Archive for the ‘Photos’ Category

The tremendous strength of America

Thursday, January 21st, 2010

A personal essay by David Owen (“The Dime Store Floor”) graces the Jan. 25, 2010 edition of The New Yorker magazine. Throughout the piece Owen’s narrative is intermittently brilliant, as he riffs on a theme posed as a question: What did childhood smell like? I think Owen should try his hand at writing a novel. At one point he describes a recent bike ride near his home, as he came upon members of a girls’ high-school cross-country team running in tight formation:

“As I passed the girls I rode through the invisible trailing cloud of their mingled shampoo fragrances, and suddenly I felt a sort of dumbbell patriotism. My thought was something like this: This is the tremendous strength of America — our vigorous, optimistic young people and their clean, clean hair.”

Dumbbell patriotism. I like that formulation. As an expression of aw-shucks awe at this, our country, and what this country hosts, it captures what I feel each time I come across some vibrant display of the nation’s life-blood.

I’m especially moved to thanks-giving by instances of everyday, nonchalant tolerance. In concept America is defined by freedom and diversity of thought in the public sphere. Happily, there are still a visible examples of that in practice. Consider the advertisement I spotted this week on the rear end of a public bus chugging along Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, DC.

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British novelist Ian McEwan, in conversation with Richard Dawkins, is less sanguine about the durability of America’s greatness in this regard. Video here. Dawkins mentions what he sees as an America “rapidly degenerating into a theocracy.” McEwan agrees, and says this development is “one of the most extraordinary reversals in history, isn’t it? You have this extraordinary social experiment: America, an immigrant state, founded in reaction to the religious absolutisms of Old Europe. And then, fast-forward a couple of hundred years, you have at least in Western Europe, more or less entirely, a set of secular governments, and political conversations conducted without any reference to God, while the United States is a place where you cannot hold high office without invoking this Deity.”

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Found art with a seasonal theme

Sunday, December 13th, 2009

This week I raked leaves in front of the house. While cleaning out the tree box near the curb I found, amongst brown oak leaves blown there from up the block and around the corner, a crumpled piece of paper. Unfolded, it revealed a drawing done with colored pencils. The artist’s use of line and color suggests it is from the hand of the same child artist responsible for the sidewalk chalk-drawing of a Mouse Musketeer I came upon last summer. (That earlier work is reproduced here.)

On the 9″ by 6″ sheet are two figures: a reindeer and snowman. The snowman sports a two-tiered hat, a classic carrot-orange nose, a lopsided mouth like Dick Cheney’s – and a rarely seen pair of legs and feet.

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The relational displacement of the snowman’s eyes, nose and mouth recall the portrait innovation Picasso developed in the 1930s — a style that led many exasperated viewers to blurt out, “My kid could do that!”:

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i live. i ride. i am. i yi yi.

Sunday, December 6th, 2009

The first six words in the title of this post — if you count each un-capitalized “i” as a word — is the tagline of a new advertising campaign for Jeep vehicles. The campaign’s 30-second TV commercials have not been well received by media observers. See, for example, comments herehere, and here. Jeep is also placing “i live, i ride, i am” advertisements in magazines, and in my opinion these are truly, madly, deeply, bad. I’m talking about text so awful it defies parody. Here is a two-page spread in the December 14, 2009 edition of TIME magazine (pages 34-35):

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The words that appear in faint gray type in the upper right quadrant — the text providing the premise for the punchy tagline — reads as follows:

i’ve been through hell and high water

i can text but prefer to talk

i read Keats and wear cleats

i think toy dogs are ok

but big dogs rule

i get my “fresh catch” from

the sushi bar sometimes

i wear all earth tones,

but mud is my favorite.

Yes, those lower-case “i”s are indigenous to the copy. It wouldn’t surprise me if a phalanx of Apple attorneys were suspiciously eyeing those “i”s. It also wouldn’t surprise me if those same lawyers offer Chrysler, in lieu of crippling litigation, a friendly settlement proposal calling for minor changes in the tag line:

i live. i ride. i phone. i pod. i mac. i am.

But for now let’s give credit where credit is due. It was the Mad Men at Jeep’s advertising firm who came up with the idea of eschewing margins in favor of pseudo-poetically centering each of the nine descriptive lines. And it was their idea to italicize the word sometimes — a nuance sure to render many a reader weak-kneed.

I confess I was puzzled, however, to find the bold lack of punctuation surrendering to convention just when the statement reaches its final two lines. It’s as if the copywriter, almost done with the task, was suddenly touched by the ghost of her tenth grade English teacher, who whispered a plea:  A comma and a period, please!

On the other hand, who among us can resist forming a wry smile at the rhyming of Keats with cleats?  Clever.

As for the trendy sentiments expressed in the ad, yes, they’re sophomoric. But so what? (The visiting ghost came from the tenth grade, remember?) Maybe the whole thing is an homage to the malarkey found in the Manifesto of Thompson Hotels?

But enough about words. The bigger oddity is the photo in the left panel of the ad. This, presumably, is the Keatsian survivor of the fabled watery hell (or was it hellish waters?). This is a man who does not know for sure whether tonight’s dinner will include sushi. Can you blame him for scowling at us? Of course not.

But I wonder: Why was he asked to take a pose that is in-your-face and awkward, macho and goofy? Hey, I know the arm swing’s a guy thing; I do it too. But here’s the risk: Someone will be tempted to suggest this guy’s next gig ought to be on stage playing opposite Katisha (She: “My right elbow has a fascination that few can resist.” He: “Ditto my left, baby.”)

Is it just me, or do you also find the more you stare at the picture the more his bare forearm looks like a raw turkey drumstick attached to his left ear? (OK, maybe it’s just too close to Thanksgiving for me.) Whether it be a drumstick or an arm, the fact is the thing’s projecting forward from pictorial space, and none too elegantly. As artists will testify, foreshortening can be a bitch. See, for example, Durer’s posthumously published treatise, De Symmetria. So why did the creator of the ad go there, and why compound the problem by featuring a limb that’s freakishly fingerless?

At least when we watch Simon Cowell’s bad habit of scratching the back of his neck, we see him in motion (as in this video at 1:41 – 1:43) and we get to see his hand, as shown in this screen shot:

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[As for the title of this post, if you want to read more about "i yi yi" (aka, "Aye Yi Yi"), an expression used to show frustration, hopelessness, sadness, annoyance, click here and here.]

New Acquisition: Forged Steel Sculpture by Herb Babcock

Friday, December 4th, 2009

I recently acquired at auction this abstract sculpture.  Four views:

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Just 16″ tall, this is an early work in forged steel by the contemporary sculptor, Herb Babcock. Babcock was born in Bloomdale, Ohio in 1946. In 1967 he attended Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture, then received his BFA in sculpture from the Cleveland Institute of Art in 1969 and an MFA from the Cranbrook Academy of Art in 1973. He currently serves as Chairman of the Glass Department at the College for Creative Studies in Detroit, where he has been a professor since 1974. Babcock lives in Oxford, Michigan. His website is here; a curriculum vitae, which unfortunately stops at the year 2000, is found here. An example of his work in glass is this beautiful vessel. Today Babcock may be known best for his public commissions, often of a monumental size, that combine glass, steel, and stone.

UPDATE (04-02-2011)

On March 12 I received the following email message from the sculptor, Herb Babcock, along with three photos. His title for this 1967 piece is “Balanced Forms”:

Mr. Ettner,
Can’t remember if I sent you these images of when this sculpture was new. It was a purchase prize award at the Cleveland Institute of Art Spring Student Show, 1967, where I was in my 3 year working on a BFA in sculpture. The piece was made up of forged and cut steel. The interiors of the steel forms were polished metal. The outside areas were finished with a patina of burnt in linseed oil.  It looks like the piece has not been cleaned for quite a while.
Best regards,
Herb

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Parking Garage: A Nocturne

Saturday, November 21st, 2009

In the grainy images below, an old and crumbling parking garage is captured through the lens of a two-pixel cell phone camera. The building is a bare-bones concrete structure with 14 levels, its roof open to the city. As night falls and closing time approaches, owners retrieve a few remaining cars and drive a curling path down to the street. What remains behind is brutal architecture . . . and a spooky emptiness.

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Fall Gardens On My Block

Thursday, November 19th, 2009

This afternoon at 4:00pm:

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Was the name “Misanthrope Lane” taken?

Sunday, October 11th, 2009

Driving through rural Maryland this afternoon, I saw a sign announcing two country roads, left and right, up ahead.

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Sure enough, a hundred yards further along I came upon a turn-off.

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So warned, I stuck to the main road.

Introducing . . . Us?

Friday, October 9th, 2009

Launched in the early 1970′s, the Pioneer 10 and 11 interplanetary probes are now traveling through interstellar space. Attached to each spacecraft is a durable gold anodized aluminum plaque designed by astronomer Carl Sagan.  The plaques contain information designed to explain the origin and creators of the vehicles.  Explain to whom, you ask?  To alien civilizations out there somewhere. The markings that are sure to be most intriguing to them are line drawings depicting a pair of humans:

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I thought of that plaque recently when I started to come across earth-bound vehicles, usually minivans, sporting decals that show humans in stick-figure fashion.  Here’s an example:

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Just as with Pioneer 10 and 11, these markings are intended to convey a basic message: “Behold the animating forces behind this vehicle.” But — fearful thought — what if these decals survive for millennia, long after we’re gone? Won’t these drawings confuse the hell out of alien archaeologists who come to study the earth? Will they think they’ve come upon a planet once dominated by creatures lacking fingers, toes, and noses? Where most inhabitants were fond of decorated discs, and a few others wore belts of tree mushroom fungi?

As for the here and now, you can find a lively discussion over at the Mother Proof blog, where blogger Emily Hansen’s post (“Banish Stick Figure Decals!”) inspired an 18-month-long trail of comments, pro and con.  Anti-decal sentiment is strong.  This fad may fade.

Aliens will be grateful.

Tree Mushroom Fungi

Sunday, October 4th, 2009

A couple of years ago, in a short review of a slim book of poetry, Eric McHenry made this observation:

“American poetry — according to one of the many competing caricatures — is dominated by English professors and the minor epiphanies they have while walking their dogs.”

Walking my dog this evening I came across a “growth” attached to the base of a 70-year-old oak tree. Its peach color made my golden retriever look dull in comparison (sorry, Jesse) and its hue intensified as blue evening descended. An example of the power of complementary colors, this was a minor epiphany to my non-professorial American eyes.

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Second Movie

Saturday, August 22nd, 2009

Among the roster of free music apps available for download to iPhone is a rudimentary matrix sequencer called “TonePad.”

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As described at http://www.tonepadapp.com/, this plaything is quite user friendly: “Create songs by simply touching the screen and seeing notes light up.” (This reminds me of what Stanley K. said about a different pleasure: “Having them colored lights going.”)  TonePad allows you to create a short (about 4-second) snippet of music that repeats hypnotically. You can then build upon it with new tones and rhythms, mimicking the accretive style of composers Steve Reich and Philip Glass.  After some practice, what’s you’ve mastered is a kind of dime-store minimalism, except you don’t need to cough up even ten cents.  Since I needed music for the soundtrack to my second iMovie, I decided to give TonePad a try.  The result, available on YouTube and Vimeo:

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