Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Gay Stereotypes: Illustrated

These are fun. Brooklyn-based illustrator Paul Tuller and creative director James Kuczynski have teamed up and are selling these stereotypes reclaiming posters via Society6. A portion of the selling price for each poster goes to the GLSEN campaign "Think B4 You Speak," which raises awareness of the use of homophobic words and phrases.


Saturday, June 29, 2013

Photos are Not Always What They Seem


David Trullo/A True History-Alterhistory
While sorting through images depicting men in relationships, I almost passed by this one without a second thought. The picture does not add anything to my collection: there are hundreds of pictures of young men wearing military uniforms that are holding hands. There are scores of images of men from the World War I era.

I expanded the picture to look a little closer at the details. Enlarged, the picture takes on a surreal quality. The lighting and tones are a little off and lends an artificial quality to the image. Something doesn't seem quite right.

This is, of course, because there is something that is not right about the image. There is something unreal about it.

The components of the image are real. Each of the two young boys in uniform existed at some point in history. The background is a real place that once existed.

An artist, named David Trullo, collected pictures similar to the ones I have, manipulated and altered them, and created an alternative history that did not actually happen. While the boys and background were at one time real, they were never real together at the same time.

In his artist's statement, Trullo writes


Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Art Shows the Unseen

Artist Sandow Birk gives us two opposing images:

A Conservative Map of the World/Sandow Berk
A Liberal Map of the World/Sandow Berk
Follow me on Tumblr for an ongoing view of things that I'm looking at that show the unseen.

Friday, July 20, 2012

The Last Pictures by Trevor Paglen: Impermanence and Mindfulness

This morning I came across a project by Trevor Paglen. He will launch 100 images into space to serve as a lasting reminder of who were were when all that we are is gone. I'm looking forward to seeing the images--for both what is included as well as what is not. The answers to both reveal so much rich information about any given person's understandings of the world.

The project, of course, isn't really about leaving a memory of who we were. There is no permanence. While perhaps the satellite that carries these images as payload will be aloft for "billions of years," those billions of years will come to and end. The structures of the machinery will decay. The images will degrade. The light of the sun will end. All that is will some day no longer be. At least that which is, will no longer be, something that is a form that can be recognized as something that was once us.

Despite this truth of impermanence, we all struggle, in our own ways, to leave behind a memory. We wish to make some statement that we too were here. We wish to extend ourselves into the no-thing-ness and evade impermanence. We seek to quell our fears about non-existence.

Imagine for a moment a life without these fears. Imagine a life built around existence rather than fear of non-existence. I am--I am here--right now. Not--I was there. I was. Remember what I was.

So much of my work as a psychologist is about finding and recognizing those complicated moments in time where patient and therapist breathe into an experience and connect with the act of being present in a moment. It is a rare place to find--one in which we aren't what we did, we aren't what we will do, we aren't what we are doing. We are being.

Almost there. Take out the we are.

Being. That's it. That's all there is. Being. Not being now. or being later, or being before.

Just being.

Being.


Trevor Paglen - The Last Pictures from Creative Time on Vimeo.

Friday, May 4, 2012

Happy Birthday Keith

Happy birthday to Keith Haring, who would have been 54 today. He felt his swift hand was not controlled by himself, but by some mysterious artistic force. "If you are being honest to yourself, and honest to whatever this thing is coming through you, that the work makes itself and you just become a vehicle for it."

The imagery that came through him gave us all ways to think about birth, death, sex, and war. Take some time today to look at the world through his eyes. What do you see?


Saturday, April 21, 2012

It's Just a Word: Transvestite, Transsexual, & Transgender

My first dissertation chair, Glenda Russell, loved words. She also loved challenging our use of words. It wasn't black ice--as our culture frequently equates black with bad and white with positive--it was invisible ice. We don't skirt around issues either, as making reference to a skirt calls upon society's perceptions of women.  These conversations we had in her office some ten odd years ago came to mind this morning while I was reading my Twitter feed.






This is exactly the nuanced and thoughtful awareness that Glenda taught me to pay attention to in her office. Words matter--our choices in words represent complicated concepts and in turn, create our mutual understandings of the world around us.





Well now that's interesting. Maybe not to the casual reader, but the use of the word transvestite is very interesting to me. I had a great Twitter conversation with Steve Silberman about the use of language.












Magnus Hirschfeld
Transvestite, first coined by Magnus Hirschfeld in the early 1900s, the term was used to describe people who consistently dressed in clothing consistent with what those of the opposite sex wore. Transvestites would be male or female, with same-sex attractions or different-sex attractions, or no interest in sex at all. The word has evolved and now most frequently is associated with a mental illness. The current incarnation of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of the American Psychiatric Association lists Transvestic Fetishism as a mental illness. The official symptoms are:



over a period of at least six months, in a heterosexual male, recurrent, intense sexually arousing fantasies, sexual urges, or behaviors involving cross-dressing. The fantasies, sexual urges, or behaviors cause clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning.
So the official word is that straight men who get turned on by wearing women's clothes have a mental illness. Gay men who get turned on by women's clothes are perfectly normal, as are, apparently, women who wear pants. Sound a little ridiculous to you? It does to me.

So let's go back to the Discovery News article that Steve posted. What Chevalier D'Eon, pictured on the left, suffering from transvestic fetishism? Did he have a mental illness?

The answer depends on how you contextualize his experience (and, how Chevalier described his own experience). Chevalier died in 1810. The word transvestite had not yet been created and the DSM hadn't been dreamed up. Could he have been suffering from conditions that were not yet invented? Are mental illnesses--or conditions--timeless? Have they always existed? Do they exist only within the context of our culture and society?

We are prone to making terrible errors when thinking about history. We project our modern understandings of phenomena into the past. Yes, the phenomena of some men being turned on by wearing clothes associated with the opposite sex is likely a phenomena that has existed since we first started wearing clothes that identify differences in sex. This does not, however, mean that the meanings associated with the behavior are consistent through history. Context matters. Context changes--and so does our understandings of the same phenomena when we add the variable of time.

The article went on:
Here's how D'Eon's transvestitism came to pass: He joined King Louis XV's secret service in 1755, had his first major military posting in London in 1763... However, within months, he had a falling-out with the ambassador appointed to replace him in London, accusing the ambassador of trying to murder him. D'Eon also made public secret documents and ended up being sent to prison, which he escaped. Once escaped, D'Eon concealed his identity, reportedly, by dressing as a woman... And after that, apparently D'Eon was forced to adopt female dress, and others accepted him as a female. 
Whoops. Wait a minute. The current understanding of transvestism is that it is a mental illness that occurs in heterosexual men that are sexually turned on by wearing clothes that are considered female. The discovery article makes no mention of any of the relevant criteria for the so-called mental illness. D'Eon's transvestism, as described, is behavior used to avoid being detected by authorities and/or adversaries.

This is a totally different phenomena than is captured by the phrase transvestism.

What was D'Eon really thinking and experiencing? The Wikipedia page offers this tantalizing bit of information:
D'Eon claimed to be physically not a man, but a woman, and demanded recognition by the government as such. King Louis XVI and his court complied, but demanded that d'Eon dress appropriately and wear women's clothing.
This would make it more likely that in modern times, D'Eon would have identified as transgender. As with transvestism, I think it's important to look at how our description of this phenomena developed. Magnus Hirschfeld, who coined the term transvestite, also supervised the first known sex-confirmation surgery. The term transsexual didn't come into use until 1949 when David Oliver Cauldwell first used it. It wasn't until the 1970s and 80s that the terms gender identity disorder and later transgender came into use.

D'Eon would have never considered himself as a transvestite, as transsexual, as someone with gender identity disorder, or transgender. These terms did not exist to describe phenomena. Our shared history and way of viewing the world had not yet evolved and grown to a place where these terms had come into existence. We thought of ourselves very differently in the 1700s--our sense of self--and our ways of know ourselves--was embedded in the language of that time.

So how do with think of D'Eon? Maybe he (or she, as some references suggestion D'Eon referred to self as she) left behind journals or other writings. Maybe their are some historical documents that describe how D'Eon moved through the world, how D'Eon represented his/her self to others. Maybe these documents don't exist.

What I do know is that it makes no sense to transport ourselves back to the 1700s with 2012 ways of knowing and think we can understand how people experienced the world. If we take our current world-view and use it to understand the past, we really are just developing an understanding of the past as we would think of it if we time traveled. It is an ethnocentric way of understanding history, and is a tool that isn't particularly helpful. We cannot judge a culture (or individual experience) from another era by our own standards and ways of knowing.

To understand the past as it was, we need to know how people of the time thought of their experience.

Back to D'Eon and my conversation with Steve.








I had no idea who D'Eon was when I had this conversation with Steve. Now that I know, I think this still wouldn't be the right way to think about D'Eon. It's unclear what D'Eon thought about his/her sex or gender. We can only project into the past (he/she lived and dressed like a woman, so he/she must have thought we was a woman--or female). No matter how we think of D'Eon, our thoughts will be embedded in our modern culture and our modern way of thinking. Absent first person narrative, there isn't a way to represent D'Eon in a way that is grounded in D'Eon's own phenomenology.

That for me is the exciting part of history--learning about my own phenomenology and trying to decode how someone in any particular historical era might have understood something from their own phenomenological viewpoint. What do you think?

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Seeking Shambhala in Gallery 280

During a recent visit to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston I discovered a variety of interesting curiosities. One, which I blogged about previously, is the discovery that I don't ever want to own or wear man pants. The main event of this particular trip, however, was the special exhibition in Gallery 280: Seeking Shambhala. The show is up until October 21 so you have plenty of time to catch it.

Shambhala, according to Tibetan Buddhist and Indian Buddhist traditions, is a mythical kingdom hidden somewhere deep within inner Asia. The land is said to be shaped like a giant lotus flower surrounded by eight petals which, in turn, are surrounded by snow-covered mountains. The inhabitants of Shambhala are protected by both the mountains and supernatural forces which ensure the residents are protected from the rest of the world. Those who live here lead an evolved spiritual life and are free from all forms of suffering and strife. Sounds kind of nice, doesn't it?

Prior to this trip to the MFA, the closest I've gotten to Shambhala was a trip to another museum. I think it was in 1997 that a group of Buddhist monks came to the Cleveland Museum of Art and created a sand mandala that was a physical representation of Shambhala. I also got fairly close to Shambhala when a group of monks were in residence at Northeastern University underneath my office in the counseling center. They also were building a sand mandala.

On both occasions I quietly hung out in the back of the room watching the monks carefully build the mandala--sometimes a grain of sand at a time. I also got to watch the ceremony at the end of the creation of the mandala where the sand was swept up and washed away in a body of water.

Impermanence. It gets you every time.

Among the various pieces in gallery 280 I came across this Buddha by Gonkar Gyatso. It was one of those great moments with art--I got drawn into the piece and all the little adornments placed onto the Buddha. Those few moments seemed like an eternity and when I left I saw everything in a different way. I got to thinking of all the little (and big) experiences of our lives that get imprinted upon us and shape our understandings of what comes next. I also got to thinking about the form of what is beneath this surface of impressions.

What might be like to take water and a scrub brush to this Buddha (I wouldn't actually do this, of course, except within my own mind). Might it be possible to wash away these small adornments on the Buddha--these impressions of life--and reveal the true form of the statute? Might it be possible that we can wash away the impressions of life--like the monks wash away the sand mandala--and be left with something pure?

I frequently tell clients who are working through trauma something similar. Trauma work, as I see it, is much like going to the doctor for wound debridement. Every bit of contaminant needs to be located and scrubbed out. I realize that for as many times as I've told a client this, I've never talked about what is left behind.

I'm not sure what would be left. That's probably why I've not thought to talk about it with a client. It's easy to think about what this Buddha would like like with all these impressions washed away. It's a lot harder to think about what people might look like. Maybe we'll figure it out if we ever get to Shambhala.

In the meantime, it's worth it to make a trip into Boston to spend some time with this Buddha. He has a lot to teach.


Monday, January 2, 2012

What Even Happened to Liberal Arts?

Reference
Regular readers of my blog might remember an earlier post that I wrote upon discovering the Library of Congress digital archives. I recently went back for another visit to the archives and pulled up a treasure trove of interesting things.

To the left is one of the images I collected. What caught my eye is the government offering free adult education classes in the liberal arts. Can you imagine that happening now?

Back in 1937 it did happen. Under the auspices of the WPA (Works Projects Administration), interested adults in Chicago would sign up and learn all sorts of interesting things . Stop for a moment and think about that: adults signing up to learn more about the world around them. Art appreciation, perhaps. How about a new language? A painting class? Child development? All were likely possibilities in addition to basic reading, writing, and arithmetic.

I'd like to imagine it was a time where people had the opportunity to be both thoroughly grounded in basic skills (reading, writing, arithmetic, critical thinking) and be exposed to a diversity of thoughts to indulge curiosity and wonder. This is at least my romanticized version of history.

What are things like now? Less curiosity and wonder. That's for sure.

If you have some extra time, and are curious, check out this Frontline episode about some of the perils of for-profit higher education institutions. You might also be interested in this New York Times article that details the fraud charges the Department of Justice filed against one for profit higher education institution.


Watch College Inc. on PBS. See more from FRONTLINE.


Saturday, December 31, 2011

The Tsunami and the Cherry Blossom

A haunting and important reminder of the importance of fully inhabiting each moment. The film clip below, from a documentary called The Tsunami and the Cherry Blossom, uses a disaster to remind us all of "the ephemeral nature of life and the healing power of Japan's most beloved flower."


The Tsunami and the Cherry Blossom Trailer from Tsunami Blossom on Vimeo.

"Even when the flower falls, we love it. That's the heart of the Japanese person. Flowers dying is not a sad thing."