Sometime during the afternoon of my visit to his home along the Sandy River, Father Palladino asked if I knew he’d been in a movie.
After his other startling revelations, this was just one more teaser.
Well, he qualified, his name had been in a movie.
While teaching calligraphy at Reed College, he said, he’d had a student in one of his classes–a young man who’d subsequently dropped out, though not before he’d returned for a second term studying and practicing the craft.
It was clear he wanted me to ask who the student was, and I did.
Steve Jobs, he replied.
Steve Jobs? Studying calligraphy?
Father Palladino did not philosophize about the matter with me then and there, though he’d likely often done so with others. He left me to wonder alone what it was about Steve Jobs, the great technological innovator of global consequence, which drew him to calligraphy–and not for just one college term but two.
It seemed to me this must provide a window in to the mind and motivation of the man, the titan. Was it as simple as the elegance of the artform?
How would elegance fit into a mind of… Continue reading
Yes, dear reader, we are in the midst of a serial blogpost…
Father Palladino, as I now knew him to be, invited me to his home (a small farm several miles southeast of Portland) and we settled on a time and date. I asked for his address so I could MapQuest it, but he said he didn’t do computers; he’d mail me an address and map. I decided not to tell him about Siri.
Several days later an envelope arrived, my name and address written in an elegant, oversized script. Calligraphy, done by a master of his craft. The manner of it, the beauty of it, elevated my day. Inside the envelope was a letter of welcome, warm in its content and beautifully penned in the same letterform as the envelope. Also enclosed was a hand-drawn map. Gentlemanly manners at their very best.
Wending my way through an evergreen forest and down and across the Sandy River, I arrived to find Father Palladino waiting for me at a gate alongside the road. He swung it open, closed it behind me and guided me down a curving,… Continue reading