dog days

Dogday_Afternoon2.jpg
but I’m not looking for this kind of excitement

I know there have been few postings here lately, but there’s no particular reason other than the lethargy or discomfort of a warm and humid urban summer, what the Greeks and Romans, when they wanted to speak English, called the “dog days“. There was a best-seller some 200 years back, apparently considered extremely entertaining on a number of levels, called “Clavis Calendaria; or, A Compendious Analysis of the Calendar; Illustrated with Ecclesiastical, Historical and Classical Anecdotes”*. In it the author, the Englishman John Brady, described the ancient seasonal phenomenon as:

. . . an evil time when the seas boiled, wine turned sour, dogs grew mad, and all creatures became languid, causing to man burning fevers, hysterics, and phrensies.

In spite of such fearful obstacles, I really am going to try to do better soon. At the moment however, while it’s probably just coincidence, I actually seem to have come down with a cold, so I might finally almost have an excuse for not putting stuff up, even if I wasn’t asking for one. I just want to nap. Ach, there’s probably no one out there looking this way right now anyway.
Hey, tomorrow’s our 16th anniversary! I hope old Brady was wrong about the wine thing.

*
currently being offered by someone here on ebay for especially serious enthusiasts. This is a particularly timely move, because bidding is to stop one day after August 11: That is the traditional end of Dog Days, since that date (according to the Wikipedia entry) marks the ancient helical rising of Sirius, “the Dog Star”.

[image of Al Pacino/Sonny Wortzik in “Dog Day Afternoon” from lucidscreening]

Susan Dessel’s “OUR BACKYARD” censored by gallery

burma.bodies.jpg
this too is our backyard

In the twenty-first century the entire world really has become our “backyard” and along with its beauty and energy, there is also much unnecessary misery and death everywhere in that yard. Provincial fears and mindless censorship cannot reconstruct fences around the familiar, confined spaces which now open onto a much larger world, nor can they make the misery and death go away.
Susan Dessel’s sculpture, “OUR BACKYARD: A Cautionary Tale” has been censored by its current host, the Long Beach Island Foundation for Arts & Sciences [LBIF]. She had been invited to participate in its current Artist Residency and Retreat Exhibition, titled “ART CONCEIVED SINCE SEPTEMBER 11”. Support from the Foundation for Contemporary Arts (NYC) made Dessel’s participation in this exhibit possible. On the eve of the show’s May 3rd opening LBIF Interim Executive Director Chris Seiz told the artist that he had been advised by some LBIF members that they found the piece “offensive” and were considering ending their support of foundation. In the hours prior to the opening Dessel’s installation was walled off from the rest of the gallery. Visitors who now wish to see the concealed work must first step across signage warning that them that the piece may upset or offend.
The artist has released a statement:

“OUR BACKYARD: A Cautionary Tale” was an opportunity for me to re-imagine the world as I understand it: our shared backyard. Despite the expression of dispiriting conditions found in my work, underlying it is a robust sense of hope that it might encourage viewers to consider their own role in transforming the community – local and global – through their actions and inaction.

Dessel describes LIBF’s transformation of the piece as having turned the artist’s fundamental intention on its head, since it now represents our containment and continual isolation from the outside world.
This profoundly moving large-scale work was first seen at a show Barry and I curated at Williamsburg’s Dam, Stuhltrager Gallery in September, 2006. It was a site-specific installation which the artist described as a response to wide-spread images of violent death in many parts of the world. The work has been fundamentally altered with the decision to wall it in during the current show in New Jersey. Dessel sees the LIBF’s restriction of her expression as an artist as raising the new and separate issue of the role we permit art in our society generally.
It 2006 was installed in the “backyard” of the gallery in Brooklyn. There were no warnings posted, and it managed to attract more positive attention from visitors and press (both old and new media) than any other work in the group show.
The picture at the top of this entry was taken only a few days ago. It is not an image of a sculpture. Nor were any of the other horrific news images we have seen in our lifetimes from New Orleans, Jonestown, Haiti, and Cambodia, from Lebanon, Israel and Palestine, from Sarajevo, Darfur, Argentina, Sudan and Rwanda, and of course from Afghanistan and Iraq. Dessel’s “OUR BACKYARD” addresses our response to all of these tragedies and too many more, perhaps with the hope that if it helps us to engage in their reality with a shared humanity the world might do a little better going forward. I cannot begin to understand how people accustomed to viewing the horrors presented on what passes for ordinary entertainment on large and small screens today could possibly be upset or offended by twelve carefully-assembled shapes wrapped in sandbag tarp and lying on fresh sod.
I’d like to think we could do better, but the kind of censorship being exercised by a gallery in southern New Jersey this month is hardly unique even in the art world, and it’s certainly of a piece with the bowdlerization which has been standard media practice in this country for decades. It’s no wonder we continue to do so little to help prevent or ameliorate, and in fact contribute so much ourselves to creating, the catastrophes which litter our global backyard.
The Long Beach Island Foundation for Arts & Sciences is celebrating its sixtieth anniversary. I can’t know the motives behind its censorship of Susan Dessel’s art, but it’s unfortunate that so many of us will have first come to know the LBIF not for patronage of arts or science but for institutional behavior not worthy of an amateur craft club in Colorado Springs, and at this juncture that analogy may do a disservice to the city popularly considered the most radically “conservative” in the nation.
The images which appear below show Dessel’s installation before the curtained wall was in place, after it was installed, the sign at the entrance to the curtain baffle, and finally what it looked like inside the enclosure.

Susan_Dessel_LBIF_open_.jpg
Susan_Dessel_LBIF_curtained.jpg
Susan_Dessel_LBIF_signage.jpg
Susan_Dessel_LBIF_inside.jpg

[Burma image from European Pressphoto Agency via NYTimes; remaining images courtesy of the artist]

six years of the jimlog

six_99cents_store.jpg
(I have no idea why the 99� store across the street has a second sign reading 69�)

Today marks the anniversary of this blog, begun six years ago. I had conceived it as a modest but public means of expressing my dismay with the incredible folly of this country’s response to the events of September 11. It was to be a more structured form for the series of emails with which I had been plaguing my friends since that date. It would also be broadcast more widely – but also less intrusively, probably a good thing for my friendships.
As I sit here today I confess that six years ago, even in the extreme distress produced by the mindless, seemingly universal jingoism of the moment, I could not have imagined the horrors we have brought upon ourselves and the world in the years which were to follow.
Due at least to lack of interest, except among those entrenched in power, I don’t expect much will change after this November (I believe our republic is beyond restoration). So, for my own mental health and for the day-to-day survival of this blog, I’m grateful that I’m still crazy about a few other things that can be written about in public: The concerns of “the jimlog” will always include the arts, queerdom, history, New York and the world.
I observe another anniversary on April 27, one infinitely more important than the launch of this modest little outlet: I met Barry, my perfect partner and Wunderkind webmaster, seventeen years ago today.

back in the world

As Barry reported here on Sunday during a quick foray out of the affected area with his laptop, our larger neighborhood was without any internet connection all weekend. Our contact with the outside world was restored late on Monday, but circumstances conspired to prevent my return to blogging until today.
I found the experience fairly excruciating even though I don’t have a livelihood dependent upon the net. I didn’t have my little silver friend for three whole days; I had no little speakers podium or picture outlet, and no way to reach those published by anyone else; no incoming or outgoing mail; maybe most important for someone as curious and information-hungry as me, no instant reference sources; and of course no news. The news blackout in particular made it feel like the arrival of a new dark age, especially since neither radio nor television is a part of my own or Barry’s life. I will say however that living with only a blank screen this past weekend was not without a silver lining: We were spared the obscenity of the all-pope/all-the-time broadcast media coverage (Barry peeked every so often and it seems Ratzinger had bought NY1) with which entertainment news smothered the city, and apparently much of the nation as well.
Before starting anything new I’m going to be dutiful and finish up my series of short posts on art spotted at the New York fairs late last month; I’ll be looking back at Pulse, Volta, Bridge and Disarmory.

will resume play

pause.jpg

Yeah, this site’s been mighty quiet for over a week, and to me the pause button seems like it’s been pressed for twice that long.
Right after the art fairs I was first feeling pretty burned out, but I had begun to post entries describing some of the work I had liked most when I found myself distracted by things totally unrelated to the visual arts, including preparing a special dinner for friends early this week. The next day I came down with some general malady which developed into a full ague. It may suffice to say that my head swam, my skin ached, and I found it painful even to think of touching the keyboard with my fingertips.
I’m feeling much better today, even after seeing Caryl Churchill’s not-so-upbeat “Drunk Enough To Say I Love You” just two hours ago. Starting tonight or tomorrow I’ll resume where I left off on March 29th, with some more quick notes drawn from my camera. These will probably continue until I become bored doing the same series, or until I’m distracted by some new baubles.

[image from tiresias.org]

capitalists asking for trouble, or “the visible hand”

monopoly-man.jpeg
passing GO

We’re telling them, “we’re not going to regulate you, and we’re going to bail you out when you fuck up.”
I didn’t say it. It was Barry. It was just a few minutes ago. He was replying to my reading outline the Reuters headline, “Bear near announcing sale to JPMorgan: source”. Like many others who happened to be noticing what’s been going on, I had already been shocked to hear that my government had decided to throw a “financial rescue package”* at Bear Stearns, a quintessential capitalist firm which had failed at capitalism (slapped by “the invisible hand”?). This afternoon we learn that one of its rivals had decided that now Bear Sterns was an attractive investment.

NEW YORK/WASHINGTON (Reuters) – JPMorgan Chase & Co (JPM.N) is close to rescuing the fifth-largest U.S. investment bank, Bear Stearns Cos Inc (BSC.N), a person familiar with the matter said on Sunday, in a deal that could be announced in the next few hours.

Of course none of these people went to jail, but none of them even lost their jobs and none of them lost their ginormous bonuses.
But it’s looking like the country’s about to lose its shirt. I know these lines are a gross simplification of the economics drama being played in the headlines (and conducted behind our backs), but Gretchen Morgenson’s piece in the NYTimes today both explains it in super-lay-person terms and suggests the horror of its potential (likely?) consequences. Here’s just a peek:

HERE is the bind the Fed is in: Like the boy who puts his finger in the dike to keep sea water from pouring in, the Fed finds that new leaks keep emerging.
Regulators must do whatever they can to keep the markets open and operating, and much of that relies upon the confidence of investors. But by offering to backstop firms like Bear, who were the very architects of their own — and the market’s — current problems, overseers like the Fed undermine a little bit more of that confidence.
Another worry? How many well-capitalized institutions remain at the ready to take over those firms that may encounter turbulence in the future? Banks just do not have the capital that is needed to rescue troubled firms.
That will leave the taxpayer, alas. As usual.

And this excerpt doesn’t even address the consequences of foreign investors losing confidence in our capital markets and our government’s ability to keep things together.
Hold on; we’re in for a very rough ride.

*
“The size and terms of the credit line were not disclosed. JPMorgan will borrow the money from the Fed and lend it to Bear Stearns, and the Fed will ultimately bear the risk of the loan.” [quoted from an earlier NYTimes article, “Run on Big Wall St. Bank Spurs Rescue Backed by U.S.”]

[image from Hasbro]

hooker just a cover; Bush and bankers crushed Spitzer

foreclosed_farm_Great_Depression.jpg
farm foreclosure sale during the Great Depression

My obsession* with this story welcomes further ratiocination: Greg Palast makes some connections which Wall Street, the White House and their joint instrument, a discretionary Justice Department, would prefer to to keep hidden from the rest of us. See the argument in his piece titled “Eliot’s Mess: The $200 billion bail-out for predator banks and Spitzer charges are intimately linked”

*
broadcast in two earlier posts, beginning about one week ago, here and here [uncredited {Walker Evans or Dorothea Lange?} image from annette on picasaweb]

a beautiful woman

stanley-ann-dunahm.jpg
Stanley Ann Dunham’s 1960 high school graduation picture

Don’t miss this beautiful article about a very beautiful woman. I cried from beginning to end.

She had high expectations for her children. In Indonesia, she would wake her son at 4 a.m. for correspondence courses in English before school; she brought home recordings of Mahalia Jackson, speeches by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. And when Mr. Obama asked to stay in Hawaii for high school rather than return to Asia, she accepted living apart — a decision her daughter says was one of the hardest in Ms. Soetoro’s life.

The NYTimes writer is Janny Scott.

[image from KansasPrairie]

play in your own yards, and leave Spitzer alone

Hogarth_enthusiasm_delineated.jpg
William Hogarth Enthusiasm Delineated 1761

This is stupid, if not just evil. No, I’m not talking about Eliot Spitzer. Let him deal with his family; it’s not our concern. People are screaming at the Governor about his marital infidelity and announcing or calling for the end of his career. Meanwhile, George Bush’s murder count in Iraq, already in the hundreds of thousands, continues to mount and no one will pull the plug or talk about impeachment.
I simply don’t care what kind of sex the people I vote for engage in, just as I insist that they not care about my own – or yours either. Murder and other high crimes I care about.

[image from payer.de via fortunecity]