One of my happiest holiday childhood memories revolves around chestnuts. As a little boy, growing up in London in the late 1960s, I would look forward, with great anticipation, to the arrival of roast chestnuts. These decidedly December-flavored treats never seemed to be available during the rest of the year and I, therefore, have always associated the tasty nut with Christmas.

My favorite childhood haunt was the British Museum, sitting in all its Greco-Roman splendor on Great Russell Street. Londoners call it “The B.M.,” and its paved forecourt always seemed dizzyingly awash with visiting students and scholars, meeting, laughing, hugging, comparing notes, and poring over guides and floor plans to the museum’s astonishing collection of artistic and archaeological treasures. Around the middle of December, each year, the throngs of budding intellectuals were quietly joined by a solitary, hardworking and — in my mind at least — somewhat melancholy old man hunched, slightly, over an incandescent steel barrel. He was the Chestnut Man. I took him to be a World War II veteran dressed, as he was, in a faded military jacket, with a grey, flat cap, and palm-sized woolen gloves that exposed his fingertips. I found the Chestnut Man fascinating and — aged perhaps six, and clutching my mother’s hand — I would trade him two shillings for a small, white paper bag filled with chestnuts, hot to the touch and freshly plucked from his roasting barrel.

Not to be confused with the horse chestnut — an unpalatable nut common in the United Kingdom and used by school boys in the strange game called “conkers” — the edible or “sweet” chestnut is actually produced by a beech tree of the family Fagaceae. When properly roasted, and once the hard, reddish brown shell has been removed, the sweet chestnut is a heavenly snack: pale yellow in color, with a meaty consistency and a taste similar to macadamia nuts.

And so, each December when Ballet Tucson’s award-winning production of the ever-popular Nutcracker opens with an alluring and solitary dancer, The Chestnut Lady, elegantly serving her wares, it cannot fail to strike a chord of memory and delight in my heart.

Nutcracker was first performed in St. Petersbug, Russia in 1892, based on a story by the German author E.T.A. Hoffman, and choreographed by Lev Ivanov and Franco-Russian ballet dancer Marius Petipa. It was first performed outside Russia in 1919 (Budapest), and in the Twentieth Century went on to enjoy tremendous worldwide popularity, especially in the United States.

Kendra Clyde as Clara in Ballet Tucson’s “Nutcracker.” Photo by Ed Flores

The decidedly cosmopolitan origins of Nutcracker are well reflected by the international flavor of Ballet Tucson’s company: long-time principal male dancer Daniel Precup is of Romanian origin; Kyle Peterson was born in the United Kingdom; Akari Manabe joins the company from Kobe, Japan; while Canadian dancer Kate Kaupas’ home town is Calgary. And Kate’s success story with Ballet Tucson is particularly noteworthy. She joined the company three years ago as an apprentice; in her second year she won the Kim Terry Memorial Scholarship for excellence in dance; and is, this year, a featured soloist as the Dew Drop Fairy. Perhaps one out of every class of young dance students will be fortunate enough to land a job as a professional company dancer, and perhaps one in twenty of those will experience the thrill of performing onstage as a featured soloist, so the Friday premiere of Nutcracker will be a big night for Ms. Kaupas.

“Performing with Ballet Tucson is one of the most inspiring experiences of my professional dance career,” Kaupas said. “I feel very privileged to be cast in such an important role and I look forward to bringing Dew Drop Fairy to life this weekend at Centennial Hall.”

Kate Kaupas performs as the Dew Drop Fairy this weekend in Ballet Tucson’s “Nutcracker.” Photo by Geoff Notkin

And it’s not just the dreams of professional dancers that will manifest themselves this weekend. Ballet Tucson is committed to sharing the uplifting experience of Nutcracker throughout our community. “We give 1,000 free Nutcracker tickets to underserved children and their families, and to social service agencies in our community,” said Operations Manager Cynthia Hansen. “The Board of Directors goes out and raises money to support this program. We travel to Tucson’s most needy schools to teach dance with our ‘Put Your Best Foot Forward with Ballet Tucson’ educational outreach. In addition Assistant Artisitic Director Chieko Imada and her team of Ballet Tucson dancers teach five classes per week to elementary students in some of Tucson’s most impoverished areas.”

As I have said in this column before, it is one thing to talk about supporting the arts and another to actually do it. Ballet Tucson brings excellent classical and contemporary ballet to Tucson, while reaching out to underprivileged communities to foster an appreciation of the arts at a grassroots level. That is more than supporting the arts; it is building an artistic community from the ground up. And, perhaps most important of all, Founder and Artistic Director Mary Beth Cabana’s Ballet Arts School is training the next generation of professional dancers. Her students have gone on to win scholarships and/or perform professionally with New York City Ballet, American Ballet Theater, San Francisco Ballet, Pacific Northwest Ballet (PNB), The Kirov Academy and many other world-class companies. That is quite a remarkable accomplishment for a school in our small city. You have to start somewhere, and many of Ms. Cabana’s youngest students will be appearing in this weekend’s Nutcracker, some of them in their first-ever public performance.

Operations Manager, Cynthia Hansen, says it perfectly: “We believe the arts have the power to transform lives and we do our part by introducing children to the discipline and wonderful world of dance.”

Jenna Johnson as Sugar Plum Fairy and Stuart Lauer as Her Cavalier. Photo by Ed Flores

So, if the Chestnut Lady, the feisty Mouse King, the Fairies, the Snow Queen, and the Snowflakes are still not quite enough excitement for you, bear in mind that this production of Nutcracker may just introduce some of the great dancers of tomorrow. One of the mice children making his or her debut this weekend could be soloing at American Ballet Theater ten years from now. That is the stuff of Christmas dreams.

A few days ago, and to my considerable amazement, I discovered a small stash of fresh, sweet chestnuts at the supermarket.”What are these?” the lady at checkout asked, wrinking her nose and holding them up close, then peering, quizzically, at their dark and streamlined shapes. Unroasted, and still cased in tough, sanguine shells, the pretty chestnuts looked nearly identical to the ones a little boy used to wolf down during cold winter evenings on Great Russell Street.

I’ll be roasting them tomorrow afternoon, so if you see happen to see a TucsonCitizen.com blogger and dance enthusiast outside Centennial Hall this weekend, with a smile on a face and a little white bag of chestnuts in his hands, that’ll be me.

Ballet Tucson performs Nutcracker this weekend at Centennial Hall. Show times are Friday, December 21 at 7:30 pm; Saturday, December 22 at 2:00 pm and 7:30 pm; Sunday, December 23 at 1:00 pm and 5:00 pm. Ticket prices range from $17 to $56 and are available through the Centennial Hall Ticket Office.

Text © by Geoffrey Notkin. Photographs © Ed Flores and Geoffrey Notkin, as noted above.
All rights reserved. No reproduction without written permission.

The inaugural Arizona Science and Astronomy Expo (ASAE) will kick off at the Tucson Convention Center tomorrow, Saturday, November 10 and is certain to enthrall science buffs of all ages. Event Director, Alan Traino, is a solar telescope pioneer, a highly respected member of the astronomy community, and a proponent of science education for young Americans. For the past three years, along with my Meteorite Men co-host Steve Arnold, I have been a speaker at Alan’s Northeast Astronomy Forum (NEAF) in New York. NEAF is the largest astronomy event in the world and I know from personal experience that Alan is one of the foremost promoters and organizers of science-related events in the country.

“2012 is our first year here,” said Alan Traino, “but we are going to build on it, and Tucson will be the center of the astronomy universe within five years.”

For this weekend’s Tucson expo, Alan and his associates have put together a stellar lineup of speakers, including NASA astronauts Story Musgrave and Donald Petit; Canadian scientist Dr. Carin Bondar, “The Biologist with a Twist, a brilliant science writer, blogger and television personality; Dr. Phil Plait, AKA “The Bad Astronomer,” who delights thousands of fans around the world with his illuminating writing and lectures; astronomy writer and podcaster Dr. Pamela L. Gay, solar telescope expert Stephen Ramsden; Adam Block from the Mount Lemmon Sky Center, and Dr. Steele Hill of NASA’s Goddard SOHO mission.

Celebrated scientist and blogger, Dr. Phil Plait is a featured speaker at this weekend’s Tucson science expo. Photograph © Phil Plait.

I was honored by the invitation to put together a meteorite panel entitled, “Out of the Sky: How Meteorites have Changed the World.” The panel begins at 10 am on Sunday, November 11, and will be moderated by asteroid expert and former Meteorite magazine editor, Dr. Larry Lebofsky. The panelists are Dr. Melissa Morris from ASU’s Center for Meteorite Studies; world famous meteorite hunter Sonny Clary; Director of Operations for Aerolite Meteorites, LLC and Meteorite Men location photographer, Suzanne Morrison; and myself. NASA Edge TV will be filming the panel for live broadcast, and interested parties are invited to watch it live on the web.

Dr. Carin Bondar, “The Biologist with a Twist,” will delight audiences at the expo this weekend. Photograph © Carin Bondar/Kim Mallory Photography.

In addition to the scheduled speaking events the Arizona Science and Astronomy Expo will be offering remote telescope viewing with the Mount Lemmon Sky Center, imaging workshops, ongoing digital planetarium shows, daytime solar observing and night time viewing through an impressive array of telescopes. The expo “will be featuring exhibitors and manufacturers of astronomical products from around the world, including telescopes, binoculars, mounts, cameras, domes, and all related accessories. You can also shop for all your extras including meteorites, flashlights, gifts, and much more.”

The Mule, the special expedition vehicle seen in action on Meteorite Men, Globe Trekker, and How the Earth was Made will be on display for the entire weekend.

In addition, NASA has generously loaned an extraordinary collection of historic memorabilia and artifacts to the expo, including flown space suits and their display collection of meteorites.

ASAE will feature a spectacular display of space rocks, provided by NASA and Aerolite Meteorites of Tucson. Photograph by Suzanne Morrison © Aerolite Meteorites, LLC.

“We are trying to engage our young people and show them that it’s cool to be a science geek,” said John Joseph, President of Starlight Instruments and an exhibitor at the event. “We may not have a space program anymore, but some of the kids attending ASAE this weekend are going to grow up and start their own.”

Admission is only $10 each day and includes access to all exhibits and talks. Kids under 12 receive free admission with an adult, and veterans are invited to accept complimentary admission on Sunday.

Visit the official website for more information >>>

The late O. Richard Norton was a gifted and dedicated science writer. He wrote with a concise clarity that brought the most complex of concepts warmly to life. He was also an admired personal friend. His seminal work Rocks from Space, published in 1994, was the first popular book to bring the study of meteorites to a large audience. It remains an important, engaging, and informative work to this day, as do his later books, The Cambridge Encyclopedia of Meteorites and The Field Guide to Meteors and Meteorites (with Lawrence Chitwood). Richard’s wife, Dorothy Sigler Norton, also a personal friend, worked closely with Richard on all of these titles and — an accomplished scientific illustrator — she provided much of the artwork for the books.

I, myself, provided numerous images for Dorothy and Richard’s new book, What’s So Mysterious About Meteorites?, as did my staff photographer, Suzanne Morrison. We offered these photographs gladly because everyone wanted to see Richard’s last work come into the world, under Dorothy’s guidance. As such, some might think me a little biased towards this new publication, but I am not. With a wealth of fascinating new books seeing print each and every year, I choose not to waste time discussing works I did not enjoy. So, this review is mixed with delight at holding Richard’s posthumous final work in my hand, and sadness at the realization that there will be no more.

In Dorothy’s introduction she writes:

“O. Richard Norton passed away before he completed work on What’s So Mysterious About Meteorites?, a book that meant a lot to him. He had always wanted to provide a basic introduction to his beloved meteorites that could be read by young adults and anyone else interested in the subject of rocks that fall from the sky. While finishing it, I could hear his voice in my mind, explaining some detail about meteorites to students or to the many people who showed up at our door with boxes of rocks. He was a wonderful teacher, a great husband, and a generous friend to all who studied and searched for these curious rocks.”

Amen to that.

What’s So Mysterious About Meteorites? (Mountain Press, 2012) runs exactly 100 pages, is 8 3/8 x 9 inches and, with its lively, colorful cover, is clearly aimed at younger readers. And that’s good news because I already have two overly large shelves filled with highly technical tomes on my favorite subject; works that will not appeal to any but the most eccentric school kids (I’d be a little concerned if anyone under the age of fourteen was, for example, tackling Buchwald’s Handbook of Iron Meteorites). What’s So Mysterious About Meteorites? is packed with pictures of meteorites in the lab, in studio settings, under the microscope, in the field, as well as images of me and my more-than-a-little-offbeat comrades doing what we love best — scouring the wilderness for space rocks. The most amusing of these images is a picture, on page 46, of my friend Tim Heitz gazing rapturously into the sky, while sitting atop a 37-ton South American iron meteorite known as El Chaco.

Many times, over the years, I have been told: “Geoff you really should write a children’s book about meteorites!” I chose not to pursue such a thing because I knew Dorothy had already embarked upon a similar project, and because I was already busy with existing book projects, but mostly because I knew that with Dorothy’s caring spirit, extensive knowledge of the subject, and attention to artistic detail, she would do a much better job than I could.

An image on page vi, opposite the “Table of Contents,” admirably sets the tone for the book. The full-page color photograph depicts Manuel, a young Argentinian boy, pointing at a just-found specimen of the Berduc meteorite (fell April 7, 2008) lying in the dirt. I well know that look on Manuel’s face. It is awe and wonder, mixed with amazement and triumph; the expression of a successful meteorite hunter who has, against all odds, discovered that most elusive of quarries.

In a clear and friendly tone that will be easily assimilated by younger readers, Dorothy begins the book with a brief explanation of what meteorites are, how they differ from meteors, comets, and asteroids, and later adds pleasant doses of astronomy and space exploration to the mix. She jumps straight into the action with an account of the Park Forest fall (March 26, 2003), the only meteorite shower in recorded history to have landed within the confines a major city, that being Chicago. 14 year-old Robert Garza narrowly escaped injury when a loaf of bread-sized space rock crashed through the roof of his family’s suburban home. Thousands of other smaller meteorites landed nearby. Robert’s father called the police, believing some mischief-maker had thrown a rock through the roof of his house:

“But who could throw a rock with that much force? The police took the rock away and put it in an evidence bag. Under ‘offense’ they wrote, ‘N/A (Act of God).’ The rock in the bag at the police station was soon joined by more mysterious rocks. One had hit the roof of the local firehouse. It quickly became clear that these trespassing stones were meteorites. As word got out, people started looking for them. And they found them all over the place.”

I was one of those people. I found seventeen Park Forest meteorites, and gave one each to my meteorite-hunting colleagues, Professor Jim Kriegh and Twink Monrad, both of them also close friends of the Nortons.

Later chapters discuss, in considerable detail, where meteorites come from, what they are made of, and explain meteorite-specific scientific terms such as ablation, strewnfield and rollover lip. The “Fireball Observer’s Checklist” is a handy reference for those fortunate enough to witness a very large meteor in flight. Other sections include “Mars Has Meteorites Too,” a comparison of different meteorite types, and a look at impact craters. The chapter “How Can You Find Meteorites?” provides tips for the would-be searcher, and there is guidance on how to start a collection. What’s So Mysterious About Meteorites? is rounded out by a list of helpful print and online resources, and a glossary of terms.

One of the many interesting space rocks featured in the book. This meteorite is Canyon Diablo from Arizona. Photo by Suzanne Morrison © Aerolite Meteorites LLC

During the past three years I have hosted an international television adventure series called Meteorite Men. The show has sparked a great deal of interest in space rocks, especially — to my considerable glee — among younger viewers. Parents often telephone, or email, and tell us how thankful they are that our series has inspired their kids to walk away from the box and go dig for rocks, instead, in the fresh-air world. Well, except for one slightly frustrated parent who complained: “My garden now looks like the surface of the moon, thanks to you guys!”

For those who want to learn more, we often recommend my first book, Meteorite Hunting: How to Find Treasure from Space, which is a technical, hands-on field guide for those smitten with the desire to go out and recover their own cosmic visitor. My books are written for an adult audience, although they have been enjoyed by some precocious young readers, one of whom reportedly carries a heavily dog-eared copy around with him, daily, at school. His mother told me that he sometimes gets teased by other students and called a “nerd.” I asked her to pass along to him that he should not worry about any of that, because he is a whole lot smarter than the other kids, and they will all be bitterly envious, anyway, when he finds his first thousand-dollar meteorite.

Musings aside, my point is there has been a vacuum in the meteorite world until now. What’s So Mysterious About Meteorites? is not a technical book, but it covers the technical aspects of the complex science of meteoritics in a kid-friendly manner. It tells the amazing story of meteorites in an easy-to-read and easy-to-understand manner that will engage children and young adults who yearn for something more cosmically puzzling and stimulating than reality television or Xbox.

So, parents of kids who dream of being astronomers, or astronauts, or meteorite hunters when they grow up, here is your chance. What’s So Mysterious About Meteorites? will make a wonderful gift for your science-curious progeny and, who knows, perhaps it will ignite a spark that will send them — a couple of decades from now — rocketing across the globe (or into space) on the adventure of a lifetime. What could possibly make for a better present than that?

All photographs and text © Geoffrey Notkin and/or Aerolite Meteorites LLC.
Book cover © by Mountain Press.
All rights reserved. No reproduction without written permission.