Old Friends

Went last night to two art openings at Webster University. To be honest, I went to one, and then discovered that a second was also going on.

Martin Schweig has a retrospective show chronicling his long love affair with photography. Martin ran a photo studio and gallery since the 1950s. It was one of the few galleries in St. Louis at one time, and the only one at some point that focused (a pun) on photography. I showed there, along with many who were at the opening. So it became a kind of reunion, since many of us had a common heritage.

Martin not only loves photography, but loves traveling and animals. All this comes through in his well-seen and beautifully crafted images. He is not a modernist. His work is a tribute to many photographers, and to a medium that has now been changing because of both new technologies, theoretical constructs, and painters who leaped on the bandwagon. And we see in his photographs his tremendous enthusiasm for the world, from the animal kingdom to delightful images from many parts of the globe.

In the good old days Art (I'm capitalizing Art as some capitalize G_d) photography was just an ugly stepchild and no one sold photographs and if they did, it was for nothing. You did photography because you cared about it, and you didn't care what it would give back to you in terms of fame and fortune. Photographers stuck together because they understood each other, and they trusted each other, and they spoke the same language. Martin did make a livelyhood as a portrait photographer, and he was one of the best. But the majority of the exhibition is the other kind of photography. The kind that you'd do for one reason: that you are addicted to a well-crafted photographic image.

Before I leave Martin and the opening/reunion, I wanted to speak about old friends...childhood friends. With some, the connection is as strong as it ever was, and with others, well, life goes on and we change. The hard part is when it changes for one party and not for the other.

I dreamt last night about one old friend from college who was a great inspiration because of his thirst for learning. His Achilles heel was that he was a sociopath and ended up, after getting a PhD in computer science, in prison. I do web searches for him occasionally, and can't find him (especially hard because he has a common name). Maybe he'll contact me some day like he did in my dream.

In the dream he had popped up in my life, and I was very glad to see him. He looked great and appeared to be on the straight and narrow. I wanted to take him to Chicago so he could see a friend there that was also very close to him.

The second exhibit in the art building was the work of four French artists.

I grew up in art believing that almost all good contemporary Art is done in America, and have since learned how stupid is that perception. Still, I continue to be a little surprised when I see well-conceived and executed (and inspiring) work from other countries.

My travels to Italy, and somewhat to England, suggested that there is a lot more honor given to the past (and to religion) than to contemporary art and thought. It is refreshing to see artists, such as in the Webster show, who are willing to snub their noses a little on their traditional icons and artists.

Art Openings

"In the room the women come and go,
Talking of Michelangelo." (T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock)

Imagining that the world exists on a small coffee table in the middle of a room, I was wondering the other day about where I hang out.

Someone accused me of experiencing life vicariously. As a youth, I identified with Colin Wilson's Outsider, who "cannot live in the comfortable insulated world of the bourgeois, accepting what he sees and touches as reality." Perhaps because I felt socially awkward, I slung a camera around my neck and watched people like a fly on the wall. I secretly envied those who were part of life, able to lose themselves in the ambiance of the moment.

Art itself is a vicarious experience (with Jackson Pollack as an exception). In college a therapist told me that I used photography to avoid the intimacy of life (my words). I laughed but realize forty years later that he had a good point.

I suspect that mindfullness (in Buddhism, the practice of being here) really refers to both time and space. Have I ever been anywhere where I've supposed to be? Someone asked me yesterday how I can stand to be in a 4 hours meeting about I subject I have no interest. Maybe I do that by being somewhere else.

I never felt that I had a real job until now. Teaching others how to look on and analyze, rather than be, seemed like play.

I shed the camera a few years ago with the idea that I would go the middle of the room and lose myself in the moment. Yet, I'm still at the edge, even with the idea that I'm watching myself being on the edge. I'm aware of my awareness, and sometimes overwhelmed by it.

I remember a review in the NY Review of Books where the reviewer claimed that the book failed because she (as the reader) got engrossed in the story. What greater pleasure could there be? Is this a failure or success for the author?

I wanted to write this about art openings. I have, in a sense. Last night I was at the edge of an opening, looking on. It wasn't my opening anymore. I am leaving the institution and no longer feel part of the department that hosted the event. And there were lots of young kids. I sometimes feel with young kids that I've been away a long time from Earth and now my spaceship has returned and lots of changes have occurred.

I can't get over how smooth everyone's skin looks when they are young.

What shall we do tomorrow? What shall we ever do?

Flipping a coin is not as rational as playing Stephen Covey's game of creating a personal mission and selecting a choice that will best fulfill that mission. This process seems logical enough, but also might lead to great unhappiness. We could end up living our lives "in quiet desperation" instead of ecstatic happiness and fulfillment. We might marry for money instead of love.

One of my favorite artists, David McManaway, started out making paintings (he believed this is what "artists" should be doing). When he was bored with paintings he would start combining found objects at the side of his studio. Soon he found that all he wanted to do was his "jomos" (as he called them). Now, 50+ years later, he's had a productive and creative life (and I suspect, he rarely has been bored). And he still doesn't do any paintings.

One reason we may pick the wrong choice is because we are attached to the people and places that we know. One of my sisters told me of an article she read about how we need to grieve when we choose the "road not taken." Yes, it is sad to change or leave, and that loss does not magically go away when you turn our backs on where we were (and loved) and what we've done. Sometimes we just need to embrace our past and kiss it goodbye.

End-of-Course Tests in High School

I'm curious to what degree (in practice) the score on these tests (see article below) will be the final grade. Given enough time, the government will completely control every aspect of education.

1) They take the citizens' money.

2) They pass laws for mandatory education.

3) They pass laws on how that education will occur.

4) Then they progressively tax those who do well in their education (assuming those people will have higher lifetime earnings).

5) And they wonder why Johnny can't read.

Would we have any greater illiteracy if education was not mandatory?

Kim

Vol. 41, No. 11
February 20, 2007
State Board of Education Approves
End-of-Course Tests in High School

The State Board of Education has given the green light to replacing the current MAP tests for high school students with a slate of “end-of-course” exams that will be required in all public schools starting in 2008-09.

During its meeting in Jefferson City last week (Feb. 16), the board approved a recommendation by Commissioner of Education D. Kent King to move forward with replacing the current Missouri Assessment Program (MAP) tests which have been mandatory for high school students (grades 10 and 11) for nearly a decade.

While many details remain to be worked out, the board’s action gives the Department of Elementary and Secondary Education the go-ahead to develop statewide “final exams” for algebra I, English II and biology.

State education officials also hope to create end-of-course exams for other classes such as government and American history, geometry, English I, physical science and chemistry. Exams for these subjects will not be available until 2010, at the earliest.

“We have been talking about possible changes in our high school testing program for more than two years, and it is time to move ahead. This plan offers positive changes for students, teachers, parents and schools,” said Stan Johnson, assistant commissioner of the Department of Elementary and Secondary Education.

The State Board of Education previously considered, but ultimately rejected, a proposal to adopt a college-entry exam, such as the ACT, as a requirement for all high school students.

The most frequent criticism of the MAP tests in high school is that they have no consequences for students, Johnson said.

“We believe that end-of-course exams will be more relevant and meaningful for students. Schools will receive the results from these exams quickly, and teachers will be able to use the scores in determining students’ final grades. This will make a difference in how most students approach the tests,” he said.

Good Day, Bad Day

Two days ago (President's day...no work) was a "blessed" day. I finished up a variety of tasks and cleaned my desk. The sun shined brightly and melted the snow. I pulled out of the hardware store, went through a yellow light turning red, saw a cop behind me, noticed it was dark and didn't have my lights on, and then saw the cop pass by me for a bigger fish.

Yesterday (a work day) was one of those three strikes days. People disagreed with my decisions, didn't respond to complaints, and gave wrong directions to others. And I had to listen to way too many complaints.

So what is it that makes two days seem so different? Is someone deciding what is going to happen? Is it me?

Advice: Don't Blog

My best friend told me I shouldn't blog because my thoughts are ridiculous (my word, not hers).

Luckily I learned from a teacher in college, "listen to everyone and believe no one."

I do like to challenge any existing belief, including hers. I'd rather discover that I was wrong after exploring the opposite viewpoint than blindly accept a commonly accepted belief.

An example: she mops the floor in her studio so often that all the tiles are popping up. I wanted to get some liquid nail and glue those suckers down, even if they are brittle and curled at the edges.

Finally I went last night to the hardware store for a second opinion. Steve, who is a manager there and knows everything, said that I need to give up the idea. To remove the liquid nail will entail destroying the sub floor, and the tiles will never straighten out.

So what was to become a very elegant solution will now become another expensive solution: a new floor.

At least this ridiculous idea was squelched in time!

Picasso at the Lapin Agile

Last night saw Picasso at the Lapin Agile at St. Louis CC - FV. It was a great set by Marie McCool, and a wonderful production, directed by Chris Stephens, by a combination of seasoned and new actors/resses.

I have a lot of axes to grind with Picasso from the time I started to learn about painting, but I still see him as one of my gods. It hurts me that he is projected as such a womanizer and egotist. (When I mentioned this to my wife she was unsympathetic, saying that he was all that.) I didn't have as much problem with Einstein, another hero, though I would have like to learn a little more about him in the play.

This all follows a series of depictions that gnaws at my sensibilities: Jackson Pollack, Diego Rivera, Frieda, and on and on. These individuals made enormous contributions to civilization and to be only represented by their frailties is hurtful. Would we do this to Jesus? Does it help or hurt the public's view of modern art?

I don't know.