, Martinez, Laura Lee Gulledge, Barbara Shenefield, Hannah ThomasClarke, Abigail Wilson, and others. In each of the works displayed in the virtual show, the artists present unique and deeply personal responses to the internal, external, local, and global chasmic shifts of today’s reality.

“A lot of people have decided that they aren’t going back to work the way they used to,” says Kodakalla. “Or that they won’t take on every opportunity as they come—that they’ll save money, volunteer, and do more social justice outreach. They’re realizing that they’re an introvert, or need more time to themselves. …While the theme of the show is reflection, it encompasses so much more than that.”

As viewers scroll through the works of “Inside,” they can click each image to read an artist statement and bio. Though medium and palette vary widely, perhaps what unites the show is an exploration of the body and its complex relationship with interior and exterior forces—the mind, the natural world, and other beings who inhabit that world. In some pieces, figures reach and fall through empty, dark voids; in others, plants, animals and the man-made anxiously encroach upon human forms as they envelop faces or entire bodies. 

Martinez points to Shannon Smith’s digital print, “Shift,” which juxtaposes the body’s organic shapes against the sharp, repeated edges of geometric shapes—all portrayed in a palette of saturated jewel tones and pastels. It’s a response to the deep grief and mourning she felt over the abrupt end to her college career, Smith says in her artist’s statement. She uses the female form as a means to explore her body in quarantine.

Painter Meghan Smith also investigates quarantine through the lens of the female body. In “Pink Light,” she presents a tense, uncomfortable self-portrait with three hands grasping to apply makeup to her face. One draws a dark line into her eyebrow and another applies concealer under her eye as a black bra pokes out above her tank top.

“Even in isolation, where in theory I could finally indulge a ‘self’ that has nothing to do with how others see me, I’m still stuck in that cycle,” Smith writes in her artist statement. “To feel productive, I need a bra and combed hair and plucked eyebrows. To speak confidently on Zoom, I need my heavy-duty concealer and a fake plastered smile. My outside still dictates my inside and I’m not sure how to escape.”

For Martinez, it’s not surprising that the outside world shapes one’s internal world. She believes the internal is a microcosm for the external.

“It’s no accident that all of these massive societal changes are taking place a few months after everyone is forced to be inside with their demons,” she says. “It’s a huge transition energetically.”

It’s a transition that Martinez, Kodakalla, and many others are still getting used to. They miss the energy of FUCC’s in-person events and the opportunities they presented to connect. Yet, the co-curators feel hopeful about what experiencing art virtually could inspire for artists and art-appreciators alike. They are planning more shows like “Inside” and more opportunities for artists through media like zines, snail mail, and public street art.

“As artists, how can we communicate about this moment that we’re in and the old world dying?” Martinez asks. “How can we as a collective take those ideas and have a conversation with others who find our work? …We want it to exist beyond the gallery scene.”

Kodakalla, too, speaks to the possibility that the idea of normal no longer exists. She seems to stand resiliently against a world where daily conversations among co-workers, friends, or family members invoke phrases like “when this is over,” or “when things go back to normal.” And maybe, that’s a beautiful thing.

Categories
Culture Living

Good company: Easy-drinking Virginia wines suited to the season

From rosé to vermouth, locally produced wines can take the heat off this summer. Image: Virginia Hamrick

As summer temperatures rise, happy hour thoughts turn to wines that refresh. How best to quench your thirst on the deck or by a pool?  What to pair with afternoon picnics or early evening cookouts?

Here are a few recommended local options to help you keep drinking well through the rest of the summer. This isn’t meant to be comprehensive or a list of “best” wines, but rather an invitation to try something different. After all, isn’t the “best” wine often the one you have in a glass on a beautiful day, especially when it’s shared with good company?

Rosé

Rosé is popular in spring, but it can be appropriate for the hotter months as well. The Crosé 2019 from King Family Vineyards is a good pick. Made from merlot, it has a nice lift from underlying acidity and summer flavors such as lime, grapefruit, and watermelon. It’s also available in 187ml (about 6 oz.) cans, the perfect one-glass portion and an easy format to transport and keep chilled ($21.95 available as single bottle or a four-pack of cans, kingfamilyvineyards.com).

The 2019 Rosé from Early Mountain Vineyards ($25, earlymountain.com) is a personal favorite and I’m seeing it on more tables and in more glasses this summer. Produced from a blend of grapes that changes each year, the 2019 is full of acidity and pleasant flavors of strawberry, barely ripe peaches, and white flowers. The lingering finish contains hints of bitter grapefruit that encourage you to take another sip or a bite of food.

Sparkling Wine

Like rosé, sparkling wine is a great choice for summer. Bubbles are always appropriate, but traditionally made sparkling wines, with acidity and bright flavors of citrus fruits, are excellent options for any sunny activity. I’ve written about local sparkling wine previously in these pages, and it’s easy to once again recommend the Thibaut-Janisson Blanc de Chardonnay ($29.99, tjwinery.com) for both its quality and delicious flavors. You may also find Thibaut-Janisson Virginia Fizz in some stores. It’s sold at a slightly lower price point and made in a style similar to prosecco.

Albariño

Best known as a variety that thrives in Spain and Portugal, albariño is attracting attention in California and the Pacific Northwest wine regions as well. There’s not a lot of albariño in Virginia, but the examples I’ve tried suggest it holds great promise for our region. A crisp, refreshing, and high-acid white wine, it’s perfect for a sweltering day. I recommend the Afton Mountain Vineyards 2019 Albariño ($28, aftonmountainvineyards.com), which is fresh and lean with flavors of lime, clementine, and hints of green grass. There’s an underlying salinity, characteristic of albariño, and if you’re not already sitting on a beach, this wine will prompt you to close your eyes and imagine that you are.

Chardonel

Chardonel is a hybrid grape variety, a cross between seyval and chardonnay, developed by Cornell University in 1953. While not all hybrids make great wine, chardonel is known for superior wine quality and cold hardiness, which makes it well suited to Virginia. Locally, winegrowers and winemakers have expressed interest in working more with hybrids, and chardonel is one of the more promising options. The 2018 Chardonel from 53rd Winery and Vineyard ($19.95, 53rdwinery.com) is a crisp and refreshing example with flavors of green apples, white pears, and lime. If you’re a chardonnay-lover, this is something new and interesting to try.

Vermouth

Vermouth may not come to mind immediately when talking about summer wines. Originating in Italy as a medicinal product, vermouth has found its fame as an aperitif. Vermouth starts with a base wine to which botanicals (herbs, spices, roots, etc.) and a bit of brandy are added. In this country, vermouth gets a bad rap because most people first experience inexpensive bottles that have spoiled after they’ve been left sitting on a home bar for years. Vermouth is wine, and just like wine it needs to be consumed relatively soon after opening and before it spoils. Around the globe, vermouth is held in high regard as a versatile and delicious beverage that can be adapted to any occasion and time of day.

Flying Fox Vineyards produces four vermouths, each with different botanical flavors added, one to represent each of the seasons ($35 each, flyingfoxvineyard.com). Don’t feel limited by the season written on the bottle, however, as these can be refreshing any time of the year and you may find your own favorite among the four.

The vermouth from Rosemont of Virginia ($25, rosemontofvirginia.com) is produced in partnership with Capitoline Vermouth in Washington, D.C. (capitolinevermouth.com). It is a bold expression of sweet citrus flavors with a base of local herbs and a satisfying bitter finish.

Vermouth can be served unadorned, on the rocks with a twist, chilled with a splash of soda water, or in a variety of cocktails. Perhaps the most famous use of vermouth is in the classic wine cocktail known as a “spritz,” which combines vermouth with sparkling wine and a splash of soda water. Experiment a bit and you may find that vermouth becomes your mainstay drink for many summers to come.

Categories
Arts Culture

Screens: First Cow is a deftly crafted story of virtue and friendship

A Chinese immigrant running from the law and a loner with cooking skills form a unique connection as they navigate early 19th-century life in the Pacific Northwest. A24

As our country struggles with its foundational mythology, we are faced with the question of how the story would be framed if it were written by those whose names are lost to history yet participated in its creation. Though First Cow is not made with a didactic tone, it asks us to consider vital questions as we reconcile with our national identity. How many dreams have gone unrealized due to a lack of capital or luck? How many successful people built empires on awful crimes that went undiscovered or unpunished? How many paid the ultimate price for small infractions? There is no healing in First Cow, it is a plea for us to reorient our empathy, and to meditate on historical wrongs that appear buried yet remain very much with us.

First Cow was co-written, directed, and edited by Kelly Reichardt with (her frequent writing partner) Jonathan Raymond, on whose novel it was based. The story follows “Cookie” Figowitz (John Magaro) and King Lu (Orion Lee) as two unlikely friends attempting to break free from their station in the Oregon Territory. It’s an inhospitable and lawless setting, where people take as much as they want from the land and seem to get ahead, so the pair steal milk from the cow of a wealthy landowner (Toby Jones), and with Cookie’s exceptional baking skills, they create a small sensation with baked goods.

People have used the term “slow cinema” to describe Reichardt’s film and that’s not a slight, it’s mostly due to her naturalistic pacing. Yet, every moment of First Cow is filled with emotions, often contrasting ones. As Cookie milks the cow, we know this could cost him and his friend their lives, yet Reichardt focuses on his bond with the cow. This transgression allows us to fill the moment with our feelings: We hope he will succeed, dreading that he won’t, all while he makes the cow feel like it’s the most important being on earth. He milks with love, he bakes with love, he shares his gift and dreams of a better future, and the film carries the same tone throughout. Meanwhile, we are the ones who see the proverbial time bomb. Reichardt trusts the audience’s intellect as much as King Lu trusts Cookie and as much as Cookie trusts the cow.

First Cow is also the story of friendship between Cookie and King Lu. They meet on the way to Oregon as Cookie travels with fur trappers and King Lu flees for his life after killing a man. Neither attempts to game the other, and acts of kindness with no expectation of reward are reciprocated. Cookie can’t seem to harm anything; he can’t bring himself to hunt, even recoiling when handed trapped squirrels to eat. King Lu’s circumstances have been different, but he does not define himself by past actions that were committed out of necessity. It’s a true partnership, with no leverage, no schemes, and no deception between two men who want the same thing.

The film has a brief prologue set in the present day, where a young woman (Alia Shawkat) and her dog discover two complete skeletons just below the surface, meaning the bodies were probably left in the open air, never fully buried. They appear intact and neatly placed, but there is no marker. Who are they, and why did they die? This question lingers throughout the film, as we wait for the story to reveal the series of events that lead to that discovery two centuries later.

The politics of First Cow are inherent in its filmmaking. The prologue brings our attention to forgotten history, and the narrative imagines unrealized greatness that was intentionally quashed, either because it overstepped artificial boundaries created by powerful men, or because the friends were not ruthless enough in pursuing it. Cookie and King Lu rely on nature, and want to help people they don’t know. Chief Factor (Jones) tries to own nature, measuring the worth of a beaver population against its fashion value in Paris and China. He owns the cow, but he does not respect the animal. Though he enjoys Cookie’s use of her milk (of which he is unaware), he has no idea how to use it. These are the two paths America could take, and instead of a foundation of helping people and relying on nature, we chose to depopulate wildlife for fashion and food, and flatten forests to farm too much livestock. Shawkat’s character may not realize it, but that is the history she’s discovered.

First Cow/ PG-13, 122 minutes/ Streaming (Amazon Prime)