Those International Symbols: Would We Survive Without them?

Those International Symbols: Would We Survive Without Them?

humor commentary

by Greg Larson

          International symbols have been in use for decades and are continually promoted by the ISO (International Organization for Standardization) headquartered in Geneva, Switzerland. It is only fitting that I saw several interesting symbols while traveling in Switzerland.

          During my travels to different countries, I’ve selected my favorite “top ten” international symbols to share with you. In a multi-cultural, multi-lingual world, these symbols are used to warn and protect the public as we travel and spend time at recreation activities. I’ll let you be the judge.

1.     Welsh cliff tripper 

Whoops! The message is obvious: Bad things can happen if you get too close to the edge of a cliff. The ground might give way. Someone (spouse, jealous lover, or emotionally unstable person) might push you over the edge. If you are careless and go into a free-fall, you’ll have time to think about it on the way down.

2.     Running uscita man 

Uscita is the Italian word for “exit.” Sounds like an Italian obscenity. That’s why the international symbol is a good communication tool. It shows you how to get out of the building quickly – through an opening or down the stair. Just don’t rush out a second floor window. Definitely be careful running on marble stairs in Italy. They can be slick, and hard to negotiate, especially if you have had too much wine to drink or wear high heels.

3.     Woman walking with child 

This pleasant depiction seems like a good symbol. Mothers wearing balloon skirts are recommended to hold their child’s hand. It’s good to spend quality time with the kids. If there is traffic nearby, the daughter will remain safely with mom, as long as she does not yank her hand away and run into the street.

4.     Man wearing fedora while walking with girl 

I’m getting mixed messages with this sign. Like the previous sign, it is good for fathers to hold their daughter’s hand while walking near traffic.  But, this sign might be warning us that strangers or pedophiles wearing fedoras and suits have been known to abduct little girls in the area. Keep an eye out for suspicious characters, especially if they are wearing those hats you see in the old movies.

5.     Slippery rocks 

Switzerland spends a lot of money warning citizens and tourists that swollen mountain rivers are dangerous. Doing the Harlem Shake or Gangnam-style dancing on slippery granite rocks can be hazardous activity. In a country with few advertisement signs, Switzerland has strategically located these symbols on billboards throughout the countryside. Enjoy dancing in the outdoors, but play and spend time near the rivers at your own risk.

6.     Diving into shallow water

Another symbol warns us to not dive into the river head-first. Those granite rocks that you see on the river banks are also underneath the water. Of course, if you dive and hit your head on the rocks, you might shout an expletive, but you would not be heard on the surface of the noisy river.

7.     Rushing water or knife blades? 

If you somehow find yourself in the river with your head above the surface, you could be whisked away by tons of water in the fast-moving current. This symbol could also be used where there are dangerous farm implements or industrial knife blades.

8.     Whirlpools 

I had a “psycho” flashback when I first saw this symbol. I guess whirlpools can also have a hypnotic effect. I think a more effective campaign to warn the public about river dangers would be to create a claymation video and post it on YouTube. A “Mr. Bill-like” character would slip on the rocks, fall head-first into the river, then be swept away by the current and into a whirlpool. “Oh no.! Mr. Bill! Ohhh Nooo!” The video would go viral.

9.     Needle and syringe 

Have you found it difficult to dispose of your heroin needles? For those of you in the Switzerland Heroin Assistance Program, this symbol provides important information. These signs are strategically located in restrooms in public parks. Next to the symbol is a disposal hole, which allows drug users to safely rid themselves of the needles which are provided by the government at various clinics throughout the country. It is important to keep Switzerland tidy.

10.     Marijuana with slash 

There are several decal symbols mounted on the glass doors to a library in Kansas. It is important to know how to behave when visiting the public building. But the sign raises significant questions in my mind. Isn’t marijuana illegal in the entire state of Kansas? Is this sign telling us it is okay to use illegal drugs outside the building? Using this logic, shouldn’t there be a decal showing each activity not allowed in the library? I don’t think there would be enough space on all of the library windows. How would you create symbols, let’s say, for “no singing”, “noisy burping not allowed” or “no public sex”?

*  *  *  *  *

          The international symbols validate the age-old saying “a picture is worth a thousand words.” But they can create as many questions as they provide answers. When should the slash be used? Is the color red more important than blue, green or yellow? When should words in the local language be added?

          Bottom line: Be careful out there. It is a dangerous world.

A Mountaintop Experience



On the mountaintop above Locarno, Switzerland



A Mountaintop Experience

travel memoir

by Greg Larson

          It’s always good to get out of the daily humdrum routines, to venture out into the world and gain a different perspective. Our recent travels to Switzerland allowed us to see a mixture of Italian and German cultures and understand the changes that occurred in their civilization through the centuries.

          At first, I noticed simple things that were different from our American culture. As our train rolled through the Swiss valleys on a sunny morning, I noticed women opening the upper floor windows of their houses to wipe the sills clean before hanging out the down-filled bedcovers for daily “freshening.”

          Through trial and error we discovered that directional signage for hikers and motorists was much smaller than what we see in the U.S. and at times they were non-existent. More than once we took a wrong turn while hiking because we missed a street sign or hiker’s arrow on the small plaques mounted on stone walls underneath overhanging branches.

          Everything in Switzerland seemed to be on a small scale; from trucks, trains, and street widths to elevators, chairs and bathrooms. At the historical Hotel des Alpes in Lucerne, the rooms were equipped with recently renovated bathrooms. The bathroom tile, sink, and mirror sparkled, but the space was small. While showering in the stall with the sleek glass door, I reached to scrub my back, only to smack the hot water lever, which increased the water temperature and caused me to squeal in pain.  After doing this twice, I decided to rethink my body movements.

          The biggest revelation came on a sunny day in Locarno, when my wife, Gretta, and I decided to travel up the side of the Alps at the edge of Lake Maggiore and the city of Locarno. After spending the morning at an outdoor café, where we indulged ourselves with the best cappucino and brioche along the lakeside, we picked our destination: Cimetta (a small mountaintop), about 4,000 ft. above the lake. The first mode of transportation was the funicolare, an incline cable car, which transported us up to the church of San Francesco, where the bells chimed over the city of Locarno. At that point, we transferred to a large modern gondola which raised us to a spot high on the mountainside. After snapping photos and walking on trails in the nearby woods, we savored a lunch of pasta and beer at an outdoor restaurant with a stunning view of the lake and the surrounding Alps. I had no premonition of the mountaintop experience awaiting me.
 

Our trip up the mountain began on the funicolare

 

 

The gondola lift put us much higher on the mountain

 

          For the final mode of transportation on our climb to Cimetta, we boarded a simple chair lift. While riding through the larch and birch trees, I turned to Gretta and asked a rhetorical question, “So when you go to heaven, do they just keep putting you on a different lift?”
 

At the top, snow-capped peaks were visible in every direction

 

          The view at the top was heavenly, with snow-capped peaks visible in every direction. The boats far below on the lake seemed to be in a different world. The sun warmed our bones as we walked the granite path to the uppermost knoll on the mountain.

          At the top, I realized my eyes saw more than I viewed. When I looked towards the city and the lake below, I saw the tourist side of the mountain: the trains, boats, gondolas, parasails and mountain bikes. I saw an advanced civilization of industry and technology, which I’m glad exists. The planes, trains and credit cards are what got me here.
 

Parasail above Lake Maggiore

 

          But when I turned my back on the lake and viewed the wilderness of the Alps, it all changed. In the dead silence and still air of the mountaintop, I faintly heard many bells, some tiny, some big. Peering over the railing, I noticed the upper hay meadows a couple of miles in the distance. I couldn’t see any goats or cows, but I knew they were there. The bells continued to tinkle in the clear mountain air. I saw an agrarian existence in the lesser-traveled valleys, a simpler way of life. I visualized the simpler way of life being overtaken by a rising tide of a growing population and advancing civilization.
 

Tinkling goat bells were heard in the distance

 

          What, at first, seemed profound while I stood on the mountaintop was just a moment of clarity which revealed the obvious: things change as our civilization and population advances. It has happened through the centuries all over the globe in different settings and cultures. The typical pattern started with nomads and tribes being pushed out or changed by people who were more advanced. Aboriginal tribes on different continents existed into the 20^th Century before being discovered, but eventually patterns and customs were diluted by modern society conveniences.

           Agrarian societies were transformed by the industrial revolution, and now technology and computers have changed the world with a post-industrial revolution.
 

Rustici - remnants of an agrarian society



          Will the bells on the goats and cows be replaced someday with GPS transmitters? I don’t know. I like the bells. The low-tech solution still seems to work. Will the mountain valley grazing land become little villages of vacation homes? Yes, the remote valleys in Switzerland are being invaded to a degree. In the Ticino Region we witnessed some of that transition during our visits to the sparsely populated valleys. At different locations along the hiking paths, the rustici huts originally used as barns for the animals were being transformed into weekend retreats or vacation cabins. Some of them were quite fancy, with new doors and windows, wood-burning fireplaces and solar panels.
 

Modernized rustici cabins

 

          As hikers, we were voyeurs, invading the simple life in the remote valleys in an attempt to witness something pristine before it becomes too over-run with tourists and visitors, and . . . hikers.

          After our day on the mountaintop above Locarno, Gretta was sitting in the apartment, tapping away at her computer tablet screen.

          “What are you doing?” I asked.

          “I’m checking the train schedules for our trip to Lugano tomorrow. These online schedules have all the current times and track locations. This is so much better than when I traveled through Europe in the ’70s!”

          Good thing, I thought. I hope our civilization chooses the good things that come along, without discarding the good old things that work. I remembered earlier in the day when I heard the bells from the mountaintop. Maybe I will get to hear them again sometime. If not, I want to remember that sound forever.

The Balcony View of Locarno

The Balcony

 

The Balcony View of Locarno

travel memoir

by Greg Larson

           Although my wife, Gretta, and I enjoy active vacations of hiking, biking, and daily excursions, my favorite memory from our trip to Locarno, Switzerland, is our apartment balcony view of Lake Maggiore. The combination of the old rooftops in Locarno, the placid surface of the lake, and the Swiss Alps rising over 6,000 feet above the shoreline make it difficult for my brain to digest everything that lay before me.

          “How can one possibly describe this view in thirty seconds or less?” I asked Gretta one evening.                           

          “You can’t,” she responded. “You’ll have to write about it.”

          To describe the view, one must understand the setting. Locarno is in southern Switzerland, in the Ticino region, where the official language is Italian. It is where the culture and climate of Italy to the south overlap with the culture and climate of Switzerland. The mixture of architecture, mountains and valleys, vegetation, and the Swiss and Italian people are what make the Ticino region unique. It is a place where giant glaciers of long ago carved out massive valleys in the granite mountains . . . valleys which are now filled with long, deep lakes surrounded by vegetation that varies from palm trees to firs.



View of Lake Maggiore from the balcony.



          The early evening is the best time to sit on the third-floor balcony and become immersed in the view. The tiled roofs and Spanish-style chimneys frame the lake and mountains beyond, while the courtyard below is filled with fan palms, hydrangeas, potted plants, and flowering bushes. Iron fences and stone walls line the cobbled alleyways that lead to the lakefront avenue below. Grapevines hug the canopied restaurant in the courtyard, where the smell of garlic and simmering sauces drift up to the balcony. Suppers in nearby apartments are being prepared and the voices of the Italian-speaking occupants echo from the stucco walls.

          I feel like Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window as I’m drawn into the activities unfolding below as the daytime fun changes to an evening of food and music. Couples walk hand-in-hand along the promenade at the lakefront park which is lined with towering magnolia trees, pines, palms, and colorful flower beds. The shouts of children laughing and playing in a shoreline park mingle with the sounds of a nearby piano bar.

          Church bells chime on the hour, and an occasional police car or ambulance siren interrupts the peaceful scene. Clouds float in the pearl-blue sky where swallows dart and sea gulls float above the harbor. A mama swallow flies into a gap in a nearby roof eave to feed her chirping young.

          The surface of the deep-blue water of Lake Maggiore has barely a ripple. Traces of the wakes lazily remain from the large passenger boats which transport people from town to town along the shore. Ducks mingle with the anchored boats, while large, pleasure craft ply the lake and sailboats lean to squeeze out any available wind from the open-water breezes.

          Across the lake, the puffy clouds graze the mountaintops where bits of snow remain in the granite cracks and crevices which tower above the verdant slopes. A passenger train hugs the shoreline, weaving through villages nestled on the mountainside, where villas, apartment buildings and churches are sprinkled on the slopes like an abstract painting.

          The view has cast a spell on me, and it is difficult to pull away from the balcony, but eventually my craving for the pasta from the restaurants which line the avenue below takes hold.

          After some wine, dinner, and an evening walk along the promenade, Gretta and I return to the apartment after sundown. Like a magnet, the balcony tugs at me to come and view the twinkling lights and reflections from across the lake. Where else would I want to go?



Locarno, Switzerland



Jewel Box on the Plains

 

Schwaller House (designed by Edward Buehler Delk) - Hays, Kansas

Jewel Box on the Plains

essay and photos

by Gregory E. Larson, AIA

          I was worried we would be late to our appointment in Hays, Kansas. The car’s speedometer needle was stuck on eighty while we rocketed along I-70. Travel in Western Kansas would have been much different in the 1920s, with many unpaved roads where Model T Fords and Pierce Arrows crawled across the prairie, succumbing to rough conditions and extreme temperatures. Edward Buehler Delk, an architect from Kansas City, must have dealt with the perils when driving to Hays, Kansas, to meet with his client, Henry Schwaller, to design a house for the successful businessman and lumberman on the high plains.

          Fortunately, in January of 2013, I was able to travel more quickly and comfortably on my way to meet Dr. Michael Meade (Associate Professor – Fort Hays State University), the current resident of the Schwaller house designed by Edward Buehler Delk. Dr. Meade, the grandson of Henry Schwaller, had invited my wife and me to see the house, attend a luncheon with invited guests, and give a lecture on Delk’s architectural accomplishments during his Kansas City practice (1920-1956).

          Delk, a talented architect from Philadelphia, had moved to Kansas City in 1920 to develop a master plan for the J.C. Nichols mixed-use development, The Country Club Plaza. He established a private practice in Kansas City which allowed him to pursue all of his architectural interests. His projects varied from private residences to participating in the national architectural competition to design the Liberty Memorial, Kansas City’s monument to the sacrifices made in the World War I. Delk was developing the master plan for the Country Club Plaza and designing the first two Plaza buildings when Henry Schwaller contacted him.



Country Club Plaza - shopping district - Kansas City, Missouri

          The wheat crop yields were abundant in the early 1920s in Western Kansas, and Schwaller had promised his wife that when the market price per bushel of Hard Red Winter Wheat surpassed $2.00, their reward would be a new house designed and built specifically for them.  Once the wheat price exceeded the $2.00 level, Henry’s next concern was how to go about finding an architect well-versed in designing high-quality residences.

Grand Staircase - Schwaller House

          According to Dr. Meade, Henry Schwaller told the foreman at the lumberyard to go to Kansas City and make the next purchase of wholesale lumber for their business in Hays. He also asked him to query his peers at the lumber yards and find out where the large houses were being built, and who was designing them. The foreman returned and told Schwaller that Edward Buehler Delk’s name had come up numerous times. Delk was developing a reputation for designing houses of the highest quality of design and construction in the Kansas City area, specifically in the new Country Club District, south of Brush Creek. 


Dining Room - Schwaller House

          Schwaller contacted Delk and requested that he design a new residence for his family. He told him that he wanted a tasteful, yet understated residence to be built on a corner lot on the north side of Hays. Delk focused on beaux-arts style of design which revisits European classical details, and he was well-versed in many styles using his innate sense of scale and proportion to create a design that suited each client’s needs.



Well-tailored façade of Schwaller House - Hays, Kansas

          He worked his magic for Henry Schwaller, and created a neatly-wrapped “jewel box” of light stucco, with red brick arches outlining the doors and windows. A horizontal band of brick wraps the house and establishes a façade line between the first and second floor, while the red Spanish tile creates the lid and harmonizes with the brick. The construction was completed in 1923. The year is significant, because that is when Delk began to focus on high-end residential design, and it was two years before Delk would land one of the most important clients of his career – Waite Phillips, a Tulsa oilman.

          The house appears much smaller from the street than it actually is. The single story appendages on each end and a rear two-story extension add considerable square footage. The rustic shutters on the second floor windows are a nice accent to the tailored façade. One of Delk’s signature items, decorative eaves at the roof overhang, gives a sense of scale to the exterior.

Decorative eaves - Schwaller House - Hays, Kansas
designed by Edward Buehler Delk

Decorative Eaves - Country Club Plaza - Kansas City, Missouri
Mill Creek Parkway Building, designed by Edward Buehler Delk

          The house today has been well maintained and is in mint condition, both inside and out. Even the original sprinkler system for the lawn is in working condition. Ironically, there is very little lumber in the construction, which seems unusual for a lumberman’s house. Delk was known to stress the idea of permanence and the use of fire-resistive materials, including clay block.

          Dr. Meade’s cousin, Henry Schwaller, IV, gave us a grand tour of the house. I was amazed at the condition of the interior, with most of the original light fixtures and chandeliers still in use. The interior furnishings add to the ambience of the 1920s residence, reminding visitors of a slower, gentler pace of life. Dr. Meade explained the south Sun Room was originally an open porch, and in 1984 he contracted with a German cabinet maker who enclosed the porch with arched windows that were compatible with the existing house.  



Schwaller House - Sun Room

          After the tour through the house, the host and guests greeted us with champagne in the parlor, where lively conversation ensued. It was an event that was befitting of the house and its history, and I could picture Delk enjoying just such an occasion, with pipe in hand, joining in the discussion of art and architecture.  A formal luncheon (with place cards) was served in the dining room, followed by more discussion and dessert. It was a grand meal, and my wife and I were warmly received and made to feel at home.  



Living Room/Parlor - Schwaller House

          When dessert was finished, we gravitated to the breakfast room where I gave the lecture and digital slide presentation titled “Edward Buehler Delk: Architect and Gentleman.” After such a big meal I was concerned that some of the guests might nod off during the lecture, but my fears were assuaged as all were attentive, and many had questions and comments at the end.



          We thanked our host, Dr. Meade, for the wonderful day and said “good bye” to his collies in the backyard. As I drove away from the house, the tires began to hum softly on the brick pavement. I accelerated onto I-70, where the dotted pavement lines seemed incongruous with the warm, 1920s ambience we left behind. My thoughts wandered to the “jewel box” in Hays as I made a half-hearted attempt to stay under the speed limit.

Curious Collies





Image of a Bygone Era
(photo courtesy of Henry Schwaller, IV)



 

Where Are You Going, O Little One?

Where Are You Going, O Little One?

                     by Greg Larson

Where are you going? Can I come, too?

Let’s watch the birds up in the sky.

Ask lots of questions that start with “why.”

Explore the world with a stick.

Discover things – what makes them tick?

What’s that turning? See what I found!

Jump on board the merry-go-round.

Ride in circles. Don’t stop now.

Clouds are spinning, I wonder how?

Where are you going? Can I come, too?

Kick off our shoes. What are they for?

Pretend the yard is a sandy shore.

Throw fistfuls of sand into the air.

Some falls to my head, what do I care?

Grab some crayons . . . color circles for you.

A masterpiece of red and cerulean blue.

Tape it to the fridge and smile so proud.

Then sing a song, and sing it loud.

Why are you crying, O little one? Why so blue?

The world is scary, not all sugar and spice.

Here’s a hug to make it nice.

Dry those tears and off we go

To better places, forget the woe.

Mom and Dad are busy today.

I have time. I can stay.

Run through the house, play peek-a-boo.

Hide under the bed – I see you!

Where will you go? Can I come, too?

You’ll grow up and get busy someday,

With places to go, so far away.

Wish I could come and follow you,

To see a person strong and true.

Pause for a moment, beside a stream.

Off with the shoes. Stop to dream

Of earlier days when you ran free,

When we had fun . . . you and me.