Rosa Lowinger, author of Dwell Time, grew up in a family that provides added meaning to the term “dysfunctional.” She is an art conservator, who looks at her family through the prism of her profession. Concrete is one example of the interplay between the two.
“Reinforced concrete is a perfect metaphor for marriage,” Lowinger writes. Like a couple providing mutual support, the steel strengthens the concrete; the cement’s alkaline nature keeps the steel from corroding.
It seems to be a symbiotic relationship, but it’s not perfect. Carbon dioxide in polluted air penetrates the concrete, making it more acidic and thus less able to protect the steel; cracks permit water and air in, further corroding it. Salt in the area can make the situation worse.
“Walking in a neighborhood of seriously deteriorated concrete is as sobering an experience as watching a marriage fall apart,” Lowinger states. ”Cracks appear like jagged wounds, bleeding orange rust. The stains are cries of accusation at those who have failed to provide the regular maintenance that is necessary for aging concrete as upkeep is for marriage.”
Then there’s “inherent vice,” a term meaning a work of art with “intrinsic defects.” But, the author notes, inherent vice also applies to her grandfather and mother. Both of them have “mercurial temperaments... Whether these flaws were baked into their personalities – like clay that has the wrong inclusions – or a product of the hardships of their lives is for a trained psychotherapist to unravel.”
Terrazzo, a mosaic flooring made of chips, broken stone, and cement, is “robust” but cracks when it settles or expands. “It’s hard to fix without leaving enormous scars,” the art conservator says. “It reminds me of my family, those Eastern Europeans who left for America and found themselves settled in the tropics, only to be forced to bust out of their foundation within a few decades.” Her mother, she writes, knew “when it was time to flee the country of her birth, but has a way of smashing relations to smithereens.”
Delving into family dynamics
The book’s title, Dwell Time, refers to the amount of time needed for an agent to act on products such as marble, ceramic, and steel.
In the book, the family-conservation construct is interesting, but perhaps somewhat overdone. There are 16 chapters, each chronicling a different area of an art conservator’s work. It’s a fascinating look at an unknown world, which might have been made even better had it been more limited.
But it is a memoir and not a happy one. Her parents argued often and vociferously, even if their makeups seemed often to result in spasms of love and passion.
Her mother terrorized Lowinger and often attacked her. She writes: “My arms pinched hard, my ponytail yanked so abruptly that I would lose my balance... Her rebukes were even more disturbing. ‘I gave you life, and I can take it away!’ my mother hissed... Typical kid misbehaviors – whining, fighting with another girl, getting a poor report card from preschool, or continuing to color or play with my toys when she said it was time to take a bath – would send her flying at me, belt in hand.”
But, she writes, that’s not the whole story. “...there was also active kindness, humor, and generosity in my family.”
When the author was 14, her mother allowed a friend to live with them for a year as her parents were undergoing a tough divorce. When Lowinger’s brother Steven was in high school, her mother opened their home to a friend whose father was a drug addict and couldn’t care for him.
This is a well-written, offbeat, and powerful memoir, deserving of consideration.
The writer’s memoir Figs and Alligators: An American Immigrant’s Life in Israel in the 1970s and 1980s (Chickadee Prince Books) is available online and at bookstores.
- DWELL TIME: A MEMOIR OF ART, EXILE, AND REPAIR
- By Rosa Lowinger
- Row House Publishing
- 331 pages; $28