Eleanor Arnason's Blog, page 53
September 9, 2012
Art Patronage
This is a series of posts from facebook, made after learning that Penunbra -- the wonderful African American theater company in St. Paul -- has cancelled its next season.
Maybe we will go back to this. The Koch Brothers will have their own personal orchestras and ballet companies, and the rest of us will have to make do with popular music and dance. This would not be an entire loss. Much great art is made by poor people for poor people.
But I love opera, and I would prefer to keep all the many local opera companies we have the US.
I figure this is a result of our long recession/depression and the pressure on the American middle class. Culture in this country is not just dependent on foundations and the rich, it also depends on ordinary people who buy tickets and memberships and make year-end donations. If times are hard, people will not buy tickets or make donations. In addition, high tax rates encourage the rich to make big contributions, since this reduces their tax bill. When you cut tax rates and shift the nation's money to the rich, you destroy culture.I then got challenged by other people in the thread and added the following:
What I'm arguing is that arts funding from the rich tends (in the US) to be strongly encouraged by tax deductions. I remember my father telling me in the 1950s that the US government's support for the arts was stronger than that of other countries, which supported the arts directly; but it was done through the deduction for charitable giving. I suspect he had a pretty good idea of donations to the arts at the time. He was the director of the Walker Art Center.You can support some kinds of art through rich patrons. Look at Louis XIV. Though Versailles was government spending, and it was done for propaganda purposes. A better example might be Prince Esterhazy in the 18th century. He maintained his own private orchestra, with Franz Josef Haydn as the conductor and composer. When Haydn was finally able to get away, after 30 years, he went to London where he was hugely popular and earned money through ticket sales.
I've been the financial manager for a number of small nonprofits, including at least one arts nonprofit. The income is a mixture of grants, large donations from wealthy people, small donations and memberships. Losing any one of these is tough.
Maybe we will go back to this. The Koch Brothers will have their own personal orchestras and ballet companies, and the rest of us will have to make do with popular music and dance. This would not be an entire loss. Much great art is made by poor people for poor people.
But I love opera, and I would prefer to keep all the many local opera companies we have the US.
September 4, 2012
More About Worldcon
A couple of panels got me thinking. I was on one, the one that drifted off topic. It was on alternative histories. I suddenly realized the obvious connection between alternative histories and time travel stories; and I also realized -- having just read over all my Big Mama stories, most of which involve time travel -- that I don't believe history is chaotic the way weather is. I may well be wrong. But my belief that history has tendencies, which are not easily changed, underlies my fiction. That was good to know.
The panel refused to discuss why alternative history is so popular, which bothered me. I am interested in that question. Apparently no one else was. I got Jo Walton to talk about why she wrote the Small Change trilogy, and I talked about why I wrote "Mammoths of the Great Plains." The audience was obviously uninterested. They wanted to talk about what would have happened if Eli Whitney had not invented the cotton gin.
The other panel that got me thinking was on the relationship between SF and "mainstream" or "literary" fiction. This is a topic that gets me fired up. (See posts below.) And I'm not entirely sure why. So I keep thinking about it.
The panel refused to discuss why alternative history is so popular, which bothered me. I am interested in that question. Apparently no one else was. I got Jo Walton to talk about why she wrote the Small Change trilogy, and I talked about why I wrote "Mammoths of the Great Plains." The audience was obviously uninterested. They wanted to talk about what would have happened if Eli Whitney had not invented the cotton gin.
The other panel that got me thinking was on the relationship between SF and "mainstream" or "literary" fiction. This is a topic that gets me fired up. (See posts below.) And I'm not entirely sure why. So I keep thinking about it.
Worldcon Report
I had four panels at the convention. My usual rule about panels is one of threes: a third will be good; a third will be okay; and a third will be not so hot. I had four, and three went comparatively well, beating the rule. One drifted off topic.
One of the reasons for going was to visit downtown Chicago, which Patrick and I like a lot. We went to the Chicago Architectural Foundation shop, which is wonderful, and to the Carson Pirie & Scott building by Louis Sullivan and to the Marshall Fields building by Daniel Burnham. The Sullivan building is amazing, especially the architectural detail around the entrance. I thought someone should have told Louis to lay off the LSD. The foliage writhes and twists so much! Marshall Fields is impressive. There is an atrium that goes all the way to the roof, topped by a skylight, and a shorter atrium that ends with the world's largest barrel vault by Louis Tiffany. The world's largest barrel vault by Tiffany is something to see.
The biggest disappointment was the Chicago Art Institute. The lines outside were so long that we decided to skip it. We have visited it before, and will go again.
Other than that, I went to no parties at the con. As I have aged, I've found the noise and the crowding more and more difficult. However, I met some new people whom I liked in quiet places, where it was possible to converse. I saw some established friends. I had a terrific conversation with an astronomer about why (most likely) Venus does not have a magnetic field and why this might matter. Plus, I got her email address.
Our hotel room had a view down 18 floors to the Chicago River and the tour boats going back and forth.
The drive down was pleasant, though the green hills of Wisconsin go on forever. The drive back was smooth, and we made good time, but we were tired.
One of the reasons for going was to visit downtown Chicago, which Patrick and I like a lot. We went to the Chicago Architectural Foundation shop, which is wonderful, and to the Carson Pirie & Scott building by Louis Sullivan and to the Marshall Fields building by Daniel Burnham. The Sullivan building is amazing, especially the architectural detail around the entrance. I thought someone should have told Louis to lay off the LSD. The foliage writhes and twists so much! Marshall Fields is impressive. There is an atrium that goes all the way to the roof, topped by a skylight, and a shorter atrium that ends with the world's largest barrel vault by Louis Tiffany. The world's largest barrel vault by Tiffany is something to see.
The biggest disappointment was the Chicago Art Institute. The lines outside were so long that we decided to skip it. We have visited it before, and will go again.
Other than that, I went to no parties at the con. As I have aged, I've found the noise and the crowding more and more difficult. However, I met some new people whom I liked in quiet places, where it was possible to converse. I saw some established friends. I had a terrific conversation with an astronomer about why (most likely) Venus does not have a magnetic field and why this might matter. Plus, I got her email address.
Our hotel room had a view down 18 floors to the Chicago River and the tour boats going back and forth.
The drive down was pleasant, though the green hills of Wisconsin go on forever. The drive back was smooth, and we made good time, but we were tired.
Worldcon
Lyda Morehouse has written about feeling a fraud at cons, especially big, out-of-state cons, even though she has published 13 novels, all but one with big New York publishing houses. The people around her at the con are so much more famous.
I have a similar experience, though I don't feel a fraud -- I am authentically myself -- I feel a failure. Lyda parties all the harder when she feels low. I curl up in a ball in my hotel room.
So I went to Worldcon and did my four panels. Three went pretty well. One drifted off topic. No one -- including the audience -- cared.
Patrick and I went to the Chicago Architectural Foundation shop, which is wonderful, and to the Carson Pirie & Scott building by Louis Sullivan and to the Marshall Fields building by Daniel Burnham. The Sullivan building is amazing, especially the architectural detail around the entrance. I thought someone should have told Louis to lay off the LSD. The foliage writhes and twists so much! Marshall Fields is impressive. There is an atrium that goes all the way to the roof, topped by a skylight, and a shorter atrium that ends with the world's largest barrel vault by Louis Tiffany. The world's largest barrel vault by Tiffany is something to see.
The biggest disappointment was the Chicago Art Institute. The lines outside were so long that we decided to skip it. We have visited it before, and will go again.
Other than that, I went to no parties at the con. I don't like the noise and crowding. I met some new people whom I liked. I saw some established friends. I had a terrific conversation with an astronomer about why (most likely) Venus does not have a magnetic field and why this might matter. Plus, I got her email address.
Our hotel room had a view down 18 floors to the Chicago River and the tour boats going back and forth.
The drive down was pleasant, though the green hills of Wisconsin go on forever. The drive back was smooth, and we made good time, but we were tired.
I have a similar experience, though I don't feel a fraud -- I am authentically myself -- I feel a failure. Lyda parties all the harder when she feels low. I curl up in a ball in my hotel room.
So I went to Worldcon and did my four panels. Three went pretty well. One drifted off topic. No one -- including the audience -- cared.
Patrick and I went to the Chicago Architectural Foundation shop, which is wonderful, and to the Carson Pirie & Scott building by Louis Sullivan and to the Marshall Fields building by Daniel Burnham. The Sullivan building is amazing, especially the architectural detail around the entrance. I thought someone should have told Louis to lay off the LSD. The foliage writhes and twists so much! Marshall Fields is impressive. There is an atrium that goes all the way to the roof, topped by a skylight, and a shorter atrium that ends with the world's largest barrel vault by Louis Tiffany. The world's largest barrel vault by Tiffany is something to see.
The biggest disappointment was the Chicago Art Institute. The lines outside were so long that we decided to skip it. We have visited it before, and will go again.
Other than that, I went to no parties at the con. I don't like the noise and crowding. I met some new people whom I liked. I saw some established friends. I had a terrific conversation with an astronomer about why (most likely) Venus does not have a magnetic field and why this might matter. Plus, I got her email address.
Our hotel room had a view down 18 floors to the Chicago River and the tour boats going back and forth.
The drive down was pleasant, though the green hills of Wisconsin go on forever. The drive back was smooth, and we made good time, but we were tired.
Comments on the Art Post
I got a couple of comments on my previous Art post, and I think I need to reply.
My attitudes toward science fiction and the mainstream are very much shaped by growing up in a middle class household in the Midwest in the 1950s. My parents were not typical, I think it would be fair to say. Their loyalty was to avant garde art and progressive politics. I grew up surrounded by Abstract Expressionist art and High Modernist books.
My hostility is not to High Modernism or the visual arts of the first half of the 20th century. I love the art. I am less interested in the literature, but I figure that is my fault, not the fault of the books.
However, like many middle class people in the Midwest, my parents subscribed to The New Yorker, the Sunday New York Times and the London Times Literary Supplement. This is the culture I did not like.
It was centered in New York and in the educated upper middle class; and it focused on the social and psychological problems of the East Coast educated upper middle class.
I had no trouble with the Beats or with the poetry that Robert Bly was publishing in his magazine variously named The Fifties, The Sixties and The Seventies. (Bly, with all his later quirks and failings, did wonderful work as an editor; and he loathed mid-20th century, academic, American poetry.) When I talk about literary fiction, I am talking about a narrow band within literature that was important in my youth.
Built into my attitudes is a lot of prejudice, which I can't justify and which I need to think about.
So I am not saying that I'm right. I am simply describing my opinions at the moment. I think they need to change. And it's by writing, and then having people comment on my posts that I begin to see what's wrong with my opinions.
As far as literature by immigrants about immigrant culture go, I suspect Foxessa is right, and this work is very interesting. I also have no personal problem with the large amounts of fantastic literature that has come from Europe and Latin America and (no doubt) elsewhere. I am basically talking about literary culture of white, middle class New York in the second half of the 20th century.
The passage I wrote on Hollywood and SF is a tangent and not based on enough information. I would delete it, but I don't delete when what I have written has produced a comment.
My attitudes toward science fiction and the mainstream are very much shaped by growing up in a middle class household in the Midwest in the 1950s. My parents were not typical, I think it would be fair to say. Their loyalty was to avant garde art and progressive politics. I grew up surrounded by Abstract Expressionist art and High Modernist books.
My hostility is not to High Modernism or the visual arts of the first half of the 20th century. I love the art. I am less interested in the literature, but I figure that is my fault, not the fault of the books.
However, like many middle class people in the Midwest, my parents subscribed to The New Yorker, the Sunday New York Times and the London Times Literary Supplement. This is the culture I did not like.
It was centered in New York and in the educated upper middle class; and it focused on the social and psychological problems of the East Coast educated upper middle class.
I had no trouble with the Beats or with the poetry that Robert Bly was publishing in his magazine variously named The Fifties, The Sixties and The Seventies. (Bly, with all his later quirks and failings, did wonderful work as an editor; and he loathed mid-20th century, academic, American poetry.) When I talk about literary fiction, I am talking about a narrow band within literature that was important in my youth.
Built into my attitudes is a lot of prejudice, which I can't justify and which I need to think about.
So I am not saying that I'm right. I am simply describing my opinions at the moment. I think they need to change. And it's by writing, and then having people comment on my posts that I begin to see what's wrong with my opinions.
As far as literature by immigrants about immigrant culture go, I suspect Foxessa is right, and this work is very interesting. I also have no personal problem with the large amounts of fantastic literature that has come from Europe and Latin America and (no doubt) elsewhere. I am basically talking about literary culture of white, middle class New York in the second half of the 20th century.
The passage I wrote on Hollywood and SF is a tangent and not based on enough information. I would delete it, but I don't delete when what I have written has produced a comment.
August 27, 2012
Art
I wrote the following on facebook:
Artists will always borrow from each other, regardless of culture. But I do get irritated when Hollywood uses images and ideas from SF without understanding that science does matter; and one of the rules of SF is -- you are not supposed to be obviously ignorent of science. You can bend science, extend it, even ignore it by allowing faster than light travel, for example -- but you should not look like an ignorent fool.
(This is not a problem with the current Marvel comics movies, because superhero comics have their own rules, and Marvel is controlling the movies. Captain America may not be true to science, but it is true to Marvel; and the key thing about Marvel, per my friend Lyda, its commitment to justice, is in the movies.)
American science fiction has its own history and its own values, which are different from the value of 'high culture' and 'literary fiction.' Science fiction is about the relationship of science and society, which is a different subject than that of most literary fiction; and -- like much of the kid art of the 1950s -- it is often subversive. The McCarthy era witch hunters made sure that anyone writing fiction for adults would pay, if he or she was openly critical of America. Science fiction writers could claim that their fiction was not about reality. Comics -- the superheroes, Mad Magazine and EC -- were obviously unrealistic. In spite of this, EC got driven out of business. Still, if what you did was clearly intended for kids and was obviously short on artistic qualities, you had a better chance of surviving and saying what you wanted to say. Of course, you were going to be poor, because low-class art did not (mostly) pay.
My impression, and I may be wrong, is that literary fiction, what was left of it after the witch hunters were done, was all too often written by people who were co-opted or beaten down.
I am not happy about the boundary between SF and literary fiction vanishing. I picked SF as a kid some five or six decades ago, because educated people -- and people in authority -- did not like it. It was like comic books and rock music, destroying the minds of our American youth. Now we have Republicans liking Bruce Springsteen and Rage Against the Machine... And Banksy's art ends in museums, even when he doesn't put it there. The ability of the system to co-opt is amazing and discouraging.The guy I was communicating with wrote the following in response:
All art has content, and the content reflects the lives of different individuals and groups of people. The visual arts of Europe -- at least the arts we study -- are mostly a celebration of kings, nobles and the upper clergy. The stuff is still amazingly lovely, but you cannot understand art history unless you pay attention to the patrons and the message they wanted sent. Comics, SF and rock were originally aimed at poor people, working people and kids, and expressed their lives. All have changed over time, and I guess I have to come to terms with this. But I do not like seeing my genre's tropes in the hands of the upper middle class.
How snobbish and insular and ghetto of you, then. Bigotry is sad.It is always guys who blow up like this on facebook.
Artists will always borrow from each other, regardless of culture. But I do get irritated when Hollywood uses images and ideas from SF without understanding that science does matter; and one of the rules of SF is -- you are not supposed to be obviously ignorent of science. You can bend science, extend it, even ignore it by allowing faster than light travel, for example -- but you should not look like an ignorent fool.
(This is not a problem with the current Marvel comics movies, because superhero comics have their own rules, and Marvel is controlling the movies. Captain America may not be true to science, but it is true to Marvel; and the key thing about Marvel, per my friend Lyda, its commitment to justice, is in the movies.)
American science fiction has its own history and its own values, which are different from the value of 'high culture' and 'literary fiction.' Science fiction is about the relationship of science and society, which is a different subject than that of most literary fiction; and -- like much of the kid art of the 1950s -- it is often subversive. The McCarthy era witch hunters made sure that anyone writing fiction for adults would pay, if he or she was openly critical of America. Science fiction writers could claim that their fiction was not about reality. Comics -- the superheroes, Mad Magazine and EC -- were obviously unrealistic. In spite of this, EC got driven out of business. Still, if what you did was clearly intended for kids and was obviously short on artistic qualities, you had a better chance of surviving and saying what you wanted to say. Of course, you were going to be poor, because low-class art did not (mostly) pay.
My impression, and I may be wrong, is that literary fiction, what was left of it after the witch hunters were done, was all too often written by people who were co-opted or beaten down.
August 24, 2012
Poverty in the Streets
This is from a comment by Foxessa:
Talking about Louis XVI, as I just was, leads me to remember the famous line about the Bourbons, who were the royal family in Spain and France: the Bourbons learned nothing and forgot nothing. If it worked in the seventeenth century, it will work now.
This is what the leaders of the Free World seem to believe: actions do not have consequences, and what worked in the past will work now.
No.
The number of homeless, begging, hungry, mentally disturbed on the Manhattan streets has leaped hugely this summer. Mayor Bloomberg closed a whole bunch of shelters and meal providers this year as a budget reduction meansure. Then he wondered why there were so many beggars on the streets that weren't there before.The inability of our political elite to understand cause and effect is amazing. Actions do have consequences, though the sainted Ron Reagan argued otherwise.
Talking about Louis XVI, as I just was, leads me to remember the famous line about the Bourbons, who were the royal family in Spain and France: the Bourbons learned nothing and forgot nothing. If it worked in the seventeenth century, it will work now.
This is what the leaders of the Free World seem to believe: actions do not have consequences, and what worked in the past will work now.
No.
Republicans
Kevin Drum on the Republicans: "Mostly they've been busily passing photo ID laws, immigration restrictions, and an enormous raft of new abortion hurdles. Actions speak louder than words, and over the past 18 months the new wave of tea-party Republicans has very clearly shown us what they really care about."
This makes perfect sense. The Republican base is white men of European descent. They do relatively poorly with nonwhites and women. (How poorly can be seen by a recent poll of African Americans: 94% were for Obama, 6% were undecided and 0% were for Romney.) So the Republicans need to find a way to weaken the political power of minorities and women. And that's what they are doing.
Some of their base may find it works against them over time. Emma Goldman said lack of birth control trapped working men. With six kids to feed, they were afraid to join a union and go out on strike.
But the Republican base is anti-union, so I guess they won't mind having lousy jobs and no power -- though they will have power over their wives and daughters, and they will be doing better than nonwhites, no matter how badly they are doing.
This makes perfect sense. The Republican base is white men of European descent. They do relatively poorly with nonwhites and women. (How poorly can be seen by a recent poll of African Americans: 94% were for Obama, 6% were undecided and 0% were for Romney.) So the Republicans need to find a way to weaken the political power of minorities and women. And that's what they are doing.
Some of their base may find it works against them over time. Emma Goldman said lack of birth control trapped working men. With six kids to feed, they were afraid to join a union and go out on strike.
But the Republican base is anti-union, so I guess they won't mind having lousy jobs and no power -- though they will have power over their wives and daughters, and they will be doing better than nonwhites, no matter how badly they are doing.
The Current Campaign
This current election looks like a choice between Louis the Sixteenth and Tzar Nicholas II. I'm going to vote for Louis. Anything is better than a tzar. But still...
In spite of what I just wrote about the election, I am disturbed that the polling is so close, since the tzarists are obviously insane. The French royalists may be conservative, but they are not insane, and their food is much better.
In spite of what I just wrote about the election, I am disturbed that the polling is so close, since the tzarists are obviously insane. The French royalists may be conservative, but they are not insane, and their food is much better.
August 18, 2012
Closing Down
I had an appointment in Minneapolis on Tuesday. Patrick took me over, and I came back via bus. This meant I was in downtown Minneapolis, which is crowded and busy, full of people and shops and restaurants -- at least in comparison with downtown St. Paul, which is famously empty.
Changing buses, I went past the Godiva shop in the IDS building. Or rather, I went into the shop and bought some chocolate mint truffle bars. The shop guy told me they were closing down in a week or so, and there would be no Godiva shops in downtown Minneapolis. So I bought more chocolate mint truffle bars.
This reminded me that the Nieman Marcus in downtown Minneapolis was closing, so I went there to see if there were any deals. There weren't. The store is not closing till year-end.
The Bloomingdale's at the Mall of America, which has been there since the Mall opened, has closed. There is one Crabtree & Evelyn shop left in the state of Minnesota, and they used to be scattered throughout the many local malls.
I don't follow the business news, so I can't be sure, but I think we are seeing the effect of the long recession of depression since the 2008 crash. Chains that made it through 2008 are one by one cutting back or closing completely, as Border's did.
When a business fails, we are told there were management failures. When it succeeds, we are told the managers are genuises. However, in the war of all against all which is capitalism, some have to win and others have to lose. Often, it's a matter of luck.
That given, general economic conditions will influence success and failure. A lot of companies succeed in a boom economy. A lot fail in a recession or depression.
What interests me is the kind of stores that are closing. Bloomingdale's, Neiman Marcus, Godiva and Crabtree & Evelyn are all, to one extent or another, upscale -- the kind of places middle class people might go to for a luxury purchase and where upper middle class might shop regularly. (I think the seriously rich fly to New York or Paris to shop.) The poor and ordinary working people are not likely to be customers in these places, certainly not at Neiman Marcus. I walk in there in my jeans and tee shirt, and the shop people look at me, and I feel about an inch tall.
But the Nieman Marcus store in downtown Minneapolis, which has been there for years, is closing.
What does this tell us about the economy?
Changing buses, I went past the Godiva shop in the IDS building. Or rather, I went into the shop and bought some chocolate mint truffle bars. The shop guy told me they were closing down in a week or so, and there would be no Godiva shops in downtown Minneapolis. So I bought more chocolate mint truffle bars.
This reminded me that the Nieman Marcus in downtown Minneapolis was closing, so I went there to see if there were any deals. There weren't. The store is not closing till year-end.
The Bloomingdale's at the Mall of America, which has been there since the Mall opened, has closed. There is one Crabtree & Evelyn shop left in the state of Minnesota, and they used to be scattered throughout the many local malls.
I don't follow the business news, so I can't be sure, but I think we are seeing the effect of the long recession of depression since the 2008 crash. Chains that made it through 2008 are one by one cutting back or closing completely, as Border's did.
When a business fails, we are told there were management failures. When it succeeds, we are told the managers are genuises. However, in the war of all against all which is capitalism, some have to win and others have to lose. Often, it's a matter of luck.
That given, general economic conditions will influence success and failure. A lot of companies succeed in a boom economy. A lot fail in a recession or depression.
What interests me is the kind of stores that are closing. Bloomingdale's, Neiman Marcus, Godiva and Crabtree & Evelyn are all, to one extent or another, upscale -- the kind of places middle class people might go to for a luxury purchase and where upper middle class might shop regularly. (I think the seriously rich fly to New York or Paris to shop.) The poor and ordinary working people are not likely to be customers in these places, certainly not at Neiman Marcus. I walk in there in my jeans and tee shirt, and the shop people look at me, and I feel about an inch tall.
But the Nieman Marcus store in downtown Minneapolis, which has been there for years, is closing.
What does this tell us about the economy?
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