Of Pirates, Poets and Mysteries of the Heart

Photo from The Morgan Website

When I was younger I tried my hand at keeping a diary but just couldn't maintain it very long. Too many distractions.  And most of my diary days were just not that interesting.  But for some, a diary can be a good friend, a confession booth, a way to make amends, get even or set the record straight.  And before the myriad electronic interventions that so complicate our lives, recording one's take on the thoughts/events of the day was more meaningful.  And more rewarding.  

Some fascinating diaries are now on view at The Morgan Library in NYC. The Morgan calls it The Diary:  Three Centuries of Private Lives.   Here's their take on it:  For centuries, people have turned to diaries to mark time, sort out creative problems, help them through crises, comfort them in solitude or pain, or capture memories for the future. Today, as we find new ways to document our unfolding lives—in blogs, online diaries, and social networks—this exhibition looks back over several centuries to explore the enduring drive to leave a trace of our passing days.  

And thanks to the imagination and creativity of The Morgan's web team you can access highlights of the exhibit online.  There's an engaging web page with audio guide that sets the stage for each diary on view.  And a podcast series with an actor reading selections from each diary.  It's quite an experience as you listen to the thoughts and key moments from the lives of writers like Charlotte Bronte, Sir Walter Scott, Walt Whitman or the scourge of the Spanish Main, British pirate Bartholomew Sharpe, among others.  

From The Morgan Website

If you go to the Diary Podcast, you'll find a fascinating account of the pirate's exploits, as read by actor Paul Hecht.  Sharpe has an eye for details and his words make you feel like you're right there, marching alongside him and his band of cutthroats as they burn and pillage their way to Panama.


I haven't sampled the other diary excerpts yet, but they'll be posted on the Morgan's site throughout the length of the exhibit.  And one more thing.  My son, Ben directed and produced the audio guide and podcasts for The Morgan.  Not only do they help make the diaries more accessible, they give new life to all those words written so long ago.   

Pay Attention

Paying attention?  Not doing it could get you in big trouble: with your teachers, your spouse, your boss, your pals. Paying attention is a high quality activity. It's one of those unspoken American values that is expected of any would-be achiever.  Daydreaming, being distracted, is not.  At best, it's in the room for improvement arena.  At worst, it's in the DSM, as attention deficit disorder.  And millions of people share that diagnosis.   

Creative types have issues with all of this, especially the paying attention part.  Creatives are more easily distracted.  Our minds wander, slip sliding around thoughts, images and all the flotsam and jetsam sloshing around in our collective brains.  Jumping around in all those creative leaps.  So what's up with all that?

Well, here's a surprising bit of data for you: scientists are finding that inattention is part of the creative experience.  Here's a quote from a recent WSJ:  "Researchers have found a surprising link between daydreaming and creativity -- people who daydream more are also better at generating new ideas."   

The WSJ goes on:  A new study found that student winners of science fairs and art shows are more likely to be diagnosed with ADD.  They were able to achieve more than their peers, "their inability to focus turned out to be a creative advantage."

Puts it all in a different light, doesn't it.  I find most of my creative leaps happen when I'm not working on a project.  Somehow, the brain needs a break from conscious effort to do its deepest problem solving.  And those little sojourns to elsewhere are often energizing.  Which means you can be paying attention, even when you're not.  

Tom Stone's Unvarnished Truth

Still Airborne

Indigo Child

Spring Rain

You can see his work on Flicker.  His portraits are almost all of people living on the edge.  Broken promises, broken dreams.
Hard to hang out with their images.  You can see the loss and pain in their eyes.  Some are scary, their anger waging war just below the surface.  Some are burnt out, others lost their way.  Wanderers, drifters, missing persons.  And to most of us, invisible.  But not for San Francisco artist Tom Stone.  He clearly feels a connection, and his work has a clarity and openness that shines through. It's strong stuff though, and I'm so aware of sitting in my warm, comfortable home as I look at portraits of all these people who live without.  And seeing them, through Tom Stone's eyes, brings the street right into my head.  

Tom Stone

And then there's the words Stone adds to his pictures.  Telling their story like they would tell it.  When he can.  His piece on Still Airborne for example.  Stone captures the moment they share together, on the street, in the world.  You can tell from his artist statement that he's looking for that common thread, that human connection, that binds us with the people he photographs.  There's passion in his work, and honesty and the courage to look broken dreams in the face.  Hold the gaze.  And reach out a hand.

Getting Rediscovered

NPR has "found" photographer Gita Lenz, whose work was exhibited on the walls of the Museum of Modern Art in the 1950s.  For reasons unknown she fell out of view and was only rediscovered last year by circumstance.  Her neighbor, helping her move to assisted living, found a treasure of prints and negatives boxed up in her home.  He just happened to know a photographer, Gordon Stettinius, who also fell in love with her work.  The neighbor and the photographer put together a monograph.  I "found" her wonderful images when I wrote about her work in an earlier post on photography.  And a friend of NPR writer Claire O'Neill who does The Picture Show told her about Lenz, which led to her piece on their website.  Where talent is concerned, luck is a mighty factor.   talent + serendipity + circumstance = recognition.

Motoi Yamamoto's Salt

Motoi Yamamoto sculpts with salt.  I find his work a little confounding, it's formality brings up such varied feelings.  Of course, the whole execution is stunning.  And it fits nicely into the genre of conceptual art.  Salt, a basic building block of life.  Salt, sculpted into a labyrinth seemingly without end.  Salt, a mediation on grief.  His work was recently featured on the NPR site.  A more satisfying overview is on the Force of Nature site.  It has a fuller explanation of how the artist sees his work.  And two time-lapse videos of the construction process as well as some detail photos like the one below.

As a Westerner I feel at a disadvantage in trying to decode what I am seeing.  I feel there is something about this that is very "Japanese".  There is a carefulness, a haunting perfection, a sense of ritual and frozen motion that remind me of their classical treatment of waves, fabric and ancient design.  A study in patience.  Quiet movement. I like how each line fits within another line, in a gentle curve ever unfolding.   


I think the process of making the work must be a kind of catharsis for the artist.  The discipline required boggles the mind.  And yet the rigidity of the concept carries within it a greater and refined beauty.  Much of it due to Mr. Yamamoto's exquisite sense of design.   

And here's how I understand it: within the labyrinth lays, perhaps, the totality of a life. Each turn the pulse of a beating heart, one's path so clearly outlined, yet only understood in the totality of the viewing.  Life unfolding, moving, reaching and yet constantly turning in upon itself.  And profoundly impermanent.  

See Me Tell Me

Subway Saints (on going)

Continuing on the theme of collaboration and innovation, my daughter Jennifir sent me info about an artist friend, See Me Tell Me who collaborates directly with the public, bypassing galleries, dealers, critics, marketers, and the like.  See Me Tell Me has created a new definition of public art as she scatters her works all around the city for people to discover.

Bound Numbers (completed)

And she asks whoever happens upon her latest art installation to let her know which work they find (there are different series and are all numbered) and where.  A very cool idea.  

Little Monsters (on going)

And her work has it's own intricacies 
that resonate on a number of levels, 
from comic to cosmic.  Her inspiration comes from people and places in the city.  And are quite a gift in their own right.  I think all of us love the idea of the hand-made object, and here with the art of See Me Tell Me we're bumping into work that has been lovingly crafted.  I find the whole thing ingenious.  And I like the idea that the person discovering the work is asked to get in touch with the artist.  Completes the circle, doesn't it.  


I also loved reading about it on the Subway Art Blog.  What?  Of course there's a blog about subway art. Where else in the city is it such a delight to encounter the unexpected?  And blogger Jowy documents finding one of her works.

And, since we're talking about collaboration, there's also all  that music that flows through the tiled halls of the NY subway system.  The Subway Art Blog posts about that too. 


And there's New York's Underbelly project that I wrote about last year, where a hundred artists created work in an abandoned subway station deep in the bowels of the city.  And the lush and festive places that inform Sweden's Metro that I described here last month.  Wow, under+ground = fertile+ground.  Transforming the routine into the sublime.

Who Are the Real Innovators?

Here's a quote from the NYT:  "Since the Australian economist Joseph A. Schumpeter published 'The Theory of Economic Development' in 1934, economists and governments have assumed that the industrial and business sectors are where ideas for products originate."  


Okay, we all think we know this to be true:  small business drives the economy and big business spends the big bucks on R&D.  Together they're the power behind all that innovation and entrepreneurial drive that so defines our economic and political system.  That's us: a nation of doers and innovators, powered by our industrial and business savvy.  Right?  

Well, maybe it's really something else.  Which leads us to the recent findings of the innovation researcher to my left, Eric A. von Hippel.  In a study funded by the British government, he and his research posse found this: "the amount of money individual consumers spent making and improving products was more than twice as large as the amount spent by all British firms combined on product research and development over a three-year period."   


Well that's certainly a different take on it.  So it's us, the people, that are the real innovators.  For example, according to von Hippel's research, 3/4 of the innovations in scientific instruments come from users.  And that leaves the small and large companies to be the marketers and manufacturers of all this innovation.  


I like that.  We, the people, make it happen.  


This kind of blows the old mythology out of the water.  So, it's individuals who are the real doers and innovators.  They/we come up with the cool ideas and new ways of doing.  Take the Internet, for example.  You can immediately think of new ideas and innovations there.  

And this leads to another way of innovating I'd like to talk about, and that is people working together to make something happen.  Again, the Internet is the place.  And a particular site I found fascinating when I first wrote about it is still out there innovating.  HitREcord is the brainchild of RegularJOE, AKA Joseph Gordon-Levitt.  Hit the Red Button on the site to join up and you can help "create and develop art collaboratively."


It's really a cool idea.  One person writes.  Another does the music.  Another animates something based on the writing.  And then there's the remixes and mashups and reworking.


That's the basic concept, really, that anyone can redo anyone else's work on the site, theoretically making it better, of course.  And, an interesting kicker is, if RegularJOE decides, given his connections within the entertainment industry, that he can make a buck with it, then he'll share the profits 50-50.   

They have some interesting videos on their site.  A short, poetic piece is "Train Now Leaving."  It feels like the work of one person but is actually a collaboration of several.  And an example of a simple idea well executed. 


Maybe this concept of collaborative creation is the future.  Maybe it's too idealistic to have legs.  I can see it either way. 


So what about this innovation thing?  One of the drivers is that we're so individualistic, so oriented towards the belief that one person can make a difference.  And innovation is so demanding, I think it happens when someone believes they have the ability/power/insight to bring into the world something new.   It's also something that requires the freedom to examine and  explore, confidence and vision.  And I'd say it's nice to have a little luck, too.  

Musings on Style and Vision

Many photographers develop a style that seems to define their work.  That was certainly true of the old masters.  Take one of my all time favorites, Walker Evans, for example.  His work for the Farm Security Administration is so distinctive.  Perhaps due to his subject matter, but certainly in his eye for composition.  And like all artists, he needed to experiment and grow.  I saw a retrospective of some of that work at The Metropolitan Museum of Art.  And while there were some departures from his Depression era photos, including an experiment with subway candids, I think his vision and artistry is best defined by his starkly beautiful FSA images.  You can definitely feel the man behind the camera when you look at that work.


Recently I was perusing the work of Matt Slaby, one of the six photographers that make up Luceo Images.  Two images of his work are below.












I was struck by two portfolios on his site.  The first, Gun Culture USA is more in the typical journalistic tradition.  It's the content that makes the images powerful.  Some are stylized, like the one on the left, while others are more simply recording an event.  But together they make a potent statement about America's love affair with weaponry.  


The way he's positioned these two men in a field, with the strong lines of furrowed ground running to a vanishing point behind them gives the image a surreal quality.  Which is heightened by the juxtaposed gestures of the two men.  The effect is almost laughable, save the deadly force contained in the weapons they're holding.  


Another portfolio The Gulf Oil Spill also has some nicely made images of the impact of the BP disaster.   But the other portfolio I'd like to recommend is The Other Border.  It's quite strong in a totally different way.  The images are dreamlike, abstracted.  Looking at them, you become filled with a sense of mystery and can seemingly track the traces of memory.  I mean, I don't feel like I'm actually seeing what is there, rather I'm seeing a visualization of what the photographer witnessed.  


This work is about the immigrant journey and what you see is strange and dark, mirroring the difficult path taken by the people we see and sense through the photographs.  I like them very much, especially because they're so different from his other work.  And their dreamlike quality gives them a haunting power that echoes the stark reality of their lives.

Of Poets, Musicians and a Home for Both

Now I know the world has really changed.  It's certified and on the Web: The Library of Congress is webcasting.  A lecture and presention series on Music and the Brain.  Webcasts on the first Spiderman drawings, early animations, National Book Festival author readings, lectures, music performances, early films - all on the Library's YouTube channel.  Yep, the Library puts a lot of stuff on YouTube.


One webcast I can recommend, because I happened to be there at the time, was a conversation between Poet Laureate Ted Kooser and John Prine, with Kooser reading some poems  and Prine performing some of his songs.  Kooser has a website where he reads some of his poems.  I especially like the poem Osage.  

At the time of their on stage conversation, Kooser said Prine was one of his heroes and, as Poet Laureate, he could invite anyone he wanted to the Library of Congress.  He chose Prine and it was a lovely evening.  And here it is.  
Deja Vu all over again.

Al's Dream

It took Al Attara 32 years or so to realize his dream.  Back then he was quite the visionary.  He bought the building you see in the photo with the idea that it would serve as a shelter for baby businesses.  His plans were stymied until a few years ago when he was able to invite other entrepreneurial dreamers to share his.  And today this seven story building is home to scientists, architects, fashion designers and cupcake makers.  Sharing space also means sharing ideas and often projects.  One business stimulates another.  And you get a wonderful mix of possibilities for mentoring, collaboration and inspiration.
  
I love his concept, because when you're open to the possibilities, good things can follow.  And inevitably, some of these projects will lead to profitable businesses.  And all the opportunities for sharing make them a great training ground.


It also makes me think about how the changes in our particular industry have created a greater sense of isolation.


I learned my craft working as an assistant.  Back then there were ample opportunities to find that kind of work.  And I was able to learn and practice my skills on the job, since the people who hired me were also willing to teach me what I needed to know.  And they were right there, so I could observe and ask questions.


And when I became more skilled, I started hiring my own assistants and helped pass on to them much of what I had learned from others.  And we'd often talk about what we were trying to accomplish and what approach to pursue.  I would teach them, they would teach me.  It was a great way to learn and grow.  And I liked all the back and forth.  It made for a rich work experience.



But advances in technology have changed the working environment in so many ways.  And now I typically work alone; there's rarely any time or money for an assistant.  Which makes it a lot tougher for someone just starting out.  And makes me all the more admiring of Al Attara's ability to realize his philanthropic vision on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn, New York.

All the News That's Fit

Lots of people writing about Rupert Murdoch's The Daily.  I like the Economist's take the best.  The Daily, a subscription news thingy, was created for the iPad.  I was going to call it a newspaper, but it isn't printed and that's the whole point.  And while you can applaud his entrepreneurial moxie for adding yet another media entity to his empire, the Economist looks at the issue of revenue, which is more to the point.  


Someone with deep pockets can finance a news entity, as we've seen before.  In the old days, they did it out of a love for the medium, and the prestige of owning a newspaper.  These days it's more of a numbers game.  Is it the end of print?  Probably not.  But it's certainly a move toward two kinds of news, the thoughtful, insightful and well-reported, which we are seeing less of.  And the flash and dash quickbite, with Mr. Murdoch in the vanguard.

OnBeing and the Art of the Interview, Second Look

A few years ago now I mentioned the Washington Post's experiment with video profiles they call OnBeing as part of a larger piece on the Art of the Interview.  The series went on hiatus for a while and now is back.  Created by Jennifer Crandall, each three-minute piece presents a new person against a white background, talking to camera. Each talks about something important to them, something that helps define who they are or who they hope to become.  They're very informal and she keeps it short and sweet.
You can find some background about the series here.  And an interview with Jennifer here.

What makes the pieces so interesting, and worth writing about, is how skilled Jennifer is as an interviewer.  Of course, all we see is the results of her efforts.  And here's what I notice:  the people are relaxed, open, speaking  easily.  They're thoughtful, trying to find the right words to express what they want to say.  They seem like people we'd like to know. All in all, it's a friendly, intimate experience. 


What we don't see is how Jennifer puts them at ease, makes them feel like they're just sharing thoughts and feelings with an old friend.  We don't see how her curiosity invites them to talk about themselves and her journalistic background helps her edit their monologue into an inviting and often intriguing portrait.  And then, once the one or two big ideas or story points are explored, it's time to move on.  Her editing style, using multiple jump cuts to get to the heart of the matter, works for this kind of piece too.  It adds a sense of authenticity.  You can see that manipulation, but she does such a good job with the rhythm and flow of ideas you don't mind not hearing what's been cut out.  Don't even think about it.


But, for me, what makes onBeing really stand out is how easy it is for us to hook into the people Jennifer has chosen.  They feel so fresh, real, vital.  You know, I've heard it said that magic is all done with mirrors.  In this case, I think what feels so good is just a reflection of her artistry.