Welcome to the blog of writer and musician Andrew Martin. Here I'll post original photographs and observations as I encounter the history and culture of the San Fernando Valley, the City of the Angels, Alta California and the far-flung Pacific Rim… but mostly the Valley.
…but they would certainly have prevented it ever happening. So, for that matter, might the beavers’ replacements in power, the Dutch, if they had kept charge of the middle-Atlantic watershed. They’re half beavers themselves.
“There goes the neighborhood!”
Oddly, while researching the Van Nuys saga I’ve been intensely Viewing the geography and historic watercourses and settlements along the rivers of New Netherland — the South (Delaware), the North (Hudson) and the Fresh (Connecticut). These huge watersheds — including the Schuylkill, Millstone, Mullica, Raritan – are exactly what got pounded last night, and are still underwater.
Well, fat cats hate water. Maybe subway stations underwater will finally convince some pretty powerful people in Lower Manhattan that global warming is a — oh wait, what am I saying. They’ll just helicopter onto the roofs of their skyscrapers to get to their offices tomorrow morning. They won’t even notice the harbor’s in the lobby.
The navigation lines in the WIC maps converge for some occult reason on Westchester, somewhere east of the Tappan Zee. Mt. Kisco? At 302 feet?
DUTCH STUDIES DEPT.
“We can go to a pub or we can take a beer, and we can come up with many ideas. But: to take an idea; to take the consequences of the idea…to take all the ins and outs, and fill in…and make it work, all the whole, the whole…story….now that is quite a thing. That really becomes something.”
— The opening quote of “Dutchness,” interviewing Dutch designers on their national style. Link below!
The Dutch Republic coalesced in 1581 among the combined Frisians, Groningers, Hollanders, and Utrechters, and most Flemings. The Calvinist Protestant northern states bloodily and relentlessly staved off (literally) re-conquest by their Catholic Spanish overlords in the 80Years’ War. Out of that harrowing struggle for identity was born “Dutchness:” Which is the title of a delightful documentary that interViews Dutch designers on their stijl: https://youtu.be/opzKlkJVm-c
Nuis is the smallest, least significant dorp in the modern province of Groningen, named for the central city, which was once Groeningen, ‘Greeneries.’ This bit of fertile coastal upland is where Anglo-Saxons had previously farmed and intermarried with the Frisians. A thousand years later, when it was the County of East Friesland, this is where the ancestors of Isaac Van Nuys came from, to America. Het Nij Huis could mean the “New House” or the “Near House.” But when Nijhuis was NieuwHuis, two or three generations before Aucke Jansen left it to “Build the Wall” on Holland’s American border, it was the newest, but still the smallest, least significant dorp in a vast vanished lordship called Ommelanden. Princes come, princes go, ditto several different Reformations, frequent invasions from Louis 14th to Napoleon to Adolph Hitler, and finally 70 years of Post-War economic miracle in the Netherlands — and little Nuis is … little Nuis.
From Carrie V. Allen’s “A Record of the Family of Isaac Van Nuys (or Van Nice) of Harrodsburg, KY, son of Isaac Van Nuys of Millstone, NJ,” 1916. Digital PDF at wvancestry.com
By 1651, when Aucke Jansen was hired as a carpenter by the West India Company, the United Provinces were the richest nation on the globe, backed by their astonishing sea-and-don’t-forget-river-power. And — this is the embarrassment of riches — simply greedy for more.
The WarenhuisThe Front Office — West Indisch Huis
We’ll look back later on the rise of the merchants of Amsterdam; but their creation, the WIC, was a corporate trading monopoloy for the “whole Western Hemisphere” set up by the Estates General of the Netherlands, a complement to the fearsome East India Company. [Combine two Hemispheres, and you get the punctuation mark atop Amsterdam’s Stadhuis:]
The colors of the Geoctrooieerde West Indische Compagnie — the Chartered West Indies Company. I never realized before but according to Newnetherlandinstitute.org, the shift from orange to red in the Dutch national colors, about 1650, was more or less gradual and inadvertent. One theory is the orange was too bright to “read” against the glare of sea and sky. Another theory is the orange paint faded quickly. It seems like both theories are really two halves of the same theory. But the orange stripe lives on in the flags of the City of New York and the City of Albany.
Van Nuys was a cognomen before it was the family surname. There were so many “Jansens” in the colony, even several other carpenters’ families, that Company recorods had to distinguish them by where they were born. The Company recruited so many carpenters in 1651 because before that, by mismanagement, by double-dealing from their executives (like Peter Minuit, whom I nominate for the honor, “Father of the Non-Compete Clause”), and most alarmingly, by the recurring incidents of rash, drunken shoot-ups of friendly Indians, the trading post at New Amsterdam, and its outlying farms, now faced concerted Indian counter-attack.
The Company was losing money, despite the fortunes in beaver pelts being made by individuals in the market. After 35 years in business, the Company was several hundred thousand guilders in the red on the New Netherland account. A change in board membership, and the appointment of Peter Stuyvesant as governor in 1647, signaled a new effort to ship over actual Dutch farmers capable of growing food and families on small plots. And by preference, the ideal farmer colonist would be also either a professional artisan with an existing family, or a professional soldier without one. Thus, immigrants who would be capable of building an actual Dutch colony. [The previous colonists were too often either jobbing traders, in and out with the tides and uncommitted to the place; or wild-cat fortune hunters who ran off into the woods to sell brandy and firearms to the Indians in exchange for contraband beaver pelts, which they smuggled through the woods to the English at New Haven. [The Co. had accused Peter Minuit of doing just this, and they recalled him as Governor in 1627. Back in Europe, Minuit got revenge by selling his knowledge of the country to the Swedes, who launched him right back to America to build their “New Christiania,” to compete with New Netherland. This was a terrible shonde, for the board back in Mokum.]
To foreshadow the later events of Aucke Jansen’s story a bit, get acquainted with the Flatbush Reformed Church, which is the Mother Church of the Dutch Reformed faith in America. The famous old relic we may visit today is in fact the fourth church building on the site. The first Flatbush church, the original pioneer construction of planks and shingles, as well as its parsonage, were framed, according to Stuyvesant’s measurements and design, by Aucke Jansen van Nuys between 1654-1660. We will revisit this episode in detail. For now, it is enough to say, that Aucke played a central role in the implantation of the Dutch Church in New Netherland, and that this Church itself played a central role in the survival and florescence of Dutchness in America’s history.
The first church on this site was framed by Aucke. This revered ancient colonial relic, is the fourth.Mary French writes a blog at nycemeter.wordpress.blog. Believe it or not I can’t link you to her article. I can link you to the brave Haitian Times, which covers the noble effort to put up an historical marker about the forgotten Black Cemetery, where New Amsterdam and Brooklyn families buried their slaves well into the 19th century.
I have not found any evidence that the Van Nuyses owned slaves; they certainly did not in Aucke’s or his children’s generation. But a significant percent of the colonists did own one or two, and throughout its history the whole colony benefitted from the labor of the Company’s slaves. An often overlooked part of African-American history is the importation of slaves to the colonies on Dutch ships; on arrival they were auctioned and re-traded among individual wealthy merchants, who would then re-sell and re-ship their human cargo to the Chesapeake English. But in New Netherland itself, most of the slaves were New World-born, arriving with their owners from the WIC’s colonies in Brazil or the Caribbean. They had been already thoroughly acculturated, and at the corporate level, slaves were often given their own house lots, and given trusted posts, or were highly trained in specialty occupations like cuisine, ceremonial trumpeting, and were precision drummers for the militia or merchant marine.
At the small householder level, New Netherland and later New York slavery tended to take the form of a single personal, permanent, “family farmhand.” These hands were supposed, by community morals, to live and work out in the fields. Stuyvesant (who had plenty of slaves or his own, up to 70 persons) discouraged his middle-class farmers from taking house-servants for moral reasons; the nuclear family was a holy space. Dutchness on the whole discouraged slavery, and kept it modest by New World standards. But Calvinism ha a wide latitude for the institution of bondage; and since there were so many small family farms, that meant there were correspondingly, many more slaves than any place in the North. Of the Northern States before the Civil War, the place with the highest percentage of families owning slaves was Kings County, NY with 30%. It partly explains the otherwise inexplicable fact that the Democratic Party of southern slaveholders has always been run and led by New Yorkers (see, e.g. Martin van Buren).
a place as strange as…
Aucke thrived working under the disastrously hot-headed Peter Stuyvesant; he got land and kept his land by loyally saluting the colors of York when the English drumrolls started — saluting right beside the humiliated Stuyvesant. Aucke made himself useful under the hated English Catholic martinet, Gov. Edmond Andros, installed by the despised Catholic Duke of York, brother of King Charles II. Aucke played it the Company Way — whoever the Company fired, Aucke still was there.
Aucke had three wives, all Dutch. His and Magalene’s Nuis-born children, and his American-born children by his later marriages, all grew up and got married in Brooklyn as Dutch-speaking English subjects. From the original Downtown lot granted him by the Company in 1651, Aucke started early trading land, buying and selling farms all over the Dutch areas of Brooklyn, settling his children, serving a year as Schepen, building infrastructure, and investing in improvements including Brooklyn Ferry.
Two beavers rampant: Seal of the City of New Amsterdam
AMSTERDAM, OUD en NIEUW
In 1585 the Siege and Capture of Antwerp by the Spanish had cut the glittering head off Dutch Civilization at the line that became Belgium. All the wealthy and sophisticated Protestant Walloons and Sephardic Jews of Flanders, not eager to face the Inquisition, kept their heads and left. They took all the glitter and spice and “relationships, bubbeleh!” of Antwerp up to the Protestant province of North Holland. They moved en masse into a cheap, reedy mud-flat port on the south side of the frigid Zuider Zee, where peasants had dammed the Amstel at the Ij, to get some land for a wijk. Amsterdam swelled to accommodate the refugees. No it didn’t swell — it unfolded, built modern infrastructure, and developed. It evolved, grew wealthy and wise and beautiful. It was, and is, the sublime organic expression of a Dutch civilization.
The new Amsterdam Stadhuis, City Hall. The first Classical building in the Netherlands, by van Campen. Begun 1648, completed 1667.
This phenomenal growth explains why the WIC had to go all the way to Nuis to find a carpenter willing to go to America. All the really good guild carpenters were building the Stadhuis! Remember the quote at the top —- watch with wonder, the brief animated Growth of Amsterdam:
THE MAGIC OF 1609 In 1609, the City Council of Amsterdam had chartered the Bank of Amsterdam as a publicutility, to deal with the ridiculous international coinage problem. The Bank made sure that the coins that came to Amsterdam, were re-coined there in Amsterdam at a premium. It was immediately accepted as the strongest, most sensible, most stable standard in all Europe. The B of A was a wisselbank — an exchange bank — no loans, no credit, no hanky-panky! — and it worked as planned. Merchants flocked there to dump chewed-up shillings and florins for paper certificates. Ah, clever, clever. Currency, good everywhere on Earth, but mostly spent in and around downtown Amsterdam, where you could buy anything. The Bank gradually separated all the gold from the silver in Europe, and arbitraged the silver in Batavia by slipping it to the East India traders. DThe Chinese traders who met them in Batavia, would take nothing else, not even gold! China used silver coins as its own money system, so demanded silver over gold. This worked out fine for Amsterdam, where gold was higher than silver. In 1609 also, the States of Holland (same folks) sent Henry Hudson off on a slow boat to China, where he found the Hudson River. The Amsterdam traders who quickly chartered ships to follow him there, found Leni-Lenape dripping with beaver furs, who had no use at all for, scoffed at and spat at, both their gold AND their silver. Show me the wampum, said the Canarsee. Until they figured out what that meant, the Dutch embarrassed themselves that day at the Battery, offering Venetian glass beads. The Indians were simply too polite to say Feh!
Peter Minuit was not the first Dutchman to grasp how quicksilver “money” is — while it can be a storehouse of value, it is primarily, and most valuably, a simple medium of exchange. This was the secret of the Bank of Amsterdam — one only needs the tokens. The legendary 24 dollars worth of trinkets and beads he traded for Manhattan was not quite a swindle, as often depicted; nor does anybody today believe there was any binding real-estate deal taking place. What it was, was a barely successful guess at what the Indians seemed to want as a medium of exchange. and how they practiced making bargains for land deals and beaver pelts. Very quickly the Dutch realized that, though they had bought themselves a few months to build a town, the beads were a poor substitute for the big-medicine wampum belts which were so apparently prized by all the Indians all up and down the Eastern Seaboard. Just as quickly, the Nieuw Amsterdam merchants realized all this magicwampum was made locally, ONLY from the distinctive shells of particular quahogs and whelks off Long Island, right here! Thus, by St Nick! the Old Amsterdam traders sitting on the money supply of Europe, suddenly found themselves as New Amsterdam traders sitting on the money supply of North America! Double-Dutch! They immediately set up a sweatshop of overworked Canarsee girls digging clams, for a few clams a day, chopping and polishing the shells into beads, stringing them into belts and strips and straps. They then flooded the market with wampum in large denominations and small change. The Indians knew the Dutch didn’t quite understand what wampum belts meant to them — but in war and peace, the beads did their work. The beavers didn’t stand a chance.
Smug classical economists use Dutch wampum as a laugh-line, a counter-example when teaching that the most prudent fisc and the stablest currency is always the tightest. They say that the Dutch inflated the wampum economy, that they ballooned wampum until it was “practically worthless,” and that obviously Nieuw Amsterdam should have kept their wampum hard and tight with high interest rates. My stars, folks, we’re talking about quahog shells. Economists can easily find a way to make anything scarce, hard, unfair. [Good luck with their digital currency! Show me the wampum.]
From the other side, Native scholars have illuminated for us how the Dutch completely misunderstood the spiritual and social traditions surrounding wampum. Those belts, they show, the real ones, not the Dutch knock-offs, were Big Medicine: messages, symbols, carefully-worked remembrances of truces and alliances, wars, and great leaders. As a European Duke would treasure a medal from this monarch, so a local chief would proudly display the wampum of friendship from his sachem or the Dutch governor. But then the Dutch cheapened wampum by turning it into loose cash that eventually just ended up impoverishing and dispossessing the Indians — who certainly didn’t think they were agreeing to trade their land and living, but to share it. Note the recurring imagery of two rivers, or two men clasping hands in friendship:
Both criticisms reveal, from different sides, how difficult it is to make a money — any money — or a land deal — any land deal — that seems both humane, and fair. But wampum didn’t die because of “inflation” — it died because the Indians had pretty much trapped out all the beaver and sold out or their haunts in the Hudson Valley, out of New York, out of New Jersey, out of “Nieuw Netherland.” Wampum was “near worthless” because it had fulfilled its purpose as trade coin — there was nothing else to buy. The customer had been completely dispossessed, and Aucke’s grandkids already needed new land.
The story of the growing pains of New Amsterdam during that turbulent time just as Aucke and his family were getting off the boat, is most delightfully told in the brilliant Broadway musical satire Knickerbocker Holiday, by Maxwell Anderson and Kurt Weill. I’ve put up the recording, in four files, of the full 1944 radio broadcast with most of the original Broadway cast, including the inspired Walter Huston as the peg-leg tyrant of the Bowery. Click and be drawn…
I went to boring-old-Griffith Park partly because I haven’t been much lately, and I thought it would be full of People, and I imagined the thrill of going unmasked somewhere where life promenades gaily.
It was a relief, actually, to find it was rather sleepy. The glens were lush with hush and cloaked by cloud cover, making for high-resolution photographs, and reflective hiking.
A bit too reflective, old chum. The topographic scale-model is wonderful, but you can barely see it. And it is the ONLY exhibit about geology left in the entire park! The Visitors’ Center is tired and small and out of date; it offers the public little interpretation of LA’s most amazing resource.
Griffith Park epitomizes the potential for a SFV Nat’l Geo. Monument. The strapped City desperately needs federal assistance to install new exhibits; encourage respectful public access to sites of awe; put more rangers on-site to support public education and awareness of earthquakes, water, and chaparral ecology; and deepen America’s understanding and appreciation of the unique geology of our region.
I went hoping to see whether the the Santa Monica Mountains might be involved in the geologic drama currently gripping the other Valley ranges — rapid groundwater changes, newly active vent formations, etc. Once more I was staggered by what I found on the ground. But before we go play in the dirt: Marine–layer–gloom + Sage–in–bloom = Aromatherapy.
Toyon in all stages, new blooms to old berries.
Holly-leafed cherries going great guns!
Prunusilicifolia
Buckwheat! But note the water differential in the onion-layered zones of the bowl…
MIKROKOSMOS, IN THREE PILES OF MUD
Nobody would look twice at any of these, nor would I have, before a few months ago. Even if you did — Just eroded sand piles, one would think; LA’s usual trashed public trails. Rubble beside a fire road. Fill dirt, bulldozed by a parking lot maintenance crew who left their job undone. Awful; burned hillside ruined by drought. Come away from there Bobby, there’s broken glass and syringes and snakes.
Understanding even the surface features of these things enough to see them, is taxing. Nobody has ever written a single word about them in Los Angeles, ever, I think. Perceiving them as essential organs of the Earth, that belong here, and that reveal the inner workings of the LA watershed, blows my mind to Cloudcuckooland. Astronomy, physics, geology and geography; hydrology, chemistry, organic chemistry, biology; paleontology, social history, economic history, industrial history; ecology, ethics, social policy. These mud piles will really kick your hyper-specialized 21st century human brain into shape.
EXAMPLE1 — Of the three formations this is the subtlest. But it’s a whole ridge full of recent activity, which, together, illustrate the themes nicely.
These structures naturally form where there were volcanoes, those familiar molten rock-one-pipe-and-lava flow volcanoes that LA isn’t supposed to have had any of, but which racked the region during the Miocene, about 17 mya. Back then our fault block was migrating north, to collide with the mainland (at the Point of the Riviera, now San Gabriel Fault); subducting gouged-off sediments down into an accretion prism, including members of the famous MontereyShale. For ages, trillions of microorganisms had been down in the shales and sediments feasting on the oozy organic goo in the layers. As the layers were folded, tilted, compressed, and broken open, first underwater, and then underground, hydrocarbons and sulfur gas gained the opportunity to release vertically to the low-pressure surface. Lava infusions (andesite? Alaskite?) roared up through weak joints in the infinite layers of shale.
Even millions of years after the infusions, the lava tubes and cracks and joints have been — are still being — infiltrated by breccia-conglomerate pipes saturated with mineral brine, under pressure and heaven-bent. Steam escapes into the first fresh air or wet sand it can find — often a creek bed, or at the crease of a road or trail cut. When the de-pressurized brine goes “pfft,” the heavy metals get jilted, emplaced on the rocks around the vents. All this, I’d barely grasped so far.
An old cauldron. The sumac in the center of the pipe, and the water it draws up, the microbes and mosses and lichens that eat some of the hydrocarbons in the water, and concentrate others, all play parts in making this geology happen. Right along with the quartzy-schisty sand of the diagonal layers, and the re-metamorphosed lava that long ago surged through those layers and formed the little synclines around the rim, like a king’s crown. Note the sumac essentially has a vase — a series of layered, lined, nested pots or chambers to hold harvestable water between them — until it boils with acid and burns the sumac. This cauldron was recently active, but not this year —you can see last year’s undisturbed leaves at the base (toasted, presumably, when Example #2 vented recently…see below).
Now a new wrinkle: some of these vents, millions of years after the host volcano has retired, and after the whole mountain has practically been eroded away, still create geo-chemical ovens that cook up the rare and valuable minerals — iron, copper, gold, silver, lead, zinc and many more. These structures are called porphyries; and they are the source of most of the copper mined today, and copper prices are soaring, and everybody in the world is looking for them in remote third-world spots, even on Mars; they plan, wherever they find them, to bribe the local dictator, strip-mine the copper with slave labor, ship it back to Earth, and get rich. Those porphyries. In Griffith Park!
Example2 is stunning — an arch with points or rays like the diadem worn by the Statue of Liberty. (Damnyou! Youblewitup!) It has several cauldron areas and several vents. These have been recently active in mineralization, but still I could barely grasp how the alteration machinery works to change rock to sand, back into ore.
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It seems to be dismantling old structures on the hillside with acid washes — carefully sorting out the rocks, vein by vein, and altering them as it washes the piles downhill…
The iron-oxidized vein of brown chert, and the sandy quartz of the sediment layers, and the Alaskite (granite) lava intrusions, have all the ingredients to make chalcophyrite, the primary copper ore. Presumably, although the porphyry is eroded away, these mingled piles or residue will still eventually sink together below the road, and get covered with other sands, until the next big rain or liquefaction earthquake. Then they might be re-washed, re-leached, re-doxed, and fuse together as a richer copper ore. The more times this happens, the more copper-rich the ore is made, secreted just below the water table (here, under the trail surface).
Turned to copper sulfate?
Porphyries were so-called by the Romans, for they found copper ore conveniently near their beds of lovely red and purple “porphyry” column marble. The name has stuck, though there is no porphyry marble in the Valley. (The chemistry doesn’t require red marble, just any limestone contact). Lime brings the carbon to a floating groundwater party that already has plenty of iron and sulfur. Heat and pressure can do the alchemy far below ground, but if certain salts and solutions are present, then all you need on the surface to get the reducing action going is for the groundwater table to rise. It could be ordinary rain, sinking through the cracks — ‘meteoric’ water circulation, leaching out metal salts. Or/and, it could be a tectonic compressive shift, like an earthquake on a thrust fault, that forces water and brine to mingle and rise, cracking rocks en route, cooking the salts, separating the dross, and adding or removing oxygen, iron, sulfur, carbon, hydrogen, etc to make metals. (The more modern term investors use is an Iron Oxide-Copper-Gold Deposit, or IOCG. But specifically copper is still called porphyry copper.)
Example3 is from a parking lot so forlorn, so uninteresting, so damaged-looking, that even in Griffith Park, with THOUSANDS of acres and THOUSANDS of visitors and only THREE parking areas, and though it’s right on Zoo Drive, is always wide-open. This time, Patient Reader, you’re on your own as far as interpretation, as I am, since I’m the only resource for researching these things. A few notes: 1) the fancy colors are likely the copper minerals bornite, chrysocolla, azurite, and cuprite. 2) This hillside is likely to repeat porphyry pots all the way to the top. 3) The Hollister Fault is just over that ridge; 4) the Montgolfier balloon shapes are tipped to the left, or east; 5) and those oaks in those old cauldrons, were likely vertical when their acorns sprouted. Maybe you can tell me what’s going on!
So: while these vents are not magmatic eruptions, they are phreatic engines which happen in, around, and because of, an old volcano. Porphyries seem to be a manifestation of late-stage volcanism. They are common around the Pacific Rim where oceanic crust has been subducted, especially in convergent continental plate collision zones like the SFV. But seriously, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. We’re going into the Hollywood Hills next, where the rich are getting richer every time it rains — though they don’t know it, and the fumes may kill them. Comedy is easy — geology is hard.
This little puff of rare earth minerals just starting tickling the rim of my hat —
Next time, we’ll talk about what I learned after months of researching: that nobody should ever handle chalcopyrite; and we’ll discuss why if you’re looking at a rock formation, and coughing and choking uncontrollably, it isn’t the dust and you should leave the area; and why shuffling through sand piles to get close to pretty rocks, can leave chalcopyrite exhalations on your shoes!
Christmas cactus at Eastertide? Don’t be fooled, this gorgeous succulent blooms this week every year.
UPDATE: I found I snapped a shot with a hummingbird among the penstemon! Do look.
Drive-thru Vax II — the world’s New Folly!
At Dodgers Stadium…
Site of LA’s first cemetery! Much folly up there in all those ravines — not just the notorious Chavez.
Lunch after! Damon tries to show Janet how to read the “menu” — which is an app that keys to that little card on the table. Folly! Sheerest folly.
Penstemon
black sage
Caught a hummingbird!
Utter folly: she must keep hovering to sip, she must keep sipping to hover. At day’s end, what has she gained? Only tomorrow; another spring day to waste flitting the flowery fields. Girlfriend should work smarter, not harder. (Shewon’t, sigh.)What kind of fool am I? Ito, the flaneur of the motor court.
Clinging to his favorite sunny, fragrant nook by the thyme. Fool!