Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Bruce Byfield’ Category

Riding transit

Posted in British Columbia, Bruce Byfield, Personal, skytrain, transit, Vancouver, tagged , , , , , , , on November 10, 2009| 2 Comments »

One thing you can say about public transit: It may not be cheap or convenient, and you learn more about people’s personal hygiene than you ever wanted to know, but there’s nothing like it for people watching.

Sometimes, the people are just outlandish – and I say that as card-carrying eccentric myself. For instance, last weekend, a couple boarded the Skytrain walking very close together. He was tall, with a near beard and long hair and sun glasses. She was shabbily dressed, in kneeless jeans that only stayed up when she held a belt loop, and bobbing her head in a stoned sort of way to the tracks on her iPod. She also had an odor of at least two types of smoke and unwashed body trailing her like a shadow. Close inspection showed she was wearing a dog collar that was chained to his belt. Every now and again, he would give a little proprietary tug, not hard, but enough so that she would try to fix her eyes on him. I try to be broadminded, but if ever a couple needed to be told to rent a room, this one did. That’s not the sort of role-playing you expect to see in the middle of a Sunday afternoon.

But people on transit frequently reveal so much about themselves that they seem to be under the illusion that nobody around them can see or hear them. I remember one time when a young man got on at Metrotown looking distinctly lumpish. He was carrying a dozen coat hangers, and seemed to be wearing as many shirts and sweaters. I’d say he got on casually, if there wasn’t such a nervous edge to his casualness.

That attitude is especially common with people on cell phones. They talk as loudly as possible, until I’m tempted to clap at the end of their calls. One man even broke up with his lover in the middle of a crowded car I was riding in. “But I love you!” he keep saying, while embarrassment spread around him like a stain. After he left, I could see people relax, and several looked at each other and shook their heads.

It’s encounters like these that generated my first dictum about riding transit: Whatever you do, don’t make eye contact. The risk of having to make conversation with some of your fellow passengers is simply too high.

Read Full Post »

Getting a haircut

Posted in Bruce Byfield, haircut, humor, Personal, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on November 5, 2009| Leave a Comment »

You can tell I took the day off today; I got a haircut. I take time off so seldom that, when I do, it’s usually long past time for me to do something about my hair. There comes a time when I have to ignore my small surge of apprehension about the task and just get it done.

Part of the apprehension comes from childhood haircuts. In elementary school, the barber I was taken to was a Glaswegian. In retrospect, I believe he meant well, but his roaring, incomprehensible accent frightened me. I could never understand what he was saying, and often had to guess, which made our conversations strained at the best of times.

Even worse, he knew one style: a buzz cut. As I grew older, I became deeply ashamed of such haircuts. I would wear a hood whenever the weather made it natural, and often when it didn’t.

Then, when the Glaswegian retired and I had to go to another barber, I started a slow campaign to increase the length of my hair a bit with each haircut. By Grade Nine, I had a decent length of hair, but it took many long years before I could not spend my time n the barber chair glaring balefully at the stylist in the mirror and convinced that I would be shorn to the scalp if I let my attention wander for a second.

These days, that fear is quietened to a rumble, like the ones you occasionally hear from dormant volcanoes. But, unfortunately, it’s been replaced by a morbid fascination that makes me almost as uneasy in its own way.

You see, I go so long between haircuts that the entire shape of my face changes with the length and thickness of my hair. By the time I get a cut, my hair makes my face look round and boyish.

Then, bit by bit, as the hair falls to the floor (and it’s a good thing that I’m not charged by the kilo, let me tell you), someone else emerges – a stranger with a leaner face and a higher hairline. He seems harder and older and more athletic than the person I saw in the mirror that morning, and I’m not sure that I approve of him or even like him.

In fact, as I see him emerge from under my hair, the strangest sense of dislocation sweeps over me. It is as though an alternate world version of myself is surfacing in the mirror, waiting to take me over.

As this feeling increases, I continue chatting and joking as though nothing is wrong. But I think the tension in my body betrays me, and I always slide off the chair and walk towards the cash desk with a sense of relief that I have survived the ordeal without losing my soul. And, as I leave the shop, for the next few hours, I am always glancing at my reflection, as though expecting to see the invader still there.

Of course, this dislocation would never happen if I had my hair cut more regularly. But I associate it so much with having my hair cut, I never manage to get on a shorter schedule. On some level, I don’t care to give that other self in the mirror more chances than necessary to take me over.

Read Full Post »

Opening paragraph strategies

Posted in Bruce Byfield, composition, education, essay writing, opening paragraphs, Personal, teaching, Uncategorized, writing, tagged , , , , , , , , , on November 4, 2009| 1 Comment »

(The following is a handout from my days of teaching first year composition at university. It consists of some informal examples of opening paragraph strategies, but should be equally useful for formal essays. Anyone who finds it useful can reproduce it, so long as they give me credit for it)

Explanation of Topic’s Importance (Anticipatory Summary):
Computers abound in our houses and offices, exchanging information via modems. Programmers are constantly finding new applications for existing software, and computer technicians are refining the hardware so fast that a new computer is no longer state of the art six months after it is sold. We live in a computer-dominated age, and every citizen should have some knowledge of computers. They make routine decisions in business, education and government, and monitor our defense systems. They help individuals to manage their private affairs, to organize their personal records, and to access goods and services, and municipali­ties and legislatures depend on them for planning future develop­ment. Since a knowledge of computers is so necessary for all of us, computer education–“computer literacy,” as the jargon has it–plays a significant role in our society. To understand this role, we must first consider the importance of computer education to the individual citizen and to the country as a whole; next, we must assess the present quality of computer education at all levels; and, finally, we must examine the ways in which computer education can be improved.

Examples:
For many years, automatic vending machines have dispensed such products as salted peanuts, chewing gum, cigarettes, soft drinks and candy bars. Now these robot sellers are becoming more ver­satile. At one eastern airport, the simple act of inserting a coin in a slot will get you a magazine, a pen, a toothbrush, a pocket comb, a handkerchief, a necktie, a suit of underwear, a cup of hot coffee or chicken soup, a set of puzzle toys, a spray of perfume, an insurance policy or a shoe-shine. There are other machines that will take your blood pressure or give you a thirty-second dose of pure oxygen. One corporation has designed an automatic snack bar–a cluster of automatic vending machines that offer toasted sandwiches, hot soup, chili, baked beans and hot pastries and pies. Another firm has produced an automatic cafeteria with a menu of over fifty dishes, including a roast-turkey dinner; the machines even say “thank-you” in a computer-generated voice. These are only a few examples of the many types of vending machines. How are these mechanical conveniences constructed? What effect do they have on buying habits? As we shall see, the vending machine plays a major role in modern commerce.

Definition:
Although manufacturers are reluctant to discuss it except in general terms, copyright violation is becoming increasingly common in our society. Briefly, copyright violation may be defined as the unauthorized use of an artistic product such as a book or a software program by anyone other than the creators or their representatives. It may involve the use of material in slightly altered form, or the copying and distribution of the work, with or without profit. Some people, especially artists, are violently opposed to copyright violation; others, especially software users, consider it their right and something which is inevitable. However it is viewed, it raises ethical issues of great importance.

Cause and Effect:
For the past two years, I have run an average of four to six miles every morning. The results have been amazing. The daily exercise keeps me calm and alert for the rest of the day. It allows me to eat what I want without worrying about calories, and to sleep well every night. It gives me more energy, and, most of all, it gives me a self-confidence that carries over into everything I do. My experience has convinced me that everyone should have some form of daily exercise.

Comparison and Contrast:
For many years, we have thought of the Vikings as bloodthirsty savages who did their best to destroy European civilization. Now, we are starting to understand that this view is too limited. The Vikings were certainly no more bloodthirsty than those they attacked (who generally defeated them, after all), and in many ways they were more advanced. At a time when merchant ships hugged the coast both for safety and for ease of navigation, the Vikings were building sturdy yet light boats that were capable of surviving all but the roughest storms, and boldly sailing across the open ocean using their navigation skills. At a time when most people lived and died within ten miles of where they were born, the Vikings ranged from North American to Russia, and from Greenland to central Africa. Most European art during the Dark Ages was a crude attempt at representational art; the Viking had an intricate abstract art style that we are only now starting to appreciate. Similarly, while most European literature was oral and poetic, the Vikings had complex poetry and detailed prose stories about the deeds of their ancestors. Until early in the twentieth century, a woman in France or Italy had little say in who she would marry, and almost no right to property or divorce; a thousand years ago in Iceland, women had all these rights under written law. As archaeologists have started to reevaluate Viking culture, we have learnt that, far from the horn-helmeted savages of popular imagination, the Vikings were a literate and sophisticated people who were probably closer to us in their assumptions than the southern Europeans of the Dark Ages.

Rhetorical Question:
Can chimpanzees talk in sign language, or do they simply learn what to do to get what they want? Are dolphins and whales possessed of an intelligence equal to ours, but subtly different in nature? Can parrots really have the intelligence of a five year old child? Biologists are divided about the answers to such questions, but the fact that these questions can be asked at all challenge our assumption of our uniqueness. How the question is eventually answered will have a sweeping effect upon our religions, science and ethics.

Illustrative Anecdote:
Once, I made the mistake of telling the woman who was cutting my hair that I wrote poetry. “Must be nice,” she said. “Just light up a joint, sit back and wait for inspiration, then write whatever comes into your head.” At the time, I could have told her that I didn’t smoke tobacco, let alone anything stronger, but, when I think of all that I have learned in the intervening years, I realize that I could have said a good deal more. Like most people, she had a romantic view of writing that is almost totally unrelated to the reality. The truth is not only that few writers use any stimulants stronger than coffee (at least, while they are writing), but also that they hardheadedly plug away at lonely and time-consuming work that, far from being easy, can ruin your nerves in a week if you take it too seriously.

Opposing View to Be Refuted:
Many people think that keeping parrots is like keeping fish. Just as you keep fish in a bowl, feed them, and sit back and watch them, so you keep parrots in a cage, feed them, and sit back and watch their antics. Pet-store owners tell me that this assumption is so strong that some people buy parrots to match the decor of their living rooms. I don’t know how many people act so careless­ly, but I do know that they are in for a surprise. Far from being passive animals, parrots are curious, intelligent birds, that have to be watched constantly and demand hours of attention each day.

Relevant Quote:
“Violence,” Isaac Asimov writes in his Foundation series, “is the last refuge of the incompetent.” Salvor Hardin, the character who adopts this aphorism as his motto, goes to great lengths to prove it, inevitably outwitting his enemies when he applies it. Cynics may doubt that avoiding violence in real life is as easy as it is for Hardin, but, if my personal experience is any indication, Asimov may have a point. Admittedly, avoiding violence is harder than giving into your impulses, and requires more patience. Yet the simple fact of making the effort is worthwhile for at least two reasons: it leads to creative thinking about problems, and, if successful, to more permanent solutions.

Read Full Post »

Northwest Coast Art and Scholasticism

Posted in aboriginal art, art, art appreciation, British Columbia, Bruce Byfield, First Nations art, indian art, Northwest Coast Art, Personal, scholasticism, Uncategorized, Vancouver, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on November 1, 2009| Leave a Comment »

I appreciate Northwest Coast art for many reasons. It is semi-abstract, which always captures my imagination. It has a historical and sociological aspect, so I can combine intellectual and aesthetic interests. It is the art of my home, although not of my culture. But, sometimes, I think that my main reason for buying Northwest Coast art is that it is one of the few modern forms that remains largely unaffected by scholasticism.

By “scholasticism,” I refer to the modern trend in many of the arts for artists to be more interested in theories or concepts than in craft or any general audience. It is a trend that has occupied most of the twentieth century, and continues to prevail in the 21st. I’ve seen it first hand in poetry and literature, and it seems equally prevalent in music, painting, and dance. It is the approach that Tom Wolfe slammed, outrageously and a little unfairly in architecture when he wrote From Bauhaus to Our House.

Under scholasticism, what matters is the theory behind it. Before anything else, what interests the artists of scholasticism is demonstrating that they can put the theory into practice. Their work tends to be crammed with obscure references and in-jokes, and their talk is usually more about the theory than the work itself. It creates a vicious circle, with artists losing audiences because of their obscure practices, then retreating into even obscurer theory in reaction to the lack of audience.

While exceptions exist, Northwest Coast art seems largely free of such attitude. Beginners may be told to read Bill Holm to understand the mysteries of formline, but nobody reacts when someone breaks the alleged rules, or strikes out in a new direction, as the Salish artists have in the last few decades. Similarly, while many artists have experimented with the forms of modern art, few seem to become obsessed with the theories behind the forms.

Why Northwest Coast art has been spared this obsession is probably complex. But it is not because the art is in any way primitive, any more than Celtic knotwork is primitive. Such forms can be dismissed as primitive or romantic only to those who have not bothered to learn about them.

Nor is it naive. Many Northwest Coast artists are just as prone to in-jokes as any mainstream artists, but the difference is that the jokes are an extra layer of meaning, not the only one, nor even the most important one most of the time.

Nor does the reason has anything to do with the rigidity of change, or even the marketplace. For the last century and a half, Northwest Coast artists have seized on new media whenever they have had the chance. Argillite, glass, aluminum, canvas – each of these has been eagerly adopted as soon as it became available. The same is true of tools, from steel engraving tools to power tools. And, as often as not, the artists have begun work with new media and tools with only a few denouncements from their peers, people, or clients.

If anything, this versatility may have helped Northwest Coast artists take scholastic art in their stride. Although scholasticism is all about breaks with the past – often, the nosier the better – few Northwest Coast artists seem to consider new media, tools, or techniques a radical departure. This attitude has become very apparent in the Bill Reid Gallery’s current Continuum show, in which the curators’ efforts to start a dialog about the differences between traditional and contemporary first nations art has met with very limited success. Almost all the artists in the show make clear that they don’t see such an opposition.

Another reason for the freedom from scholasticism may be that, unlike modern mainstream artists, Northwest Coast artists tend not feel deracinated. Their art is not only an expression of their cultures, but a statement that their cultures are alive and thriving. Even those who did not grow up in their cultures generally feel an urge to know more about their origins as their art develops, and, for many in their communities, the success of Northwest Coast art is an obvious source of pride. Rediscovering and proclaiming their cultures, perhaps, is more than enough of an agenda to be going on with.
Not only that, but Northwest Coast art has genuine popularity, both among the first nations cultures of the coast and a small segment of the general art-buying public.

Admittedly, this popularity is not an unalloyed good. I have heard artists complain about being limited in their subject matter because something too esoteric won’t sell. Some artists, too, are tempted by the tourist trade, and start producing cheap curios rather than art. In addition, the popularity of the art form ties too many artists to the gallery system, and allows a handful of gallery owners far too much influence on what the public sees.

However, this popularity still gives Northwest Coast artists a huge advantage over their mainstream counterparts. Unlike mainstream artists, Northwest Coast artists know their work is appreciated – sometimes for the wrong reason, sometimes condescendingly, but appreciated all the same. Much of the public art in British Columbia is from the first nations, and, internationally, probably only art from the American Southwest is more eager sought after. In their own cultures, art is increasingly wanted for potlatches and ceremonial purposes.

Unlike many mainstream artists, Northwest Coast artists – even the most reclusive ones – have a dialogue with their audiences. They may not always like what they hear or agree with it, but they can still count on a degree of interest that mainstream artists can hardly imagine. So long as that interest remains, I suspect, it is hard to imagine scholasticism ever getting much of a hold in Northwest Coast art.

Why disengage and retreat into the cloisters when you have people who want to talk about your art? After all, that is what most artists want, even those who are most deeply into scholasticism – an audience that engages their work.

I used to wonder why mainstream art events so rarely included first nations artists in Vancouver. The communities seem very separate, even though a few people like Andrew Dexel or Sonny Assu seem to cross between them. The answer, I now believe, is that the two communities are so different that communication is difficult. Their approaches, attitudes, and perspectives are so much opposed to one another that the surprising thing is not that some Northwest Coast artists are exploring the mainstream. The surprising thing is that any have managed to do so at all. But, apparently, Northwest Coast Arti is in such a healthy state that it can even absorb attitudes that are opposite to its core assumptions without any real difficulty.

Read Full Post »

John Wilson’s “Shaman and His Helpers”

Posted in aboriginal art, art, art appreciation, British Columbia, Bruce Byfield, First Nations art, Freda Diesing School of Northwest Coast Art, Haisla, indian art, Northwest Coast Art, Personal, shaman, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 28, 2009| Leave a Comment »

One of the pleasures of buying work from beginning artists is watching them fulfill their potential. Last January, I saw enough promise in John Wilson’s work to buy one of his masks. Now, in masks like “Shaman and His Helpers,” his work has reached its first maturity.

Compared to most of Wilson’s earlier works, “Shaman and His Helpers” is a busy piece, both in subject and execution. It benefits, too, from Wilson’s study of traditional masks through pictures, the most obvious benefit being the use of eye holes instead of painted irises and pupils.

The mask depicts a shaman and his spirit helpers. One of the spirit helpers sits in the shaman’s mouth, as though resting after a long climb up his esophagus. The other sits in the middle of his forehead like a frontlet. Both these positions suggest that the helpers are indicators of the shaman’s true nature.

The helpers look more or less human, but the one in the mouth is in a vaguely frog-like position, while the one on the forehead is round enough to be a moon. While the shaman’s eyes are narrowed as though he is entering a trance, both helpers have closed eyes, as if asleep or focusing inwardly.

One way or the other, you sense, the shaman’s and the helpers’ eyes are going to be in the same state shortly: Either the shaman is about to enter their world of perception or else the spirits will come into his. No matter which happens, the result is a mask of a half-realized transition.

Interestingly, too, the spirit on the forehead is painted similarly to the shaman, while the spirit at the mouth is left unpainted. That may be an artistic decision made because any paint would be overwhelmed by the red of the shaman’s lips. But the effect is to suggest that the spirits are in some ways opposite.
Are the spirits different aspects of the shaman’s nature? Or perhaps the helper in the mouth is unrevealed, a creature of the dark, and the moon-like one on the forehead is a creature of light? At the point portrayed in the mask, they do not seem at odds, so perhaps they are opposites needed for balance and insight. Whatever the case, a moment of magic and transition is depicted.

The awe of the moment is heightened by the design of the mask. Tall, thin masks are common in the northern tradition, but in this case, the physical dimensions suggest a lean asceticism that seems fitting for a shaman. This asceticism is heightened by the high cheekbones and the deepness of the eye sockets near the nose, which suggest that the shaman might have been fasting. The black eyebrows reinforce this sense of gauntness, especially in a bright light that emphasizes the cheekbones and eye sockets.

At the same time, the mask carries a hint of menace or pain. Especially from a distance, the hands of the spirit in the mouth suggest fangs. Similarly, the unusually bright red used in the mask leave a half-unconscious impression of blood, as though the shaman’s trance is accompanied by a nosebleed and his biting of his own lip. Or perhaps the redness of the lips suggests that the shaman is giving a sort of birth to the spirit clinging to his lips. The suggestions are understated – there are no blatant riverlets of blood trickling from the nostrils or down the chin – but they are only more effective for being subtle.

And always the grain, which Wilson has carefully matched to the contours of the face, stands out, suggesting a movement or fluidity just below the skin. Influenced by his teachers at the Fred Diesing School, Wilson has always shown an awareness of the grain as a finishing detail, but here that awareness is not just a reflection of technical skill, but also an addition to the design.

When this mask first went on the market, I missed the chance to buy it, and cursed my slowness to make a decision. Luckily for me, the first owner changed their mind, and I was able to buy it after all. The more I study “Shaman and His Helpers,” the more I think it is Wilson’s best mask to date. At the same time, knowing that he is a constant carver and likely to have decades to continue his learning of his craft, I can’t wait to see what levels he will reach next.

shaman-and-helpers

Read Full Post »

Don’t call me an entrepreneur

Posted in Bruce Byfield, capitalism, careers, employment, entrepreneurs, Personal, Uncategorized, work, tagged , , , , , , , on October 25, 2009| Leave a Comment »

Because I have been in business for myself during much of my adult life, people occasionally call me an entrepreneur. They mean it for a compliment, so I try to hide the fact that I consider the term an insult.

I can see why they might apply the term to me. I’m rarely at my best in a 9 to 5 job, and I maintain a sole proprietorship called Outlaw Communications that I occasionally remember to declare my GST on. Once or twice, I’ve even created jobs by sub-contracting.

Still, there is a fundamental difference between an entrepreneur and me. An entrepreneur is someone who wants to accumulate money or power, a whole-hearted participant in the game of capitalism set on building their own empire – if only so they can take early retirement. But I’m none of those things.

By contrast, my attitude is that of a bourgeois intellectual. Although I see no nobility in poverty, and don’t object to having a good year for income, I am not especially concerned with accumulating money. My ambition in those directions extends only so far as being comfortable, and having a good chance to be as comfortable as I am now in the future.

As for power over people, while I mildly prefer it to them having power over me, who needs the responsibility? I am far more interested, too, in interesting work now than in early retirement – especially since, if I worked hard enough to take early retirement, I probably would forget how to enjoy it anyway.

Besides, having survived on the outer edge of academia for years, I am full of anti-capitalist sentiment. Accumulating privilege seems a ridiculously trivial way to spend my time when there are so many books, films, songs, and pieces of art to appreciate – to say nothing of exercise, conversation, and food. Why make the effort, especially when it is so soon forgotten? Andrew Carnegie and John Paul Getty may have been known in their times, but their names are only half-familiar at best today.

Consequently, I have a hard time understanding in my heart of hearts why a grown adult would be pleased to be called an entrepreneur, or imagine that I would be. Taking on that role seems to involve an obsession with the banal, and a deliberate decision to ignore most of what makes life worth living while getting nothing worthwhile in return.

Frankly, the idea of being an entrepreneur bores me. As for being called one, why would I pleased that someone considered me so shallow?

This attitude, no doubt, explains why I will never be rich. But, please, don’t strain my manners by calling me an entrepreneur. I aspire to better things than that.

Read Full Post »

Nicholas Galanin, concept art and the Northwest Coast tradition

Posted in aboriginal art, art, art appreciation, Bill Reid, Bill Reid Gallery, British Columbia, Bruce Byfield, First Nations art, indian art, Michael Dangeli, Nicholas Galanin, Northwest Coast Art, Personal, Tlingit, Uncategorized, Vancouver, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 24, 2009| 3 Comments »

This afternoon, I heard Tlingit artist Nicholas Galanin speak at the Bill Reid Gallery. His talk was my first prolonged exposure to concept art applied to Northwest Coast art. I came away stimulated, but not particularly sympathetic to the effort.

Galanin is the latest of several generations of artists, and has done some jewelry in the traditional style. However, at least for the time being, he is not especially interested in traditional art or culture. He talked about traditional art as being confined by the stereotypes imposed by a romantic view of first nations, and – rather tellingly – could not tell where he obtained a traditional song he used in a video, even though in coast cultures, rights in songs and their performance can be important pieces of property. [Note: Both Galanin and Sonny Assu tell me that it was not the traditional song whose source Galanin didn’t know, but a hiphop song that was part of the same work. See the comments below. I apologize for the error].

Instead, Galanin is more interested in exploring the First Nations as another ethnic minority within the dominant culture – in particular, how coastal images are bastardized and exploited by cheap imitations made in Asia for the tourist trade in the Northwest Coast. He discussed, for example, a series of masks he made out of pages of the Bible, talking about how he found it appropriate that the holy book of Christians, who suppressed shamanism, should be converted into a shaman mask. Galanin also talked other paper masks he had made and how they were masks by a first nations person that showed no signs of first nations culture.

Other projects he discussed involved embedding tourist-trade masks in a wall covered with wallpaper that depicted idealized pictures of 19th century life and another in which the same type of masks were covered in Chinoserie. In a pair of videos, he had a traditional dancer (or an approximation of one) and a modern dancer moving to the same traditional song. In yet another series of work, he gave his version of the highly idealized photos of Edward Curtis: naked women with masks added in a graphics editor.

Meanwhile, ten meters from the podium where he stood was his contribution to the Bill Reid Gallery’s Continuum show: A version of Bill Reid’s “Raven and First Men” rendered by a chainsaw. Galanin was seeing his version of the famous sculpture for the first time, because he had outsourced the work – as he does much of his work.

The outsourcing is a commentary on commercialism, but I also had the sense that for Galanin what matters is not the actual work so much as the concept. Apparently, he sees his role as that of impresario, rather than as an artist who necessarily creates works with his own hand.

Having been a grad student in an English department of a major university, I am tolerably well-versed in such approaches to art. Nor do I find anything in Galanin’s social commentary with which I disagree.

But I wonder if I am missing something, because I have never found this kind of concept art very compelling.

For one thing, it seems to have little room for something that is central to my own appreciation of art – the enjoyment of craft, of sheer artistic excellence. Part of this lack may be that it does not delve deeply into tradition, so it has no standards to judge skill by. But the major reason for the lack seems to be that, when you are making a comment, craft becomes unimportant or perhaps a distraction.

Moreover, when you are commenting on commercialism, too much craft is probably out of place. If anything, your message is stronger if an object shows a lack of craft.

This situation helps create another problem: most concept art, including Galanin’s, is like a symphony of a single note. If your ideal is the “well-made object” of Bill Reid’s aesthetics, then viewers can return to it many times, and even discover something new after the first viewing. In comparison, concept art seems simple and to offer few reasons to return to it. Once you have grasped the message – which is often simple enough that you can reduce it to a single sentence, or at least a rather short paragraph – nothing is left to appreciate. Concept art seems to be unambiguous and unsubtle by nature, and, consequently, not very interesting.

In this respect, it is interesting to compare Galanin’s chainsaw Bill Reid knockoff with Mike Dangeli’s ridicule mask, which is also in the Continuum show. Where Galanin’s “Raven and the First Immigrants” seems one-dimensional, Dangeli has reached into his cultural history to bring an old concept into the future: just as the ridicule masks of the past were public announcements of a wrong, so Dangeli’s is a declaration of the wrongs suffered from the first nations. Dangeli’s mask is every bit as social or political as Galanin’s sculpture, but where Galanin’s sculpture seems facile, Dangeli’s mask is ambiguous and complex. And I doubt it is a coincidence that Dangeli is throughly involved in preserving and reviving his culture while Galanin sounds like a typical deracinated intellectual.

But such issues are a matter of taste. Regardless of what I think of Galanin’s work, I have to admit that the very fact that it takes the form that it does illustrates the diversity of Northwest Coast art and proves it a living tradition. And that by itself, I suspect, is something of value.

Read Full Post »

Invalid arguments

Posted in Bruce Byfield, composition, education, essay writing, invalid arguments, logical fallacies, Personal, teaching, writing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on October 23, 2009| 2 Comments »

(The following is a handout from my days of teaching first year composition at university. It is meant to be a very basic introduction to the complicated study of logical fallacies. Anyone who finds it useful can reproduce it, so long as they give me credit for it)

For thousands of years, people have been cataloging invalid arguments. These are arguments are invalid largely because they are illogical. That does not mean that they cannot be extremely effective; the associational fallacy, for example, is the basis of a good deal of advertising. But the illogic does mean that they should not be accepted in an essay, which is meant to be the construction of a logical structure of ideas.

Over-Generalization:
Too large a conclusion is drawn from too specific evidence.
Example: Three regional airlines have just gone bankrupt, and many of the larger lines have discontinued flights on certain routes. The North American commercial transporta­tion system is in chaos.
Airlines are not the only form of commercial transportation, and bankruptcies and discontinued routes might not be enough to justify calling the result “chaos.”

Over-Simplification:
Too many considerations are left out for the conclusion to be valid.
Example: Getting a good grade in English is easy. All you have to do is write essays of the required length and repeat the teacher’s opinion.
Grammar and punctuation, structure, and even original thought are also factors in getting a good grade.

Either/Or:
Only two extreme positions are acknowledged, and no alternatives or mixed positions. Sometimes called “the excluded middle.”
Examples:
a.) America: love it or leave it (a statement made by political conservatives in the 1960s)
b.)What do you want: good grammar or good taste? (a slogan once used by Winston cigarettes)
You can criticize your country and still want to live there, and good grammar has no relation to good taste, so it can hardly be its opposite.

Post hoc ergo procter hoc (Latin, “after this, therefore that”)
Because one event occurs after another, it must be caused by the second event.
Example: I carry a gun so I won’t be robbed. It must work. After I was robbed a year ago, I started carrying a gun, and I haven’t been robbed since.
From this statement alone, you can’t be sure of any cause or effect. The speaker may not be going to the same parts of town as before, or maybe they have just been lucky.

Non sequitur (Latin, “it does not follow”)
No logic exists between two parts of an argument
Examples:
a.) “I made the decision myself, because if we listened to experts, we’d have a tyranny of expertise, and then where would we be?” (John Fraser, former Minister of Fisheries)
b.) “I couldn’t have kicked that girl to death. I wear soft shoes” (a murder’s explanation of why he was innocent)
Why should Fraser insist on making the decision when the whole point of experts is to have someone with advice worth listening to? Similarly, you can still kick with soft shoes – or even when you’re barefoot.

False Analogy
A poor choice of metaphors or of similar situations.
Examples:
a.) Some people cannot be educated. You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.
b.) A well-run office is like a machine. You should be able to replace people without disturbing the office’s efficiency, just as you can replace a bolt or a gear in a machine.
You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, because silk isn’t made of pigskin, but it’s not clear that people are that inflexible.
As for an office being like a machine, every organization has an informal organization that compensates for problems with the official organization. For instance, a receptionist may compensate for a company officer’s inability to keep to deadlines. Replace that receptionist, and the office may become disorganized.

Ad Hominem (Latin, “to the person”)
Attacking the person who holds the argument, not the argument itself.
Examples:
a.) People who complain about the conduct of Cabinet Ministers have a vested interest in attacking the government.
b.) Ignore what teachers tell you about writing. They’re all frustrated journalists and novelists who aren’t good enough to compete in the commercial market.
Both these statements may be true or false. But, either way, they do no mean that the attack isn’t valid or that their advice isn’t worth following.

Ad Populum (Latin, “to the population”)
An argument that appeals to popular prejudice or belief.
Examples:
a.) Canadians have worked too hard to see their jobs stolen by recent immigrants, or, even worse, to support them when they go on welfare or unemployment.
b.) Everyone is entitled to an opinion.
The first example tries to appeal to anti-immigration prejudice, the second to the popular wisdom of a cliché. Neither replaces a reasoned argument.

Associational Fallacy
A position is made attractive by who holds it – either a famous person, or people with desirable qualities.
Example: I have no crystal ball. But based on our previous mailings, I’m willing to go out on a limb and make a prediction –
Of all the people who receive this invitation, only a very special group will select accept.
You can easily spot them in any crowd. The young in mind, no matter what their age. Eternally curious. Open to new ideas. Alert to future possibilities. Those fortunate few who didn’t stop growing – intellectually – the day they left school. (a magazine subscription offer in the mail)
The implication is that, if you subscribe, you will prove yourself open-minded and curious, too.

Appeal to Authority
A position must be correct because of who holds it. Alternatively, some greater force such as God or a natural order may be mentioned. Note that this has nothing to do with citing who you got an idea from.
Examples:
a.) Biology is destiny. Women must be dependent on men.
b.) It is historically inevitable that capitalism give way to socialism.
Here, “biology” and “historical inevitability” are represented as greater than human forces with which no one can argue.

Circular Argument
An argument in which the first statement depends on the second, and the second on the first.
Example: There are no drafts of the last half of the poem because Shelley never finished it. If he had finished it, we would have had the drafts.
Besides being faulty reasoning in other ways (the drafts could have been lost), this argument simply goes round and round.

Dormitive Explanation
Similar to a circular argument, the second statement simply repeats the first one – bu tthe repetition is disguised because of a change in wording.
Examples:
a.) Opium puts people to sleep because it contains a dormitive principle.
b.) Ted Bundy killed young girls without remorse because he was a sociopath with a disturbed libido.
“Dormitive” is an adjective that refers to sleep, and a sociopath does things without remorse.

Value Judgment
A position is attacked or defended because of its moral or ethical qualities.
Examples:
a.) That is an evil position to hold.
b.) My plan is simply common sense.
Arguments are supposed to be about logic. The morality or ethics of them are irrelevant.

Equivocation
A word or phrase is repeated, but with a different meaning each time.
Examples:
a.) The law is clear on this point. You can’t argue against it any more than you can argue against the law of gravity.
b.) Since evolution is just a theory, my theory about the origins of life are just as good as any biologist’s.
You can’t argue against gravity because it is a description of how the universe works, but the laws of a country are made by humans and regularly argued. Similarly, a theory is just below a law in science – a position that best explains the evidence – while a “theory” in ordinary conversation is just an opinion.

Confusion of Logical Types
A logical type is a level of organization. For example, a body is of a higher logical type than an organ like the liver, and an organ is of a higher logical type than a cell. You cannot compare or contrast different logical types because they create the absurdity of the parts of something being discussed as equal to the thing itself.
Example:
a.) The needs of the individual are more important than the needs of society.
b.) Ignore the details and concentrate on the larger picture.
Give too much priority to either the individual’s or society’s needs, and you are likely to have trouble. In much the same way, the larger picture is composed of details, so you cannot ignore them.

Read Full Post »

The Vancouver 2010 Aboriginal Art Exhibition

Posted in Aaron Nelson-Moody, aboriginal art, Alano Edzerza, art, art exhibits, British Columbia, Bruce Byfield, Corrine Hunt, Dean Heron, First Nations art, Northwest Coast Art, olympics, Personal, Vancouver, Vancouver 2010 Aboriginal Art Exhibition, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 18, 2009| 4 Comments »

I’m not looking forward to the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver. I never watch sports, and I’m concerned about the costs, traffic, and the virtual declaration of martial law during the games. The fact that I once dreamed of being in the Olympics myself only makes me angrier at the travesty that they have become.

Still, I could almost reconcile myself to the games for the sake of all the First Nations art commissioned for them. Some of that art was on display this weekend at the Aboriginal Art Exhibition at Canada Place this weekend, and I thoroughly enjoyed it – even if the lack of organization at the event seems ominous if it is a foretaste of how the games themselves will be run.

Being appreciative of the commissioned art is something you can file under No-Brainer. I mean, what’s not to like about the art? There’re medals with Corrine Hunt designs, commemorative coins by Jody Broomfield. The snowboarding pavilion at Cypress Bowl will have a wall graced with a new work by Dean Heron. GM Place will have a new work by Alano Edzerza, Nat Bailey Stadium a new work by Aaron Nelson-Moody, and the list goes on and on.

After fumbling badly by making the symbol of the game the inukshuk – a symbol that has nothing to do with British Columbia, much less Vancouver – the games organizers have had the sense to commission locally, focusing on less established artists and on members of the Salish nation, whose territory the Vancouver venues are on. I understand that some 45 works of public art will be added to the Lower Mainland as a result of the games, and I consider that an unalloyed good.

Sadly, though, the Olympic organizers fumbled again in their first efforts to bring most of these works to the public. The display was almost completely unpublicized except for newspaper stories just before the event and some Internet transmission. Even then, it was called an exhibition, so that most people arrived unaware that most of the work on display was for sale – an oversight that bitterly disappointed the artists who had taken tables and paid the exorbitant prices charged for parking at Canada Place.

Even worse, the management of the event was haphazard. I heard artists complain that they were unable to set up for credit or debit cards, and the rumor was that the one bank machine in the exhibit hall required a substantial surcharge to use.

And perhaps the worst thing was that, in order to fill up the hall, the organizers seem to have let anyone exhibit who cared to pay for the table. As a result, many tables displayed tourist junk that did not belong in the same exhibit as the commissioned artists.

For me, the incompetence of the organizing was summed up by the sight of two singers on the stage gamely belting out songs to rows of empty chairs, and a snack bar that had closed down at least two hours before the end of the show. Meanwhile, the exhibitors were strolling around talking to each other.

Such poor planning undermines the celebration of the artists. My impression is that the exhibition organizers couldn’t have cared less if the artists were treated with respect.

Perhaps the organizers can learn, but if this is how they put on such a relatively small event, then we should expect chaos during the games themselves. I might be lured downtown to see the aboriginal market at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre, but I, for one, plan to spend the three weeks of the games bunkered down safely in Burnaby, far away from the insanity.

Read Full Post »

Byfieldology

Posted in Bruce Byfield, Personal, Uncategorized, tagged , , on October 15, 2009| Leave a Comment »

This Facebook meme sounded interesting, so I decided to take the time to answer it:

***********FOODOLOGY******
What is your salad dressing of choice?
Oil and vinegar. They not only enhance the taste without smothering it, but they are low-fat.

What is your favorite sit-down restaurant?
Well, it has to be a sit-down restaurant, because I don’t touch fast food. I like Rasputin’s (although I have to be careful not to have too many different types of dumplings and ignore all the other choices), and the Afghan Horseman. When I’m in Dunbar, I like to treat myself to vegetable pakora and buttered chicken at Handi. And give me any Greek restaurant and I’ll be happy.

What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of?
I have a bagel from Solly’s every morning for breakfast. They are real bagels, not pieces of bread shaped like bagels, and they have enough variations that I never tire of them.

What are your pizza toppings of choice?
Spinach, capicolla (provided it’s the real thing and not just ham covered with pepper), Gorgonzola and any cheese besides mozzarella. But the crust is just as important; give me a dry oven-baked one or I’ll pass.

What do you like to put on your toast?
Butter, and nothing else.

***********TECHNOLOGY*****
How many televisions are in your house?
One – and I feel a little ashamed of that, so it’s hidden in a cabinet. But I’m not going to sit at my computer desk to watch DVDs. I spend too much time there already.

What color is your cellphone?
I don’t carry a cell phone. If I’m out doing errands or wandering, that’s my own time, and I don’t care to be disturbed. I figure that very few things will be so important that they can’t wait for a few hours.

Do you have an iPod?
No. iPods don’t support the free (and superior) Ogg Vorbis format. Besides, the Sansa players have more features and better sound quality for a much lower price.

***************BIOLOGY****
Are you right-handed or left-handed?
Left. I figure that this simple fact gave me a head start at independent thinking. When you’re left-handed, you learn early to translate physical instructions so that you can do them.

What is the last heavy item you lifted?
The new stacked washer and dryer – although I suppose it was more of a drag than a lift.

Have you ever been knocked unconscious?
No, although I felt as though my whole skeleton shook a couple of times when I was tackled while playing high school rugby.

********BULLOLOGY******
If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
Not really. I probably wouldn’t believe the prediction anyway. Or, if I did, it would become a self-fulfilling prophecy, because I’d be defiant and get careless.

If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
I’m used to the name I have, for better or worse, and couldn’t be bothered. But, if I did change it, I would find something that allowed for lots of variations so I would have a choice.

Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?
Yes, diluted 2:1 in water.

**************FAVORITOLOGY****************
Season?
Mid-spring and early autumn. The temperatures are decent without being uncomfortable, and I like the signs of change.

Holiday?
My birthday or my partner’s, because we try to do some thing interesting and go out to dinner.

Day of the week?
No favorites. Since I freelance, I work irregular hours and often work weekends or into the evening, so the days of the week don’t mean much to me.

Month?
May and September.

***********CURRENTOLOGY*****************
Missing someone?
I work from home. At times, I would even appreciate seeing anyone, just for a change.

Mood?
Pleasantly busy.

What are you listening to?
Ray Wylie Hubbard’s “Snake Farm” (it just sounds nasty).

Current worry?
What have you got? I have a well-developed imagination, so I can find half a dozen things to worry about before breakfast. I usually don’t let any of them get to me, though.

***************RANDOMOLOGY*****************
First place you went this morning?
To the bathroom to shave.

What was the last movie you saw?
I can’t remember (it’s been a slow year). But it probably would have been science fiction or fantasy.

Do you smile often?
Yes, if grinning counts. I grin when I’m enjoying myself, when I hear or see something I appreciate, when I’m nervous, and even when I’m angry. I have a different grin for each of these occasions.

***************OTHER-OLOGY*****************
How many pairs of flip flops do you own?
None.

Last time you had a run-in with the cops?
I keep away from cops. They’re like F. Scott Fitzgerald’s rich: they’re different from you and I, and I don’t approve of the difference.

Last person you talked to?
My partner, as she came in the door from doing errands.

Last person you hugged?
My partner.

Do you always answer your phone?
Yes, although I often hang up quickly if it’s someone trying to sell me something. I get calls from around the world, and I wouldn’t want to miss them.

It’s four in the morning and you get a phone call (or text message), who is it?
A wrong number, or someone with an emergency.

If you could change your eye color what would it be?
I would want my eyes to be greener than they are.

Do you own a digital camera?
Yes. I use it most often to take pictures of art for insurance purposes.

Have you ever had a pet fish?
No. I’m a parrot person.

Favorite Christmas song
I admire Sileas’ version of “Thomas the Rhymer” on “File Under Christmas.” If that doesn’t count, then something medieval and not often heard. I could list far more Christmas songs that I hope never to hear again.

What’s on your wish list for your birthday?
A new piece of Northwest Coast art.

Can you do push ups?
Yes, I do fifty every day unless I’m sick.

Are you excited or nervous about the future?
Neither. I can only do so much to influence it, so I cultivate a stoicness about the uncertainty.

Do you have any saved texts?
No.

Have you ever been in a car accident?
No.

Do you have an accent?
Yes. It’s a western Canadian accent with the vowels, combined with a mid-Atlantic accent picked up second hand from my father’s Yorkshire. The combination makes people very unclear where I come from; over the years, they’ve guessed Ireland, Iceland, and Jamaica.

What is the last movie to make you cry?
Can’t remember. I could tell you what music did, though.


Plans tonight?
I’ll do some more writing, eat, then watch one episode of “Primeval” and another of “Tru Calling.”

Have you ever felt like you hit rock bottom?
Yes, but I won’t talk about it here.

Name three things you bought yesterday?
Two 18 karat gold rings by Gwaai Edenshaw, spinach, and a tamale dinner special at a Mexican restaurant.

Have you ever been given roses?
Yes, by my partner on my 21st birthday.

Met someone who changed your life?
Dozens of people have introduced me to things I might never have discovered on my own. But I won’t mention the people who have changed my life for the worst because I won’t give them the satisfaction, and I won’t mention those who have changed my life for the better because I wouldn’t want to embarrass them.

Name two people who might complete this.
Who knows?

Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?
Without hesitation. The chance to see different periods would be irresistible to me. I wouldn’t want to see wars or great social upheavals so much as daily life. I’d like to do things like hear Samuel Taylor Coleridge deliver a lecture, or see the first performance of Shakespeare’s plays, or attend an Althing in early Iceland and the coronation of Charles II.

Do you have any tattoos/piercings?
No. Both are very permanent, and I would quickly get bored with them and regret them.

Does anyone love you?
I hope so, but that’s private.

Would you be a pirate?
Only if I could be one like William Dampier, the subject of “A Pirate of Exquisite Mind.” Dampier was a pirate who was also a naturalist, and a writer, and introduced a number of words into the English language.

What songs do you sing in the shower?
Well, it would be in the bath, and it would be whatever song I woke up with in my mind (I wake up with some song at least one day out of three, if not more often)

Ever had someone sing to you?
Only if “Happy Birthday” counts.

Have you held hands with anyone today?
No, although a parrot put two toes around my finger and held it there for a time.

Who was the last person you took a picture of?
Can’t remember, which tells you how rarely I do so.

Are most of the friends in your life new or old?
New.

What is one thing that scares you?
Not knowing what is happening, and being misunderstood. But both have happened often enough that I can live with them, even if I dislike them.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »