Rhyme or Reason? I choose… rhyme!
October 27, 2008
by Natalie Jankowski
The Silent Observer
The women have just finished and we now have a break
To wander the Hefter Center down by the lake.
I got some coffee and a brownie too
Then went back to my seat to decide what to do.
I looked to my left, I looked to my right.
Everyone was talking; cheery and bright.
Carolee posed across the laps of three men,
Had someone snap a picture of them, and then
Tamara was in conversation, her hands speaking as much as she
Everyone was enjoying themselves; a real sense of camaraderie.
I was the Silent Observer, the only person not yakking.
Chalk it up to being a shy college student, my forwardness lacking.
So I sat and watched, from my student point of view.
This side of the academic world, to me, was quite new.
It was times like this, I wish my camera were handy.
To capture these moments sure would have been dandy.
Expressions of happiness, confusion, looks of deep thought danced across each face.
Candidness happening at every corner, at this precise moment in time and space.
Then Daniel chimed in and had us all circle up.
A circle would be chaos. You still want a circle? Yup!
Thus began the final discussion, tying up loose ends.
Can we achieve closure to this conference, in the few minutes that time lends?
Closure seemed possible and almost near, that is until a new discussion arose.
Students are alienated from 1968. Of this decade, they are not pros.
Is it problems in teaching or simply a generational gap?
And that’s where it ended. From a shortage of time, we had to wrap.
Richard and Tamara were just getting started in a little debate
On a topic that, for me, carried some weight.
How does one engage students about the history of 1968?
Give it to them plainly or put something unique on their plate?
I vote for unique; it needs to be something our young minds can get.
If you think that’s done by simply lecturing…HA, wanna bet?
Change like this can’t happen overnight; it needs time.
But that shall be saved for later. It is yet another ladder we must climb.
Whether we actually achieved closure is anyone’s guess.
Though all in all, the conference was a great success!
Center for 21st Century Studies, I wish you a bon anniversaire.
Here’s to another 40 years, keep up the good work with style and flare.
The Silent Observer, that is I.
And from here I bid thee goodnight and goodbye.
Where do we go from here?
October 27, 2008
By Alex Rewey
The final day of the “Since 1968” conference began bright and early at UWM’s Hefter Center on Lake Drive. At the focus in the elegantly styled conference room was the topic “Landscapes of Protest 2: New Connections.”
Whereas the previous day’s speakers looked at direct and overt spaces of protest, the first four speakers on Saturday chose to analyze in more abstract terms. Starting off the panel was University of Wisconsin-Madison professor Jeremi Suri’s presentation, “The Rise and Fall of an International Counterculture in the 1960s.” Whereas many other scholars consider the term “counterculture” to incorporate society’s fringe members, Suri proposed a rather unique addendum in mainstream figures of the time period revolting, or rather reconsidering their fundamental belief systems.
To illustrate his point, he put forth three figures and groups at the center of mainstream 60s politics. First off, Suri addressed the troubled presidency of Lyndon Johnson. Suri illustrated that near the end of his term, Johnson began to question the New Deal-style politics which had been so fundamental and essential to him early on. Suri’s second example was a bit broader, as he characterized the West German leadership of the time period as reanalyzing Cold War relations and its consequential political implications.
Suri’s third point was perhaps the one I was most familiar with, Henry Kissinger. Growing up, I heard a great deal of politics of 60s framed in terms of Kissinger’s contributions from my father. My dad used to reference the opening of China as one of the most monumental achievements of otherwise troubled times.
Yet, I found Suri’s conclusion to be the most provocative. Suri framed post ’68 as an “extended debate over what comes next.” Citing the ultimate collapse of Cold War political models (as evidenced by contemporary failures of the current administration to demonize Russian aggression in similar fashion), Suri seemed to maintain a view of today’s politics as an extended transitional period to a new fundamental model.
Despite much of the student presence at the conference diminishing to a small minority, Suri nevertheless professed that the “failure of a new order to come into existence should empower students to create a new one.”
Addressing a different kind of landscape of protest, or rather fundamental change, was Vanderbilt University’s Yoshikuni Igarashi’s presentation on Japan’s transformation from a post-war society to a rapidly changing consumer society. Using the mass proliferation of television, as well as statistics of the general distribution of wealth across the whole of society, Igarashi painted Japan’s 1968 not as a time of great social unrest, but one of great assimilation and inclusion of rural outsiders into a central Japanese city-based culture.
Backed with astonishing statistics like the Japanese poverty rate falling from around 30% in 1955, to 1% in less than fifteen years, as well the relatively high figures of Japanese television viewership, Japan’s 1968 appeared as less like small groups trying to break outside the box, but rather the box becoming big enough to incorporate nearly all viewpoints into a central culture.
For me, this was perhaps the most interesting segment of the conference. Historically isolated, Japan can be seen as unique counterpoint for the decade. It went through similarly radical changes as did many other countries of the time period, but it’s path and resulting present day identity appears wholly unique.
The final two speakers of the panel were Oxford professor Simon Prince’s presentation on the conversely volatile Northern Irish 1968, as well as scholar Dina Mahnaz Siddiqi’s discussion of on Bangladesh’s equivalent to the monumental year.
While the two presentations outlined a time of great civil unrest, they appeared a bit vague in their considerations of the particular implications of the time period. Having previously cited Prince’s immensely thorough book “Northern Ireland’s ’68,” in a paper about the sectarian conflict, I was a bit let down by the conversely topical treatment of the subject. However, his repeatedly cited line delivered in a report concerning political protesters at the time, “we have seen these sort of people at work lately all over the globe,” served as a chilling, yet fitting conclusion.
While the panel disagreed sharply over viewpoints on colonialism and post-Cold War political models, Suri very succinctly stated, “Counterculture doesn’t presume what comes next.” For me, this resonated a great deal. We are clearly in a time of great uncertainty. The world is in the process of a great shift toward the burgeoning third world. As we begin to reanalyze America’s role and identity in a global context, I believe that Suri’s depiction of mainstream politicians revolting within their own systems against those “fundamental first principles” may see resurgence. Truly anything can happen.
GIVE a man to fish; and you have fed him for a day. TEACH man to fish; and you have fed him for a lifetime.
October 27, 2008
by Natalie Jankowski
It really amazes me how many great ideas pop into my head when I’m bopping along to rap music (thank you Flo Rider, Timbaland and Joe Budden) while driving on the interstate….
During the closing discussion of the conference, as we all sat in an oddly shaped circle, the topic of teaching students about 1968 came up. It was mentioned that some in the academic world (none of whom were present today) simply throw out the 1960s, 1968 in particular, and all this decade embodies to students with the attachment of “You won’t understand [this time period]. It was our moment.” Really? If it was truly their moment, one would think that said academics would be able to articulate it in such a way, with such excitement and emotion, that their students could understand it. Instead, they merely give these young people information about the 60’s and leave them with “You won’t understand.” Lame. None of my professors have ever been like that and it is sad to think that there are some out there who are.
Another issue that was brought up involved the idea that there is something alienating about 1968 to current students. In all honesty, it is difficult to relate to a time period in which we have not lived in or experienced. The debate of my generation’s understanding of 1968 was just on the cusp of heating up when time, unfortunately, ran out. It’s too bad too. I really enjoyed listening to how the generation sitting around me viewed my own. It was very nice to hear Rose Brewer defend us by saying that my generation has a clear understanding of the moment. Rock on Rose!
Isn’t this a fairly common question in the world of academia: how can we get students to better understand the material and the life and culture during a certain time period? The following comes to you direct from a student who’s graduating in 56 days (but hey, who’s counting). If you, knowledgeable academics, want us, students whose minds are ready to be challenged and shaped, to better comprehend things presented in class, it must be taught in a way in which we can understand. Now, I know this will not apply to all subjects, but it is worth mentioning nonetheless. Music, television (like That 70’s Show for example), YouTube, the internet, and other aspects of modern culture that we consume are great ways to get things to us. (Even though I just questioned the poisoning effects of the media in my last post, the products of that very industry can, in fact, be great for teaching).
For me personally, to be able to understand a concept that’s beyond my years (such as Gramsci or Adorno for example), I usually need to think of or ask for a current example of that concept. Or read a play or see a theater performance involving the subject matter; that works too. I am a very visual person and have an active imagination, therefore relating things to theater is my shtick (though I may be biased because I’m currently interning at Milwaukee Rep). One can learn a lot from theater and performance art. If only I could get more people to realize that.
“We have seen what it’s like to win”
October 27, 2008
by Alex Rewey
Keynote speaker James Ferguson of Stanford University admittedly appeared as a curious coda for Since 1968. As a researcher on African nations, Ferguson himself claimed to be a bit surprised at his invitation. The way he sees it, Africa didn’t quite have a 1968. At least, they didn’t have one nearly as loud.
I must admit, growing up in post-68 America has given me quite a skewed take on Africa. I don’t presume to speak for my entire generation, but I’d venture that Africa appears to many of us as the world’s forgotten continent. Growing up in the last twenty years, we were all taught the important societal and political contributions of African Americans, but never really asked to consider the contributions of Africa to the world.
Without sounding too course, for a long time Africa appeared to me as a loosely knit coalition of failed states, seemingly forever broken by the heavy boot print of colonialism and at the extreme end, perhaps too far gone to adequately save in our lifetimes. It sounds crass and insensitive I know, but honestly, when’s the last time you read an immensely positive story written about Africa? Western media appears obsessed with Africa’s failures over its strengths.
Yet, it is precisely for this reason that I found Ferguson’s presentation so thought provoking. Framing his discussion in the proliferation of “philosophical anti-humanism” in the wake of the “disillusionment of 1968,” Ferguson put forth a few nations in Sub-Saharan Africa as examples. Ferguson stated that the nation of Zambia, having been recently declared independence from the United Kingdom in 1964, instituted several reforms aimed toward “socialism of a distinctly African kind.”
Based in part on traditional African societal values, political figures were initially called to foreswear economic exploitation or business profiteering of any kind. Ferguson also noted that many of Zambia residents felt that so-called “advanced societies had a lot learn.”
Ferguson very succinctly put it, “progressive, man-centered society was Africa’s gift to the world.” For me, as well as several members in attendance, this was somewhat of a revelation. The traditional western view of the third world centers largely on presumptions of advancement, as well as philanthropic aid to the third world. What Ferguson was suggesting is that much of the progressive resistance to traditional leadership that was occurring at the time mirrored closely the kind of traditional values and reforms put forward in what we might consider to be some of the world’s poorest and least developed countries. According to Ferguson, the flow of progress may run opposite to what is generally accepted.
Noting the rather tragic fate of some of these countries in the aftermath of violent conflict both outside and within their own nations, Ferguson nevertheless professed, “we’ve seen what it’s like to win,” championing the end of Apartheid in South Africa as a contrary outcome to the myriad of African tragedies.
The forgotten continent of Africa may still seem like a tragic epicenter for a great deal of global problems, yet Ferguson’s testimony of its inherent strengths and even in some cases, triumphs over the so-called “western world,” proved entirely contradictory to media coverage. In the end, I couldn’t help but reconsider what I have been told for so many years. Colonialism and external exploitation has indeed taken a heavy toll, scarring the continent in ways nearly too immense to fully comprehend, yet Ferguson nevertheless maintained that there still exists hope in the traditional ways. As an increasingly global generation, we cannot, and should not forget Africa’s many contributions to modern though, and its essential role in the world.
Are the media poison?
October 27, 2008
by Natalie Jankowski
OBSERVE:
ON VOUS INTOXIQUE! THEY’RE POISONING YOU! Being that I am a journalism and mass communication student who’s focusing on media studies, I continually look at the media with a critical eye. Mostly, I criticize because I often have trouble finding positive things to say about them as a whole. Want to know the irony of all this? I work for one of the largest media conglomerates in the world, one of the infamous “Big 5” (ok, its Disney, I’ll admit it). Do I think the media are poison? Oui. Do I think the media actually do some good in this world? Oui. What a conundrum! Let me explain.
Noit Banai showed this image during part of her talk on the public sensation in 1968 France on Saturday in the beautiful Hefter Conference Center. Speaking along with her were Ann Reynolds, Michelle Kuo and Tamara Levitz. The topics today were a bit dense for me, Tamara’s being the exception. She was the last speaker of the conference and a fabulous person to have conclude the weekend. She tied her topic in with Carolee’s and was simply a joy to listen to as she spoke in more of a speech format than lecture. This woman is awesome! But, I digress. Never fear, the topics of the day were not lost on me completely. Enter my pal Google.
After doing some translating and research on the image above, I found that it was created by Parisian students in 1968 whose intent was to highlight the power, the intoxique effect of the mass media on the public (BTW: “mouton” translates as sheep). Do we still feel this way about today’s media? It would be very interesting to see a 2008 version of this image if that would even be possible. This begs the question of, who are the media exactly?
- 1968: Journalists, photographers, broadcasters, radio DJ’s
- 2008: Everyone
Noit also quoted Marxist theorist and situationist Guy Debord: “Fragmented views of reality regroup themselves into a new unity as a separate pseudoworld that can only be looked at.” This makes me think of local news and their coverage of crime. They bombard us with the sexy, sensational stories and images of shootings, robberies, etc thus leading us to believe that crime is on the rise when in most cases the crime rates have leveled or even (shocker!) declined. But we, the naïve and gullible consumer (to some extent I include myself in that label), believe what the local reporters tell us because they must know what they’re talking about, they’re the news media! As harsh as it may be, I would equate local news as being the poisoning media. I rarely watch local news and if I do, I usually get up and leave the room after a few minutes before I start to critique them. Welcome to the life of a media studies student. I am now stepping down from my soapbox.
Anyone else find it ironic that television is on the derriere?
Ghosts of the Not-So-Distant Past
October 26, 2008
by Alex Rewey
The second day of the Center for 21st Century Studies’ 40th anniversary conference “Since 1968” began with moderator Aneesh Aneesh introducing a crop of speakers set to “stretch the conceptual limits of 1968.”
That being said, Central European University-Budapest professor Judit Bodnar started with the subject of the “right to the city,” as illustrated most literally by the citizens of Prague during the Soviet occupation of the 60s. Under the banner of the theoretical “Knowing 1968: Terms of Engagement,” Bonar retold perhaps one of the most direct examples of citizen protest that was to define the turbulent decade in the western world and elsewhere.
As Bodnar elaborated on wonderfully poignant examples of ordinary citizens renaming street signs and removing building numbers to confuse and subvert authoritarian powers, I couldn’t quite help feeling more than a little exhilarated.
As a college-age student growing up in a world much different than 1968, it is sometimes difficult to resist the exciting thrills and the romantic notion (occasionally myth) of the righteous protest. However, ours is clearly not their world. Yet, one only needs to walk around any modern university to find a multitude of young students attempting (sometimes in vain) to recapture some semblance of a similar mass movement or influence. But again, our world is a very different place. Our generation is different somehow.
Perhaps time has more clearly defined once-grey areas and, in hindsight, those times really were as monumental and dire in the moment as we now consider them to be. Or perhaps, many of my generation has lost the taste for or sustained interest in righteous fights. Yet, have we made progress? Is our world really so much better?
Nowhere did this notion appear more provocative then during the presentation by University of Minnesota professor Rose M. Brewer on “1968 and the Black Radical Tradition.” As she outlined what she considered to be a “narrow reading of the black struggle,” I couldn’t help but feel a bit at a loss to identify with such a visceral fight for what we would all consider to basic civil human rights. From the perspective of a comparatively privileged white middle class American upbringing, the concept of such a struggle honestly appeared entirely foreign to me.
Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but admire Brewer’s concept of “intersectionality” and revelations stemming from the Civil Rights Movement in correlation with current events. Particularly notable was her corollary to citizens returning to New Orleans following Hurricane Katrina as a contemporary “right to the city” as outlined by Bodnar.
Immediately shifting to a more theoretical approach was UWM emeritus professor Bernard Gendron’s presentation “Foucault’s 1968,” centering around prominent French philosopher Michel Foucault. The final speaker of the panel was the relatively young University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill professor Richard Langston who sought to explain just some of the post-Adorno thinking in Germany during the 1960s, or rather, thought “from the other side of the Rhine.”
While Gendron described a shifting focus in both Tunis and Paris toward “the politics of everyday life,” namely the places where power is truly exercised, Langston painted a conversely remorseful young German population at the time returning to older sociopolitical texts on fascism of the 1920s to address by proxy, the fascism of the 1940s under the Nazi Party. Though, I must admit, philosophy has never been my strong suit, I nevertheless found both presentations uniquely provocative and wholly timely.
Growing up post ’68, I have to say that it has never really occurred to me that there was a time when the increasingly public discourse of the places where power is exercised, such as schools, health care facilities, etc. was not at the forefront of local concern and action. This “politics of everyday life” is something I have taken for granted many times.
With Langston’s presentation, what immediately came to mind were discussions of Iraq through lenses of the Vietnam War. It’s not an entirely similar example, but I found the idea of addressing difficult current issues through considerations and painful explorations of the past uniquely poignant.
Though I write from a distinctly young perspective, I believe my generation can take a lot from the lessons and ghosts of the not-so-distant past. We are different yes, but much of what we consider normal and true stems from other times and struggles. How will history look to my generation’s own unique struggle? It’s hard to say. Yet, perhaps we can better understand our purpose and place through historical context. We are in a sense, a work in progress.
Where’s the youth movement, you ask?
October 24, 2008
by Natalie Jankowski
We’re right here! We just have yet to actually… move. To be fair, there are a select few opinionated college folk among us who try their best to get their message (political, protest or otherwise) across to us non-moving, less opinionated college folk (that’s me). But more often than not, that message gets lost in the hustle and bustle of daily life. It will take more than a stranger (or acquaintance even) spouting off their ideas about the political situation in the US or the war in Iraq or whatever the topic may be, to get us to move. What will get us to move, to act, to participate? Personalization.
In the discussion following this afternoon’s showing of Mark Tribe’s film, Port Huron Project 1-6, the question of “where are the youth?” surfaced among the academics as I, the youngest one in the room and lone student, stayed quiet and listened. Then, like a basketball hitting me in the face (just for the record, I’ve played basketball for 14 years and can guarantee that that literally would not happen…but metaphorically speaking, anything is possible), the magic quote was spoken: This generation turns to public service versus political action. Thank you, Mr. Fred Turner. BTW: He is a fabulous speaker!
Upon graduating college, two very close friends of mine decided to dedicate a year of service to the Jesuit Volunteer Corp and the Americorp. Both are politically minded and passionate about what they believe in, but don’t usually voice their beliefs to anyone but our close circle of friends or occasionally on facebook or a blog. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Their jobs with these two service organizations, while not directly political, allow them to see a different side of the political sphere, in a city unfamiliar to them (one is in Raleigh, the other in St. Louis) that’s not even remotely comparable to the Midwestern, middle class, white suburb we grew up in. Their involvement has led me to consider a form of public service after graduation as well (enter personalization!)…though not quite in the same capacity. Ask and I’ll tell, but for now, mum’s the word.
I’ve only just skimmed the surface of the experiences my two friends are undertaking, but they are not the only ones doing this; there are many more out there. And you can’t tell me that that’s not a type of movement. Even if a movement, in the most traditional sense, does not move the masses but moves a loyal few, then that, my friends, is progress.
Even though we may not be moving in exactly the way or direction you, oh wise academics, desire us to, we are moving nonetheless (even if it is the Tim Conway shuffle). So to answer your question, yes, we are here and we are listening. We will move when we are ready.
by Natalie Jankowski
The Scene:
Curtin Hall on a chilly, fall afternoon in late October.
The People:
A panel comprised of Carol Siegel, Fred Turner, Julian Bourg, Mark Tribe and moderator Joe Austin, a lecture hall filled with academics, a few students and me and my bright red wellies (aka rain boots).
The Quotes:
Desire is revolutionary.
Wouldn’t the art world suck without political art?
This generation turns to public service versus political action.
How would it feel to believe that with a few hundred or thousand people, I could change the world?
Wouldn’t it be nice if staying out all night and dancing could make the world better the next day?
1968 – Culture won, politics lost.
Sex is not the problem; it’s the solution.
The personal is political.
If you want a better world, go home and make one.
Why is there a department of war but not a department of peace?
The Reason:
One does not need to say a lot to convey meaning. The quotes above, from this afternoon’s session–1968 Film and Media –really struck me as a different way to present my experience today. I don’t think I would be doing these people and their work justice by simply summarizing the things they said today for there was a plethora of information flashing before me spoken in a vocabulary of which I am not entirely familiar with…yet. That being said, dare to be different. And I am. Quotes carry a certain power with them; one that makes the reader think, ponder and tilt their head to one side with their brow furrowed in deep thought. Ok, maybe the latter is just a Natalie-ism. After these quotes were spoken, I started to wonder how my friends and fellow college students would react and respond to them. I’m sure they would be most in favor of “sex is not the problem; it’s the solution.” And I think last night’s film would also agree.
Opening Night: Carolee Schneemann
October 23, 2008
by Alex Rewey
I must admit, my friends and I were a little surprised to find out of the existence of the Center for 21st Century Studies at our very own UWM. I’m not exactly sure why. Given any serious thought, it seems more than justifiable, necessary even. We were even more surprised to find out of its upcoming 40th anniversary. Yet again, why are we so surprised?
The world has changed immensely since 1968. It has changed, but subjects like race relations and political unrest seem as poignant today than ever. The opening of the weekend conference “Since 1968” began Thursday night before a nearly full house in the UWM Union Theatre. After a brief introduction by the interim director of the center, Merry Wiesner-Hanks and the Dean of the College of Letters and Sciences, G. Richard Meadows, keynote speaker, filmmaker and painter Carolee Schneemann took the stage.
Screening her now infamous films Fuses (1964-66) and Meat Joy (1964), Schneemann seemed a bit taken aback to be suddenly lecturing on the thematic nature of her work. Expressed as a counterpoint to the turbulent Vietnam conflict, the deliberately sensual Fuses and Meat Joy appeared as anything but controversial nowadays.
However, as Schneemann began to paint a portrait of the film’s original debuts, I found myself increasingly aware of just how far we have come in terms of contemporary attitudes of morality and human sexuality. Repeatedly turned down by gallery owners and originally derided as obscenity, Schneemann’s exploration of the human body, in particular femininity, hardly caused anyone in Thursday’s crowd to bat an eye. It is important to consider that people didn’t always react like this.
Bookending Schneemann’s slideshow of personal work was the overwhelmingly controversial “Terminal Velocity,” a photo series of enlargements of the victims of 9/11 who were captured falling to their deaths from the World Trade Center in New York City. As one astute audience member pointed out in the brief Q & A that followed, it is one of Schneemann’s more well defined and concise pieces.
Originally an abstract artist, her vibrantly colorful landscapes and graphic portraits were shown on a slide projector as she commented on the progression of artistic considerations of sexuality since her first work in the 1960s. Skimming very briefly her seminal work on historical artistic representations of the vulva, Schneemann maintained her work is, and always has been, to test the intimacies and eroticism of humans.
Even from my young perspective, it was very apparent that since 1968 attitudes have changed a great deal. I was extremely intrigued by Schneemann’s take on the struggles for personal legitimacy she had endured in her early career in what she considers to be a “misogynistic” art world.
With many of the following conference’s subjects revolving around more conceptual socio-political lectures, Schneemann’s presentation served as a rather visceral and poignant opening.
The world has indeed changed.
by Natalie Jankowski
On my drive home this evening, the Natasha Bedingfield hit “Pocketful of Sunshine” came on the radio and I couldn’t help but jive along to the catchy beat (I am a regular driver jiver). As the lyrics ricocheted through my car, parts of the song reminded me of Carolee Schneemann’s film, Fuses, that was screened tonight as part of UWM’s Center for 21st Century Studies 40th Anniversary Conference.
Take me away: A secret place.
A sweet escape: Take me away.
Take me away to better days.
Take me away: A hiding place.
Fuses was about a half hour and completely silent. The only noises heard were the movements, sneezes and coughs of the audience. And honestly, I don’t think the film needed any audio. It would have altered the film’s message. There’s something to be said for silence.
The structure and raw cut look of Fuses was a creative diversion and refreshing change from mainstream movies. Let’s just say the film seemed more pleasurable for the two people in the film (and maybe the cat too) than for the audience. Not that there was anything bad about it, it was just not what I had expected. Then again, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to begin with. Though, I do have to say that despite the extremely intimate (for lack of a better word) content, the audience took it all in with maturity and respect, which is all one can ask for when you’re sitting in a theater quite unsure about what is going to be shown before you. For those of you who did not catch the premiere of Fuses last night, think… man and woman… an apparent clothing shortage… the 1960’s… then couple that with the lyrics above (for a bit of a modern twist on it) and let your imagination loose.
After Fuses, Ms. Schneemann presented another film, Meat Joy, and then talked about both films and her other work. Most of this part of the evening was lost on me. There was one piece, however, that I really liked, mostly because it was very different from the rest. It featured a dark silhouette of a woman with a violin and I believe Ms. Schneemann called it “Classical Good Behavior.” This piece was my favorite.
As the reel of slides came to an end, the first slide appeared on screen again. It was called “Terminal Velocity” and was a compilation of photographs of people jumping from the World Trade Centers on September 11th. This piece is featured in an art book (of which we, unfortunately, did not get the name of) with a poem by a Polish poet. Ms. Schneemann read the translated poem, and next to the violinist silhouette, this was the highlight of my evening. My search for this book and poem has thus begun….
