Lighting Candles: The Billboard Masterpiece

Venus Rising from the Sea

I'm quite excited to go see the big Titian exhibit at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts some time in the next few weeks. I mean we ought to occasionally take advantage of our membership, right? I do wish that I remembered more about Titian from my undergraduate art history course than is actually the case...but the fact that I can place him as an influential painter from the Italian Renaissance has to count for something, right?

As this is a significant event for the MIA, there are advertisements all over the Twin Cities. On billboards. On buses. In the newspaper. As web banners.

Everywhere you look...bare-naked ladies.

And though we are a relatively subdued and modest bunch of folks, here in the oh-so-Scandinavian, upper-Midwest, we're fine with all the boobies. Truly. We are. I mean, normally, we keep our bodies covered, but that mostly has to do with windchill. Pragmatism is a matter of necessity when you have the winters that we do.

You know what else winter gives you? A sense of humor. It's part of the mandatory seasonal survival kit...packed right in there with your mittens and long underwear.

So what happens when art and nude women and a pragmatic, yet humorous, Minnesotan collide? You get this:

That red bodice? Not painted by a guy from Venice.

For the Strib story on the billboard and the MIA's response, check out this link. Gotta love the museum's good nature about it all...especially since interaction with art is the whole point in the first place!

Wisconsin Historial Images

I am, as you well know, a Wisconsinite at heart. I was born and raised in Wisconsin. I did my undergraduate work at the University of Wisconsin. I came back to work in the UW System at UW-River Falls. I love my home state. And not just because of my Badger sports teams.

I love the Wisconsin Idea and Fightin' Bob. I brag about our system of public higher education. I think Spotted Cow should be the official state drink. And Star Prairie is a beautiful place that I am proud to call home.

I am the product of Wisconsin public schools...from kindergarten through college. I am the child of 2 public school teachers. I owe my faith in and love of higher education to my work experiences at places like UW-River Falls. I served on City Council for two years and did my best to make sound decisions on behalf of the people of the community in which I resided.

Without opening up a whole barrel of crazy-ass gubernatorial monkeys, I'm just going to say that my heart aches for the public workers of Wisconsin today. The legislation being proposed right now will have detrimental effects on the entire state...right now and for decades to come. I feel angry and devastated. Even though I am safely (for now) across the river.

So for tonight's post, I want to give a shout-out to one of my favorite parts of an important state agency: Wisconsin Historical Images at the Wisconsin Historical Society.

Though I'm hardly a history scholar, I do have an appreciation for the importance of understanding the past. Those aforementioned public school teachers who raised me? They were (and really, still are) history teachers. As I like to say, in our house, history is always part of the present.

Being the child of two history teachers meant that I had visited practically every location discussed in our 5th grade unit on the Revolutionary War. And that in high school, when I asked my dad if he could think of "a couple books" for my report on Thomas Jefferson, he set a stack of at least 10 on my desk and said, "Here's a little something to get you started!" (All procured from the bookshelf in the living room, mind you..."but there might be a couple more downstairs...")

So I love Wisconsin. And I love history. Guess what? There's a Facebook page for that!

Wisconsin Historical Images (WHI) uses their social media presence to convey the stories of our state through photos and other archived items. Sometimes they highlight famous Wisconsinites or specific locales. Other times, there are themes that dig into various series of photos (scouting, winter sports, bees...you name it!).

Through these images, we see Wisconsinites going about their daily lives. We see moments running from mundane to momentous. From boys sitting on benches to Bobby Kennedy at Lambeau. Sometimes we are looking at architecture or natural resources. Other times there are illustrations, signs and graphics. But every image tells us something about the history of our state and the people who live here. WHI even got in on all the Super Bowl madness with an awesome compilation of resources on the Green Bay Packers. Because that's an important part of Wisconsin too. :)

The images are informative, comedic, nostalgic, and thought-provoking, often all at the same time. We remember. We imagine. We long. We learn. The archive is amazing...and the Facebook page provides thoughtfully selected gems for our daily consumption.

You know what else I love about WHI? The guy who does all the social media posting is freaking hilarious. HI. LARIOUS. And he's smart-funny, not just funny-funny. God help me if he is some about-to-graduate grad student or an unpaid intern who will be leaving at the end of the summer, because I will weep rivers of tears if the WHI Facebook page changes its tone. No hyperbole here. I mean it.

You tweeters out there can follow them on the Twitters. Or friend them on Facebook. You'll get plenty of history and no small amount of humor, to boot. Your world will feel warmer and warmer...one historical snapshot at a time.

Lighting Candles: Battling Commodification

I spend a lot of time thinking about the ways in which higher education vacillates between being a public good and a private good. I think about the necessary and productive ways that market orientation has influenced our campuses. I also think about how we capitalize--often greedily--on capitalism in ways that do not maximize the benefits to our campuses.

These issues are ever more salient, given our current economic reality. And though we're all striving to stay financially solvent, it is important that we don't lose sight of our missions and values. And not just our individual institutional or department missions and values...but those often affiliated with higher education as a whole.

I tend to romanticize the role of higher education. I do it even though (and because) I work smack-dab in the midst of it...where there is often little romance. We are here to teach and learn. We are here to lead and grow. There is critical thinking. There is inspiration. It is a life-altering luxury. It is a personal renaissance. Yes, we are educating a workforce. Yes, we are the economic engines of many parts of our states. But there must always be more than that. Not every aspect of education can be commodified. Nor should it. And shame on us, when we lose sight of that truth.

As such, it is mind-numbing to me that a congressman in Iowa (from the party that often talks about the importance of government "staying out of the way" and claims to love America) has sponsored legislation that would force the University of Iowa sell Jackson Pollock's Mural...one of the most important works of American art.

It's "a stampede... [of] every animal in the American West, cows and horses and antelopes and buffaloes. Everything is charging across that goddamn surface."
—Jackson Pollock

The article provides an overview of the conflict, explains how the University of Iowa came to own such an important painting, and talks about the benefits to ourselves and our academic communities when we are routinely exposed to such treasures. It's a wonderful portrait of the breadth and depth of the important work we do in higher education.

As my pal Kristendom reminds us, a lot of thought goes into producing meaningful educational and co-curricular experiences for students. Let's not cheat future students of inexhaustible educational opportunities in order to capitalize on finite, short-term gains.

Buck the F@ck Up*

*(The post where I just scream at all of you about how you should choose to be happy, dammit.)

__________________________________________________

 
Today, I spent my entire afternoon fuming--I mean absolutely seething--about how negative and angry some people are.

(That statement would make even Alanis Morissette's head explode, dontcha think?)

I was so mad.

Like, so mad that I almost had to lay down on the floor of my office and kick my feet and roll around like a pissed-off three year old.

Sugar therapy in a teeny, tiny box.

Like, so mad that I consumed at least two three times my typical afternoon allotment of Nerds and Tootsie Rolls.

Like, so mad that in the last 7 hours, I've yelled at no fewer than 5 people about this. I tried to yell at another couple of you, but you didn't answer your phones when I called. Probably a wise move.

"WOW! What on earth could have happened to our normally staid and stoic friend?!"...I know that's what you're wondering. Without being unprofessional or mean or getting all bitchy/gossipy, it went something like this:

The networky/professional development activity that started out all super-fantastic and brimming-with-potential, ended with a venomous bitch-fest. I mean it was bad. Bad. It felt like the entire meeting got broadsided by a bus. Like all the productivity was completely obliterated. As I had been the one who volunteered to steer us back toward the sunny side of the street, should we get derailed, I tried to do a little of the "positivity is a choice" thing, but quickly got the "you're too new/young...just wait 15 years" vibe.

In all fairness, none of the folks actually said those words. But you know how you can just sense a particular energy? How you can just see the people thinking the thought? That's how it felt.

Gratuitously unrelated photo of the yummy T. Olyphant...

I know that these are seriously fantastic people. Especially in the professional sense. They are clearly high-achieving, driven, intelligent people who sincerely want to make a difference at their jobs. I've done actual work with a couple of them, and they are quality individuals. There is no part of me that doubts the validity of their acrimony. I'm sure their complaints are justified (just like all of Raylan Givens' shootings).

But...seriously...

...it was just SO. MUCH. IRE.

I think the part that really set me off was how (in my opinion) I got painted as a Pollyanna. I suppose much of that is my fault, because as we were going around introducing ourselves, I got the sense that my autobiography was going to come off as a little overly "Warmed the World." What, with all my "college as a personal renaissance" and "believing in the mission of our public institutions," crap. I am a hopeless romantic. I am a shameless idealist. I don't care. You'll never convince me to be otherwise.

Yet I cheated myself as I started my introduction. The woman who spoke before me conveyed a lot of frustration as she told her story. And I feel like there was a lot of non-verbal support for the story she was telling...lots of resonance with the other folks in the room. Which is fine...

...but I lost my juju. And right before I began my "I (heart) Land Grants" diatribe, I said "I suppose I'm going to sound like a Pollyanna, but..."

Sign me up!

I sank my own battleship. I rained on my own parade. I stole my own thunder. What's worse, I was entirely disingenuous in regard to one of my core values. Not only did I let myself get painted as something I am not, I was the one who laid down the base coat.


Esteemed poet Lucille Clifton offered us the following wisdom:

What they call you is one thing...

What you answer to is something else.

And how.

One of the things that pisses me off (to no end) about striving to be a positive person is the condescension that often reverberates back at my message. You're young and inexperienced. You'll be jaded too someday, just wait. You don't really understand. You've never faced challenges like this. You're naive. You're in denial. You're a Pollyanna.

Bullshit.

It's easy to complain. It's easy to be negative. It's easy to pick up the same old big bag of bile and haul it around with you every day, all the while pissing and moaning about how heavy the load is.

You know what's hard? Staring an awful situation in the face and not letting it beat you. You know what's hard? Embracing an optimistic world view when cynicism is en vogue. You know what's hard? Holding on to the happy high-ground while everyone around you insists that willful ignorance fuels your stance.

We all have bad days. We all need to vent. We all need supportive environments in which to express our frustrations and search for solutions to the barriers in our lives.

Absolutely.

And while I love a good bitch session as much as the next bitch, just because I won't wallow, doesn't mean I'm not down with what's happening.

I get it.

But I won't let it get me.

Made My Day: Sweet Vindication

You know the fight that you have over and over (and over) with your partner or spouse or significant other? The one that makes you both groan, "Augh! Are we really doing this again?!" That one? Often, it isn't even the content of the fight, it's more the tone of the fight. You know what I'm talking about, right? When you fight about how you're fighting? So meta.

Well, in our house, when we are fighting things are not quite perfectly harmonious (impossible as that is to imagine), the conflict occasionally centers around the assertion that I am too abrupt (impossible as that is to imagine). My better-half might say something like "Would it kill you to say, "That's not a bad idea, Jay...however, I believe that..."" And then I usually respond with the absolutely soothing and always deescalating, "Well, do you want me to be nice or do you want me to be honest?!"

Ahhhhh...joyful times, here in St. Paul.

I don't mean to be completely devoid of sensitivity...but sometimes I forget. That doesn't make me a complete ogre, though, right?

Confucius totally agrees with me. Let me explain:

Health, be damned!

Last Sunday, Jay and I went to lunch with some old pals. We meet up with  these folks twice a year...a  little reunion of sorts. We usually dine at a Chinese restaurant and gorge ourselves at the buffet while lingering for a couple hours of conversation and reminiscence...though the guy getting hauled off in the midst of a heart attack towards the end of our meal may have put the kibosh on future visits to this particular location.

But we'll see.

Anyway - these lunches are always a lot of fun and have become a lovely tradition. One of the little things that I enjoy most, however, is that they evoke one of the best humorous moments to ever happen at my expense. It's an absolute gem, and it goes like this:

Many years ago, a bunch of us (many of the same folks who were at the aforementioned reunion) were out for lunch at a Chinese buffet. When the bill was placed on the table, accompanied by a sizable mound of fortune cookies, I took it upon myself to start doling out the gratis desserts to each person at the table...you know...so everyone got one and we could get this show on the road! It seemed like a thoughtful and proactive thing to do, right? I was about half-way around the table, when a member of the party piped up and said "There goes Em, playing God with our fortunes!"

I froze. And started laughing (albeit, sheepishly). And obviously proceeded to let everyone else choose their own cookie. Sometimes we lead too much, don't we? :)

So this brings us back to last Sunday. When the fortune cookies were placed on the table, I joked with my friend about how I think of his comment every time I'm out for Chinese. We all laughed at this old, shared experience and started chatting about the meaning people often ascribe to these fortunes.

People get really fired up about fortune cookies (Orientalist and inauthentic to Chinese culture, as they are): using them to choose lottery numbers, adding "in bed" to the end, pinning them up on bulletin boards for further consideration. In fact, we have over a dozen on our fridge right now, including Jay's favorite: "Ignore previous cookie." They are a permanent fixture in a decidedly American, faux-mystical part of pop-culture.

You are wise, Emily Anne...

But just because these little desserts were actually invented in Japan and are commercially untenable in China, doesn't mean their wisdom isn't to be trusted, right?

Because the fortune I got last Sunday totally addressed the aforementioned "how sensitive does a girl really need to be in her marriage?" issue.

At the end of our lovely lunch, I opened my cookie, guffawed heartily, and passed it to Jay. He read it to himself and groaned loudly. The wisdom in the cookie?

Avoid agreeing with people merely to keep peace.

啊哈!

The Google Art Project

It's been a long week. A good week, but a long week. Instead of being all TGIFy, all I can think is, "Really. An entire additional day of work?!" Wasn't all the dissertating and event planning and boot camping enough? What about my rampant productivity and long hours earlier in the week?

More?

Still?!

That's what I'd really like to write about tonight.

But because this is some annoyingly happy-sappy blog about celebrating things that make the world a better place, I'm going to go a different route...even if it kills me...

So...

I just finished Steve Martin's new book An Object of Beauty. I loved it. I thought it was captivating ...totally got sucked right in. Apparently, way deep-down, I wish I was a striving, ruthless, slutty art dealer. Who knew?

Anyway--fantasy career aspirations aside--the day after I finished the book, there was all sorts of interweb chatter about Google's Art Project. Gosh, do I love confluence! There I was, all knee-deep in thoughts of paintings and museums, wishing I could jet off to New York or Paris and get lost in the various aesthetic treasures of our world, when voilà! Google saves the day!

Thanks to this new project (a result of their much-lauded 20% Time policy and just like the widely-used Street View tool), you can practically stroll through some of the most cherished museums and zoom right in to examine historic works of art. I sort of gasped and whispered "I'm actually there!" when I pulled up the link to The Met, earlier in the week. It instantly took me back to a few summers ago, when Jay and I spent an afternoon wandering, aimlessly and delightfully, through those same galleries.

While no computer imagery could ever take the place of the glorious sensory-overload that is lingering in the midst of real art, Google efforts are to be celebrated. The documentation of these works in their actual museum habitats gives e-viewers a sense of what they would experience in the real gallery. The way the light shines through the windows in The Hermitage...the bias-set parquet of The Met...it gives us a taste of the real experience. The proximity the project provides us to famous works of art gives unprecedented access to things many of us would never have the opportunity to see. Or it allows us to re-visit things we've seen and are longing to re-experience, if only over our reheated lunch of leftovers on a dreary work-filled Wednesday.

Will this inspire future artists, far-removed from the museum locales? Will it spur tourism? Will it pique curiosity and spark creativity? Will it revolutionize art history classrooms? Will it make a world that is sometimes perceived as erudite and exclusive more welcoming and comfortable?

I would imagine that the possibilities are infinite.

For a behind-the-scenes look at the project, check this out:



Also, since we're talking about art and museums and stuff, do any of you remember Don't Eat the Pictures: Sesame Street at the Metropolitan Museum of Art? One of my very favorite childhood bits of nostalgia! And, FWIW, this clip is only made better by the skipping and flipping and cutting out of the VHS tape from which it was likely copied!



And just one more "more-or-less" related thing...

One of the reasons I really wanted to read Steve Martin's newest book was because of how sublimely he responded to the whole 92nd St. Y debacle. I find it laughable that the Y's snoot-tastic, highbrow crowd really just wanted him to be a "wild and crazy guy!"

Thank goodness for the comic reprieve of Colbert! (I can't find the whole episode, so make your way through the clips. Real genius here, if you have the time.)

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