Photo: Yorkshire Sculpture Park- Barbara Hepworth’s The Family of Man
If you are wondering why our journeying took us to Dublin, Berlin, Leeds in the UK, and Amsterdam, let me explain the context.
When we received an invitation to my grand-nephew’s bar mitzvah in Leeds, we decided to plan a trip around that occasion. Having wanted to go to Berlin for quite some time, we thought we’d start there, but discovered there were no direct flights from Boston to Berlin. We’d long wanted to visit Dublin as well, and as there are direct flights from Boston to Dublin, we decided to go there first as we could then easily head to Berlin. So we started in Dublin, moved on to Berlin, and next arrived in Leeds a few days before Joseph’s bar mitzvah. Amsterdam was a serendipitous stop on our way home because there was not a direct flight from Leeds to Boston.
In contrast to Dublin’s taxis and Berlin’s extensive trains, busses, and subways, Leeds was a city filled with Ubers. It’s not a small city; nor is it enormous, and we found ourselves within walking distance of much, and a short Uber ride away from much more. Unlike Dublin, where most of our taxi drivers told us they were native Dubliners, many of our drivers in Leeds told us they hailed from Pakistan and were driving Uber after having lost their jobs in tech. The drivers we met were friendly, interested in talking about their families and US and European politics, and expressed gratitude they had a means to make an income.
Along with visiting with my niece and her family in Leeds, we learned that both Henry Moore and Barbara Hepworth had studied art in Leeds, and that the Yorkshire Sculpture Park and its 500-acres of parklands were about a half an hour from the city. Among the Henry Moore sculptures and the works of other artists, the sculpture park houses Barbara Hepworth’s “The Family of Man,” a truly incredible undertaking. It was amazing to be amidst her creations on that vast expanse of land. Visiting the Henry Moore Institute and the Leeds City Museum were additional highlights. Adding to what unexpectedly had become our “art immersion trip,” we discovered that David Hockney is from Saltaire, about a half an hour from Leeds. When we learned that Salts, a former woolen manufacturing company run by Sir Titus Salt, had been turned into an art gallery which included formidable Hockney works, we were off to explore the gallery, and the town of Saltaire, which was built around the factory so that workers could enjoy a lifestyle supported by their work.
Perhaps because my sister married “a Brit” when I was a teenager and I’ve been to England many times, I don’t feel huge cultural differences when I go there. However, I do notice differences, not the least of which is the accent. However, over the years I’ve spent the bulk of my UK time in London not Leeds. On this trip I noticed how different the Yorkshire accent is from the London accent. But accents are not language barriers, and when differences do exist, communicating may be more effortful but it’s not an impediment.
After a few days of art exploration, lovely dinners, and pub nights, the impetus for our travels, Joseph’s bar mitzvah, had arrived. He was poised, articulate, compassionate, and unusually self-aware, sensitive, and reflective. It was joyful to be able to celebrate him, although bittersweet as just over a year ago I was in London with my sister – his grandmother – during her final weeks. Now we felt her presence, and her thundering absence. Love, loss, and pain are universal, no matter the dialect, the accent, or the language.
