Philadelphia Part I

This morning Hans, Alesha, and I drove up to Philadelphia for the weekend.  Many tolls later we parked in the middle of downtown, which was much smaller than I anticipated.  We walked around the corner to a small deli that was supposed to serve some of the best cheesesteaks in town, Campos.

The beef was very tender and the roasted red peppers were a pleasant surprise, but the best part for me was the soft warm Hoagie it was served on.  In addition to our meal we ordered a round of fresh pretzels, served with a mustard that was so strong it is sure to melt sinuses.

Next, we joined a guided tour of Eastern State Penitentiary, of which I knew little prior to visiting.  Our tour guide was very informative and gave a very interesting narrative about the  prison's history as we walked the  extremely cold and often ominous cell blocks.

When Eastern State first opened in 1829 the worldwide prison system was relatively dire and corrupting.  All prisoners, regardless of the severity of the crimes they were suspected of, were contained in single large rooms, spawning prison violence and often acting as schools of crime as younger criminals gained insight from more experienced ones during their imprisonment.  Eastern State was built with the Quaker ideal and belief that if criminals were kept in quiet and solitude nearly all hours of the day, they would spend their time reflecting on their actions and eventually become truly penitent, hence the word penitentiary.  Indeed at first the prisoners were isolated, as the walls between cells were 18 inches thick and they were allowed one hour of supervised outdoor recreation in their own pen.  Each cell block hallway consisted of small food doors (eventually changed to functioning cell doors).  Eventually the prison expanded to include more cell blocks and multiple stories.

Another novel characteristic of the prison is its distinct spoke design, where each block extends from a central surveillance rotunda, from which the original seven cell blocks could be observed by a single guard who stood in the very center.  

Another advancement was with respect to sanitation.  Each cell had its own toilet (when the prison was built even President Andrew Jackson did not have a toilet in the White House) however the water pressure in the building was poor and they were flushed about once a week.

As the nearby city of Philadelphia grew, the agricultural fields that surrounded Eastern State were replaced by small neighborhoods, including an elementary school across the street.  It wasn't until the prison's largest riot in the 1960's that the neighbors complained.  During the riot the escapees decided to burn the records building in order to clear their names but it was by the sight of smoke that people outside the walls realized something was very wrong inside Eastern State.  After recognizing the possible public safety hazard  because of its location, the prison was shut down in 1971.

Over the next few decades the site fell into disrepair and various companies sought to renovate the property, including one dubious proposal to build high-end condominiums (billed as "the ultimate gated community").

In 1988 Philadelphia's mayor Wilson Goode was successfully petitioned by the Eastern State Penitentiary Task Force to preserve the site.

Some of the tour stops have been fixed so that visitors can safely explore the cells, but to me the most exciting parts of the building were the ones which were trashed and fantastically decayed.  The depressing single skylights in each cell gave the peeled and cracked walls their own spotlight.

The Al Capone Suite

Hans and Alesha act out soap-dropping

From the prison, we traveled less than a mile to the banks of the Schuykill River and visited the Philadelphia Museum of Art.  As we warmed ourselves in the lobby a tour guide approached and asked if we'd like to join the next American Art wing tour.  Feeling the bon chance of good timing, we followed her to the first floor of the museum (at first being the her only customers too).

We were introduced to the gallery by two large wooden statues of Comedy and Tragedy, which were commissioned to decorate the outside of a theater.  The artist was originally known as a ship figurehead maker, and our tour guide mentioned that the symbolism of the statues would reflect what we saw in the gallery itself.

We were introduced to an intimate portrait of prominent Philadelphians Thomas and Sarah Mifflin, and later we were shown a Chippendale tea table (from the same period during which the Mifflin's lived).  While the museum does not hold Copley's painting of Paul Revere making a tea kettle (he was a silversmith by trade), it does have one of Revere's actual apple-shaped silver kettle. 

One of the highlights for me was seeing Charles Wilson Peale's optical-illusion Staircase Group, probably one of five things I remember from my U.S. History class in High School.  Shoutout to Mr. Brown!

Another impressive piece was a large stained glass window entitled Spring, designed by John LaFarge.  If the opalescent color washes in the glass are reminiscent of a Tiffany Lamp, it is because the glass staining technique was patented by LaFarge and employed by the Tiffany company.

One of the most impressive artists, and incidentally, a Philadelphian, Thomas Eakins was known for his precision and obsession with capturing the exact poise and position of the human body, even spending some years as a medical student to learn about anatomy.  In one painting, he wanted to capture an opera singer so precisely that any musician would believe she was singing the exact notes which were carved into the bottom of the frame.

After the tour ended we had about an hour left to explore the rest of the museum before it closed.  We all wandered our separate ways.  Some of the other exhibits included an entire Indian temple hall c. 1550, a French abbey cloister c. 1270-80's (with functioning fountain), and a Japanese ceremonial tea house c. 1917 (with real bamboo).  There was an impressive Medieval armory that had an interesting codpiece display.  

Sadly, the museum closed long before any of us could view all the galleries we hoped to, but upon leaving via the east exit, a stunning sunset view of the downtown skyline greeted our eyes.  As we strode down the 72 steps of the pavilion we saw many other visitors reenacting, as one bystander observed, "a moment in time".  Alesha joined in the demonstrations.  All the way back the the car she and I lustily sang the theme from Rocky as Hans pretended he didn't know us.

As it was dinner time we went to a recommended spot in the fashionable Rittenhouse Square District called Pietro's and had some of the best coal-oven pizza I ever had.

At the end of the night we crossed the Delaware (considerably faster and warmer than George Washington did in 1776) to Neeeeeew Jersey!  Nuf said.  It was a cold night in a cold motel room.  We had to hike across the snowy drifts around the swimming pool in nearly-zero temperatures to get into our room where the heater sputtered and died within an hour of checking in.  We reflected that Eastern State Penitentiary was probably better heated back in the day.  Gloomily, I asked the concierge for a different room as we'd been trying to make the best of it for the last hour but still had been unable to take our jackets off.

After reviewing the itinerary for tomorrow, I fell asleep to The Pink Panther Strikes Again.