One of the downsides (and there are several) of having more than one blog is there is a danger of accidentally co-mingling posts, which is what I did on Monday of this week. I intended to enter the post you see below this one on this blog but mistakenly entered it onto The WWIG Blog. It's here now.
I haven't been posted for quite a while but haven't been wasting my time either. I have spent almost entire days working on getting my web gallery ready for introduction to my totally indifferent public (ed., in case you don't recognize it, this is attempted sardonic humor). Getting the images prepared properly has been a long and tedious process, but entering them has been very daunting indeed. Using WordPress software is entirely Terra Incognita for me and at this point I have to memorize the steps rather than understanding the process. The problem with this approach is that my memory often fails and to get back on track I have to resort to unappealing solutions like calling someone for help-- about as appealing as asking for directions from strangers or at a gas station when I'm lost while travelling. My other time-killing project is that I have been trying to learn and use ProShow Gold to make a slide show. The slide show part isn't too hard but syncing the music has been a very difficult task. I initially had some help from my friend Ben Stern, but one can only lean on others so much. I'm floundering but should be able to make it work eventually. I snowed here yesterday and the garden is completely covered. Good! This means I don't have to look at the mess and start thinking with dread of spring cleanup.
Tomorrow Susann and I will be going to New York to attend the wedding of her nephew Rick Ordower. Allison, Dave and Damian will be there, but neither Brad nor Charlie will-- one is being exposed to radiation in Japan --albeit low grade-- and the other is being exposed to Hamas rockets in Israel. I'll be there for 4 days and hope to resume blogging when I return.
Byron
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Thinking About The Mythic American West
There isn't going to be anything original posted today. I need to work on getting images ready for my website gallery which was started but has sat dormant for several weeks. I hope to have it running this week. It won't be anywhere near final form but the main structural elements will be in place. However, I have some things written by others which may be pertinent to things that I have or will be posting about here. One cannot look into the vast historical literature of the Great Plains much less the American West and not encounter the Turner Hypothesis:
Frederick Jackson Turner's 1893 essay "The Significance of the Frontier in American History," presented in Chicago before the American Historical Association, is one of the most important pieces of nineteenth century writing about the west. Turner's "frontier hypothesis"--that American development could be explained by the existence of an area of free land, its continuous recession, and the advance of American settlement westward--had widespread implications for historiography, sociology, literary criticism, and politics. Turner argued that the West--rather than the proslavery South or the antislavery North--was the most influential among American regions and that the frontier--rather than an imported European heritage--was responsible for the novelty of American attitudes and institutions. Significantly, his hypothesis emphasized geographical determinism, agricultural settlement, and the affirmation of democracy, all of which can be traced back to the myth of the garden of the world. Turner shared this myth's erroneous judgments about the economic forces that had come to dominate 19th-century life. His essay expressed the aspirations of a people rather than their actual situation. From Virgin Land By Eric GislasonJohn Steinbeck posited much the same idea, but in touching and lyrical way in the 1933 short story The Leader of the People.
"... I tell those old stories, but they're not what I want to tell. I only know how I want people to fell when I tell them. It wasn't the Indians that were important, nor adventures, nor even getting out here. It was a whole bunch of people made into one big crawling beast. And I was the head. It was westering and westering... When we saw the mountains at last, we cried-- all of us. But it wasn't getting here that mattered, it was movement and westering... The westering was as big as God, and the slow steps that made the movement pile up and piled up until the Continent was crossed. The we came down to the sea, and it was done..."
When Jody spoke, Grandfather stared and looked down at him. "Maybe I could lead the people some day," Jody said.
The old man smiled. "There's no place to go. There's the ocean to stop you. There's a line of old men along the shore hating the ocean because it stopped them."
"In boats I might, sir".
"No place to go, Jody. Every place is taken. But that's not the worst-- no, not the worst. Westering has died out of the people... It's all done. Your father is right. It is finished."
We'll come back to this poignant passage in subsequent posts. In the meantime I want to let you know about some of the books read as I've begun to try to understand what I have seen and experience on the Southern Great Plains.I read Grassland by Richard Manning 10 or 12 years ago and remember it as being very informative about a subject I knew little about. I need to reread it.
Methland: The Death and Life of an American Small Town is shocking and, I think essential reading for anyone wanting to comprehend little known changes occurring in small towns in the heartland. It is set in Olwein Iowa which is quite close to La Crosse.
Where the Buffalo Roam: Restoring America's Great Plains describes the activities and ideas of a Rutgers University couple who have been relentless proponents of The Buffalo Commons.
movement, social trends, and this blog.
Byron
Sunday, March 20, 2011
More About Detroit Photography
For anyone seeking more photodocumentary information about Detroit this book may be of interest:
There is on page 49 a very interesting photo taken from a roof top showing perhaps 30 or 40 blocks of urban landscape where one can see large patches denuded of any buildings. No wonder that there have been proposals to clear large swathes of what was once a thriving city and encourage that the land be used for agriculture.
My favorite photoblog about Detroit is dETROITFUNK. Highly reccommended.
Byron
My favorite photoblog about Detroit is dETROITFUNK. Highly reccommended.
Byron
The Detroitification of Small Town America: Part 1
DETROITIFICATION: A work coined by the author especially for this thread.
Many photographers have been drawn to Detroit in recent years. One blogger who isn't shy about posting images of what has transpired in this once great American city has perhaps had second thoughts and has (hypocritically) used the term Detroit Porn. I've taken some pictures of the abandoned or burned out wrecks of residential and commercial structures that occupy much of this forlorn blight-ridden city, but probably won't do more because this vein has been fairly well mined by others, among them George Bower. George is a retired physician and inveterate photographer of the urban disaster that is Detroit; and I have been fortunate to be on his e-mail distribution list for about 3 years. As I went through my files to select some of his images for this post, I was struck by his fantastic eye for color and for graphic detail. On the other hand, I experienced an actual wave of nausea on being confronted by these images of what has happened to the city that I knew and for which I had so much affection 6o years ago--not such a long time in terms of urban history-- which, in itself, is a lesson about the vulnerability of our urban environments. Here is a sample of some of Georges images which effectively depict what I have chosen to call Detroitification. I suspect that Detroit is only the harbinger-- the first and best known of American cities where the decay and ruin is so wide-spread that it is beyond reclamation.
Many photographers have been drawn to Detroit in recent years. One blogger who isn't shy about posting images of what has transpired in this once great American city has perhaps had second thoughts and has (hypocritically) used the term Detroit Porn. I've taken some pictures of the abandoned or burned out wrecks of residential and commercial structures that occupy much of this forlorn blight-ridden city, but probably won't do more because this vein has been fairly well mined by others, among them George Bower. George is a retired physician and inveterate photographer of the urban disaster that is Detroit; and I have been fortunate to be on his e-mail distribution list for about 3 years. As I went through my files to select some of his images for this post, I was struck by his fantastic eye for color and for graphic detail. On the other hand, I experienced an actual wave of nausea on being confronted by these images of what has happened to the city that I knew and for which I had so much affection 6o years ago--not such a long time in terms of urban history-- which, in itself, is a lesson about the vulnerability of our urban environments. Here is a sample of some of Georges images which effectively depict what I have chosen to call Detroitification. I suspect that Detroit is only the harbinger-- the first and best known of American cities where the decay and ruin is so wide-spread that it is beyond reclamation.
These images have been posted with the kind permission of the creator and copyright holder George Bower. Please direct any questions about them to bannis4@centurtely.net.
Byron
Saturday, March 19, 2011
*Thinking: Too Much of a Good Thing?
Please note that the the title of this entry is preceded by an *. From now on I am going to give fair warning by using an asterisk prior to the title when the posts consist of personal musings which may not be of interest to many, if not most, of my readers. Proceed with caution. Why am I getting up close and personal? No really good reason except that I feel a need to do so, and, well ...what the hell, it's my blog... I can do what I want.
One of the aspects of my the long car trips that I have taken in recent years that have been a major plus is the ample opportunity to do lots of thinking. Parenthetically, this raises the question of why it seems that I don't have time to do serious pondering during my day to day life at home; to which there is no answer.Some of the things I thought about were important to me, weighty, and pertinent to this blog; some are vexing and often understandable, at least for me; some are trivial and really beneath serious contemplation; and some, particularly those topics related to politics and social issues, are, as in the well-known quote from Macbeth "...a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
My ambivalent feelings about thinking, perhaps the more appropriate word is rumination, came to mind today because of the difficulty I am having blogging about some of the complex topics I wrestled with during my trip and am still having difficulty giving form and substance to, especially in writing in a public space. All of this came to the fore this morning when I read a review of a recent Broadway revival of Tom Stoppard's play Arcadia, by Terry Teachout and encountered this: "it is an entrancingly clever whodunit for eggheads whose underlying purpose is to dramatize the central problem of modernity: How are we to live our lives if it turns out that they have no ultimate meaning?" Indeed!
If you, dear Reader, are at this moment scratching your head and uttering something like "what the hell is he going on about, it's just an insignificant travel blog" or words to that effect, I want you to know that I am not in the midst of some existential crisis. This is, I think, mostly an old man's pastime. At a certain age, many of us really begin to understand something we have always known about not really experienced: the realization that time is truly running out and that there is unfinished business to be contemplated and dealt with.
Probably few of you are old enough to remember the days when PBS was actually filled with good content, before the Yanni Concerts, or the dusting off yet another tired musical act from the '60s (don't you just get a tingly feeling when you watch video of some post middle aged dweebs at a Peter, Paul, and Mary Reunion Concert waving Bic lighters- cells phones these days, of course) or yet another documentary retelling of some aspect of America's horrible sordid past. Anyhow, back in those early days of public television, I chanced to see a performance of a Medieval Morality Play. The details elude me, but, if memory serves,
the main character was Everyman, the theme was redemption from sin and the elements, or was it the characters, were I believe Confession, Absolution, Penance, and Grace (Susann says that grace would not have been included because it's a Protestant thing). During my trip I attempted to remember the details of the play and, more important, the essence while contemplating my wish to make some amends. Frankly, revisiting the past, much less remaking it, is not easy. Whether or not doing so is rewarding remains to determined.
One of the aspects of my the long car trips that I have taken in recent years that have been a major plus is the ample opportunity to do lots of thinking. Parenthetically, this raises the question of why it seems that I don't have time to do serious pondering during my day to day life at home; to which there is no answer.Some of the things I thought about were important to me, weighty, and pertinent to this blog; some are vexing and often understandable, at least for me; some are trivial and really beneath serious contemplation; and some, particularly those topics related to politics and social issues, are, as in the well-known quote from Macbeth "...a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
My ambivalent feelings about thinking, perhaps the more appropriate word is rumination, came to mind today because of the difficulty I am having blogging about some of the complex topics I wrestled with during my trip and am still having difficulty giving form and substance to, especially in writing in a public space. All of this came to the fore this morning when I read a review of a recent Broadway revival of Tom Stoppard's play Arcadia, by Terry Teachout and encountered this: "it is an entrancingly clever whodunit for eggheads whose underlying purpose is to dramatize the central problem of modernity: How are we to live our lives if it turns out that they have no ultimate meaning?" Indeed!
If you, dear Reader, are at this moment scratching your head and uttering something like "what the hell is he going on about, it's just an insignificant travel blog" or words to that effect, I want you to know that I am not in the midst of some existential crisis. This is, I think, mostly an old man's pastime. At a certain age, many of us really begin to understand something we have always known about not really experienced: the realization that time is truly running out and that there is unfinished business to be contemplated and dealt with.
Probably few of you are old enough to remember the days when PBS was actually filled with good content, before the Yanni Concerts, or the dusting off yet another tired musical act from the '60s (don't you just get a tingly feeling when you watch video of some post middle aged dweebs at a Peter, Paul, and Mary Reunion Concert waving Bic lighters- cells phones these days, of course) or yet another documentary retelling of some aspect of America's horrible sordid past. Anyhow, back in those early days of public television, I chanced to see a performance of a Medieval Morality Play. The details elude me, but, if memory serves,
the main character was Everyman, the theme was redemption from sin and the elements, or was it the characters, were I believe Confession, Absolution, Penance, and Grace (Susann says that grace would not have been included because it's a Protestant thing). During my trip I attempted to remember the details of the play and, more important, the essence while contemplating my wish to make some amends. Frankly, revisiting the past, much less remaking it, is not easy. Whether or not doing so is rewarding remains to determined.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Theme Music for the Tour
Hila wanted to know the theme music for my recent trip out seeing America. Before starting I thought it would be Graceland, as in this YouTube video:
However as I approached the Mississippi Delta, I hoped that it would be something like this:
Or, better,when I arrived at the legendary crossroads, this:
.
Didn't happen. Now that I'm home I'll have to think of something. Stay tuned.
Byron
However as I approached the Mississippi Delta, I hoped that it would be something like this:
Or, better,when I arrived at the legendary crossroads, this:
.
Didn't happen. Now that I'm home I'll have to think of something. Stay tuned.
Byron
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Japan II
I arrived home during the early morning hours on Monday after approximately a 16 hour marathon drive across the length of Illinois-- and it is a very long State-- as well as portions of Missouri, Iowa and Wisconsin. I've been preoccupied with getting my life reordered since. One happy note is that I've discovered that I didn't damage or lose a single piece of photo gear, which is, I think, a first for trips like this one. I've already ordered a new pair of glasses to replace the ones I lost in Louisiana.
As you know, the news from Japan becomes more distressing every day. Charlie, Kaori and Hannah and our concerns about the uncertainty for those in Japan preoccupies us. Like the Japanese people themselves we can only wait and cope. We realize that our worries, while very legitimate to us, are minor compared to those whose live have been so tragically effected by the disaster.
We again want everyone who has expressed concern and extended wishes for the well being of our family to know how grateful we are for your kindness and good will.
Byron
As you know, the news from Japan becomes more distressing every day. Charlie, Kaori and Hannah and our concerns about the uncertainty for those in Japan preoccupies us. Like the Japanese people themselves we can only wait and cope. We realize that our worries, while very legitimate to us, are minor compared to those whose live have been so tragically effected by the disaster.
We again want everyone who has expressed concern and extended wishes for the well being of our family to know how grateful we are for your kindness and good will.
Byron
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