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Sunday, 14 September 2008 In June, after nine months of Cassie and Nate living there, I finally set out to visit them in Dekalb, IL. Both of them are attending grad school now: Cassie for Painting, Nate for Media-?(something or another). I had not seen their place yet, and our Chicago gallery day (and bitch session) was long overdue.
After gallery hoping and complaining about the amount of quality work, we of course had to go shopping, where we both picked out the same scarf to buy. We of course made our purchases and afterwards, even though we must be twins separated at birth, vowed never to wear our matching scarves at the same time when around the other. It didn’t even work for the Olsen twins. (The American ideology of individualism is always at war with the experience of a shared culture.) I know the cold stares that unwelcome the (summer) scarf as an accessory, as a piece of clothing that helps to regulate white body temperature in all situations. America's deep puritanical strain is evident in our questioning of ‘fashion’ comes the question, “Why do white people like scarves so much?” White peoples’ body temperatures do not operate on logical or consistent levels, and because of this white people are often wear clothing combinations that might seem strange or illogical. A common combination is wearing shorts with a sweatshirt that helps bring about comfort when your upper body is chilly but your lower half is sweltering. During winter months, it’s no surprise to find white people all bundled up with scarves around their necks – it just makes sense. But even as the weather warms up and the other layers start to fall off, the scarf remains. Not all white people wear scarves for temperature reasons. In fact, it’s not a rare occurrence to see a white person in a t-shirt, jeans, and a scarf. A scarf can be an essential part of an ensemble, allowing for important differentiation from other white people wearing the exact same clothes as them, thus allowing them to be picked out of the crowd for any number of purposes: (Puritans distrust the efficacy of fashion. Art. Theatre.) In the last thirty or so years, Westerners who wear the keffiyeh have done so for at least one of two reasons: increased sympathy and activism by Westerners toward Palestinians in the ongoing Israeli-Palestinian Conflict have lead to the wearing of keffiyehs around the neck like a neckerchief as a political/fashion statement, as a sign of their solidarity with the Palestinian people; or simply because it looks kind of hip slung around the neck.
Traditionally worn by rural Palestinian peasants, the keffiyeh became a symbol of Palestinian nationalism in the 1930s. Its prominence resurfaced in the 1960s with the beginning of the Palestinian resistance movement and its adoption by Arafat. Ironically, this symbol of Palestinian identity is now largely imported from China. Let us consider the effect of American culture on civilization. In 2008, Yasser Hirbawi, who for five decades had been the only Palestinian manufacturer of keffieyehs told Reuters that “Two years ago I had to close down my factory because I couldn’t compete with Chinese-made keffiyehs that sell for less.” As with other articles of clothing worn in wartime, such as the T-shirt and khaki pants, the keffiyeh has been seen as chic among non-Arabs in the West. The scarf has been in and out of style in Europe for the last couple of decades, but in the past few years, Americans have sported it as a fashion accessory, usually worn as a scarf around the neck – as often oblivious of its “political meaning” as not. Urban Outfitters started selling “anti-war keffiyehs” in 2007, but then pulled the keffiyehs after “a pro-Israeli activist… complained about the items” and issued a statement that “the company had not intended ‘to imply any sympathy for or support of terrorists or terrorism.’” So let’s briefly rewind for the benefit of those who from sheer lack of knowledge contend that the keffiyeh offers symbolic support for “Islamic extremism”, has come to symbolize murderous Palestinian jihad, and is a regular adornment of Muslim terrorists appearing in beheading and hostage-taking videos. It is interesting to note the keffiyeh was adopted by British soldiers during World War II, after which its utility made it an essential part of the wardrobes of not only European forces, but Australian, and indeed, American troops in the Middle East. For the most part, soldiers wear the keffiyeh in arid climates to provide protection from direct sun exposure, as well as for in protecting the mouth and eyes from blown dust and sand. What happens when a nation or people readily absorb a foreign culture? One would assume that because the keffiyeh has been worn by peace activists, terrorists, Saudis, US troops, and hipsters, its expression of iconography would begin to lose its political significance. How, then, shall we describe Americanization, except as loss? America is the country where one stops being Italian or Chinese or German. If we want to all don our own keffiyehs since when does that necessitate Islamic extremism and anti-Semitism? America represents the freedom to re-create the world. American’s lustily devour what they say they fear to become. (We learn to eat with chopsticks. We swing at piñatas for our 5 year-old birthday party. We wear keffiyehs.)
America is a dynamic society. Cultures are inducted into the American textbook, not merely as symbols of diversity, but as cultures that implicate our entire society. Without doubt, a multi-ethnic society and blurring of social boundaries that accompanies it doesn’t come without a sense of anxiety; imaginings of the exotic – the cultural ‘other’ – is at once glamour and dangerous. Difference is dangerous; dangerous is sexy, chic. Tuesday, 2 September 2008 So after multiple requests from Cassie, Mark, Cody, John, and Tabitha (among others), general confusion or lack of any direction on what to post, and after fighting with myself for months over if I should even continue to post, I have decided to re-enter the blogoshpere. Much has happened to me since I last posted, but more of such events as I post in the future. Intuition tells me I was meant for some other city. Las Vegas! Sin city. America's playground. The city can still seem, by comparison with where we came from, paradise. I moved here (read: drove across country), with the help of Chris, at the beginning of August, to start my new job, teaching Photography at Del Sol High School. I came across this email Tabitha sent me over a year ago, but I think its relevance is just as poignant now that I have movedaway (from Wisconsin) (again). ----- Original Message ----- Tony! When you left, all culture and civilization left with you. I've barricaded myself in a fortress with bricks of egocentricity that are held together by the mortar of elitism. I hear that all is well, and the tidbits of blog I've read have been both amusing and insightful, as usual per Tony. Cheers, It's true I have neglected my duties(?) with After Fighting (as a bastion of cultural insight?), but its one of its original intentions was to keep my friends and family informed of my travel experiences, whilst far away from home. Upon my return from Manchester last summer, After Fighting waned; my posts became fewer and farther between. I was living back in Wisconsin, hanging out with friends more, or at least keeping in closer contact with them, so the need to post diminished. I could have these cultural conversations with Tabitha and John when I visited them in Madison or with my short-term roommates, Alyssa and Jess, in Oshkosh. But now that I am away from them I have decided to take up my post(ing) once again. We will necessarily have novel thoughts that sprout from our observations of these new places. These different observations and thoughts if not recorded will inevitably be lost. They are unlike thoughts at home that are encountered on a daily basis. We will more often and more likely revisit the familiar objects of home simply by virtue that we are surrounded by them all the time. New places are a rich source of information and altered perspectives. I’ve been fortunate to have traveled to a number places, always carrying the lightest baggage (I moved everything important to me to Las Vegas in a Chevy Cavalier). The West – its manifesto – leave everything behind. Say goodbye to the world you thought you lived in. The immediate motives for our journeys are personal; but they might also be said to have belonged to a broader historical movement dating back to the middle of the nineteenth century, in which “settlers” (such a misnomer) began for the first time to travel in great numbers to the West in an attempt to “tame” this uncharted land – the muse of the “discoverer”, at once wanderlust and bounty. Something hopeful was created in the West through the century of its Protestant settlement. The schoolroom myth of America described an ocean – “internal immigrants” leaving behind time zones, desiring something new, better – but what exactly? People believed that in the West they could begin new lives.
The West (to the Midwestern) is a sad place, really – a place created by American children, a place of prefabricated houses and prefabricated New England or European attitudes, a place of pale beer, a place that only honors the future. At this point, I can only marvel at the comic achievement of the West, their defiance of history, the defiance of ancestors.
At any rate, I'm back. More to come. Sunday, 9 December 2007 Awhile back now Nate and Cassie were back in Dodgeville, from DeKalb, for the weekend. Cassie and I knew a visit (read bitch session) was past dew, and decided Mineral Point would be the ideal place to get together to chat it up, seeing as it was between Dodgeville and Platteville, and it has, what I would call, a folksy art scene. (See the pictures.) State Street in downtown Madison ("70 square miles surrounded by reality), would have perhaps been a more obvious choice for art and culture is also the home of many independent art studios and galleries, and is always alive with the roar of Wisconsin (read progress, liberalism, the avant-garde). Still the Madison is home to a decidedly more chic, glossy scene. Once a hub for lead and zinc miners, Mineral Point is now known for its historic preservation efforts and thriving arts community. Over the last 15 years the city has come to life, and many who have migrated there are involved with the arts. The town has been attracting artists and artisans since the 1930s, and now more than 20 own galleries and studios while others work out of their homes.
Today, it seems for most communities, growth is defined by the addition of subdivisions, strip malls, and a Wal-Mart, but in Mineral Point (one of the oldest towns in the state) growth is more closely associated with words like redevelopment, restoration, and preservation. Mineral Point is one of the few places where you can feel like you’re in a different time. No traffic lights here. The closest this city of just over 2,600 comes to fast food is a couple of competing sandwich shops. The artwork in the Mineral Point galleries, of course, aren't as “challenging” (read pretentious) or "out there" as what you'd see at, say, at the Madison Museum of Contemporary Art or Chazen Museum of Art. But what does that word – “challenging” even mean; what does it imply? Cassie and I talked to a handful of artists, who own galleries there, about this (cultural?) distance between the Madison and Mineral Point art scenes. The two scenes seem like different planets, each with a people who have different artistic ends than the other. This makes the galleries of Mineral Point very accessible to those who may have been turned off by the aesthetics of avant-garde art in the past. Most galleries are staffed by the artists themselves, so the person behind the desk is uniquely poised to talk about their art and approach. Taste is no longer reserved for those “in the know,” academics or the connoisseurs. You’re going to get a different crowd in Mineral Point than at a Madison gallery. You’ll get all kinds of people (read folks) who aren’t in the art world. Perhaps no one typifies this move, and shift in thinking, than ceramic artist Bruce Howdle, who recently left his ceramics lecturer position at UW-Madison to return to his alma mater in Platteville to teach ceramics and sculpture. It’s a story of a professor and artist who leaves the capital city university (read elitist liberalism) for the (conceptual?) tranquility of a small, equally bohemian-artistic town in southwestern Wisconsin. Visitors to his restored 1875 studio and gallery may find him working on drawings for new mural commissions or, like when Cassie and I visited, he was covered with wet clay from a session on his potter's wheel (despite so, he was stillmore than happy to oblige us with the full tour of his studio). Bruce sculpts big commissioned relief wall murals which he installs in public locations around the country.
To some Madisonians, Mineral Point is immediately suspect, probably seen as a backward city of beer, babushkas and bowling. Meanwhile, there is similar criticism (typecasting) from some of my old acquaintances in Mineral Point, who see Madison as a politically correct back-water of vegetarian, tree-hugging, wine-sipping, liberal bureaucrats. Madison can at times be hopelessly clueless; a town of pretentious people, who think they have all of the answers. This state, of course, is home of the Wisconsin Idea, the notion that the “best thinkers” at the University of Wisconsin (-Madison) should help solve the citizens’ problems. Many campus leaders believe the Wisconsin Idea Project has the potential to promote a “transformative” cultural shift. And, as a result of the Wisconsin Idea Project, Wisconsin citizens will become more aware of how UW-Madison impacts and benefits their lives. It is bizarre. Two cities just 40 miles and minutes away from each other seemed more like different continents, separated by the state’s own Mason Dixon-styled line of misunderstanding. The caricatured view each city has of the other can be amusing but in the long run hurts our conception of what art is (and isn’t). Avant-garde art also faces political dangers rooted in its own practice: its tendency to define its audience as necessarily inferior and ignorant. The problem being, this attitude reestablishes the hegemony of elitist, high culture. The avant-garde itself is eminently vulnerable to social and historical amnesia, forgetting traditions and relations outside the confines of its own artistic discourse. The avant-garde has always been stuck in the world of art rather than the real world as a basis for the work. The necessary result however, is the “elitist” categorization of culture either leaves out the contributions of others or marginalizes them as “folk traditions.” However, the avant-garde notion of art, which asserts the value of pure creativity, and (un-coincidentally?) regards itself as an elite at war with all of society, is no longer considered a credible explanation of how visual art is generated and communicated. The argument follows the premise that art is not made in a vacuum; there is no possible way to break the unity of art and life. Certainly art should be should have meaning; it is to be rooted in life experiences and interests. Hence, art is a means of communication between one man and another. Just as language transmits thought, so does art. Indeed, the avant-garde has the imagination to challenge passivity and uniformity, but addresses itself only to the art world (for no other purpose than itself). Would it be possible to overcome the contradiction between folk and avant-garde, to confront bourgeois hegemony over its own middle-American audience? One thing art, that involves itself with society, can do is to temper excessive individualism and anti-traditionalism in art. Thus, in true existential fashion we may look on the stuff on our own lives as food for probing reflection (and the argument follows, that we will find it not untypical of what the mass of mankind has known). When that begins to happen, who knows what kind of art might be possible. Friday, 16 November 2007 Now for some shameless (tactless) promotion of Alyssa’s and my latest The title of the exhibition is Desktop Landscape and Transculture, which attempts to talk about the function of art as it exists, intervenes, and operates in our lives. (More about Transculture to come...) The rhizomatically How do these I don’t want this post (indeed, this blog) to seem as crass self-promotion, so I think some reason must be provided to justify the post (or rather, myself). The show has been up for a couple of weeks now, and I hadn’t originally intended to blog about it; the show can speak for itself, just as this blog does. And for that matter, I think my Sketchblog does a fair job at communicating many of the same ideas, save for the way the images are presented to the viewer, but alas, we are working with different platforms, and each platform (the large space of a wall, where all of the images are seen at once and simultaneously versus sequentially dated web pages to note the date and order of the thought process), despite having their own attributes, and thereby merits, are still aptly able to speak (roughly) about the same ideas. The wall has the merit of seeing the whole, their unity, how the mind juggles all of these images; the blog, the merit of sharing the experience of the thought process, how ideas come to us, come back to us, linger, and eventually stick. I have already been carried away from my reasoning for the post. I unrepentantly, (though very pleasantly) received a couple of emails from friends who went to the show’s reception, and took the time to offer some feedback. I, unfortunately, couldn’t be at the opening reception, during the November Art Walk, so I couldn’t speak with viewers in person. Posted below is the email (review?) from Vicki, a painter and friend living in Oshkosh. I have also linked to her blog, so you can check out her lastest artistic endeavors. Tony~
Have you found a teaching position yet? How is Platteville treating you? I just finished visiting your blog, and had to give you a high five for watching the L Word. One of my favorite shows, for various reasons. I can't wait for it to return in January, and I hear rumors that Dana will frequent the show in the future, which made me giddy. She was my favorite character! Namaste~ Vicki P.S. See the picture version of this post. Sunday, 11 November 2007 Laim, I couldn’t agree with you more. I have been ruminating over your emailed response to the blog (I love receiving responses; that way I know I am communicating, albeit indirectly, with someone.) I hope my follow-up helps to elaborate on what I meant by my original sketchblog post. Let me just say before I begin, I hope the sketchblog becomes more of a springboard for the ideas I write about in the regular blog, like they have (will) with this post. I get these ideas, suddenly, seemingly from nowhere, and feel the urgency to get them down on paper, make them manifest, as a record of their existence. I suppose because the world is subtle, riddled with details, and we’re lumbering creatures whose senses fix on what they need and ignore the rest, we need time to let ideas soak, simmer, and incubate. With so many of our ideas and plans for life, there is never enough time to implement them all. We’re selective, not comprehensive. And for that matter, a good deal of our ideas turn out to be bad ones, and thankfully never come to fruition. Thus, the job of the unconscious (sketchbook) is to act as a workshop for rough shaping ideas, storing observations until something relevant appears in the landscape. But alas, this one has stuck to the wall like spaghetti noodles ready to come out of the boiling water. (Really, I just like that image. I am reminded of my eccentric aunt from Vegas who told me on a visit out to see her, when I was five, that you know the noodles are ready to eat if they stick to the wall. Much to my surprise, upon saying so, she threw some noodles to the wall.) I am here, interested in these common roots in terms of the relation between Midwestern criticism and Coastal critical theory. The idea of a “Midwest culture” never really occurs to most. However, this ‘Culture’ comes intuitively to those of us living in the Midwest and so I (we) don’t consciously think about it. Certainly, given the high degree of ignorance (or is it simply lack of exposure?) of the West Coast/East Coast-ers concerning Midwesterners – who are often stereotyped as unsophisticated and stubborn – I feel obligated to detail the Culture of upper Midwest. Though, by taking a closer look at Midwestern culture should help to clarify the record and realize certain things in the upper Midwest, particularly Wisconsin, are actually culturally progressive.
CNN recently conducted a survey to discover readers' favorite American cities, based on certain aspects like culture, people, dining and shopping. The list is supposed to serve as a basis for travelers who are looking to visit different parts of the country and experience the richness and benefits that each city has to offer. Unsurprisingly, the list, both frustrating and annoying, focuses on the "culture-rich" coastal cities like New York, Boston, Los Angeles, and San Francisco, while almost entirely ignoring the whole Midwestern United States. In fact, the only two Midwestern cities that were even considered for this survey were Chicago and Minneapolis. There's so much going on in the Midwest, it's a shame that, as a region, we are constantly maligned and designated as "fly-over states" just because we don't have the hustle and bustle of the big coastal cities. *This dialogue continues for some length, and so only those who are interested may continue reading here, and those of you who can't be bothered at the moment may continue without scrolling for a day and a half. Sunday, 4 November 2007 I sit entertained, in front of the computer screen, Youtube-television. This summer and into the fall, the days were more long and empty, animated only by occasional visits to Madison, Leisha’s house, or elsewhere in Oshkosh. Typically an active season, summer has been for me a time of gestation, whose knowledge arrived whole and at once, though its meaning would take months. I guess technically, the Dog Days of Summer are kind of hard to pin down. I had thought they were the last couple of weeks in August, but apparently they can extend from August through October. Though I employ the term to mean more of the stagnant feeling you get (read endure), and not the actual stagnant heat. I know now my mind has changed modes. There has been a connection to fecundity – as my existential opposite. (Perhaps this has a correlation with supporting Hillary as the presidential candidate for the Dems.) Which bespeaks the question with Hillary: why is America skeptical of her? It seems obvious: she is – gasp – a woman! Since August I’ve been wondering when the nation is going to bring up The Woman Question. That is, when is someone going to start asking if Hillary can lead because she’s female, or pointing to sexism, or looking at her female support, or asking if she’s too manly/not manly enough. Clinton has needed to cultivate toughness because she has been constantly attacked by the media for years - remember all the broughaha over her coral suit?
A few days after the 30 October Democratic debate in Philadelphia, that day has arrived. There has since been a flurry of postings about Hillary’s masculine and feminine qualities after, according to one journalist, “[John Edwards] set out to prove it’s OK to hit a girl.” Edwards hit Clinton so many times that as the night wore on, she began to seem punch drunk, unsure of what was on or off the table. But I think Tuesday proved Clinton is too clever. We know she has a thin skin. Hours after the debate, her campaign released a video on Youtube called The Politics of Pile On. We've always known she was smart, but are “we” skeptical of her because she is “hormonal.” I think in the back of many minds we wonder if the person whose emotions run the gamut from A to B, for one week of the month, is too fickle/irresolute (read prone to instablility)? But such a declaration is too politically incorrect to mention, though by comparison, Bush has enough testosterone to sweep into the entire Middle East to eradicate what the neo-cons like to term “Islamofascism.” I can only hope the nation is able to see her for what she is: tough with a heart.What I’m surprised by, actually, is how men are supporting her, too. I was sure they’d put her into the “cold hard bitch” bracket. Instead, her careful maneuvering seems to be working. She isn’t too angy; she isn’t too passive; and she has long been an advocate for women’s and children’s issues. It’s a hard line to walk. But Hillary is showing herself to be a woman who can do the job. P.S. I've missed (regular?), as opposed to sketch-blogging in this month-long interim. I'm back; stay tuned. |
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The Globe Theatre was officially closed by order of the dominant Puritan religious faction in 1642 and demolished in 1644.
