Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Sunday, June 16, 2013
The Cult of the Ugly
As profiled in the June 2 New York Times Style Magazine, fashion designer Miuccia Prada is an unrepentant communist who has created a business worth $5 billion. As she explains to her Times interviewer, "When I started fashion was the worst place to be if you were a leftist feminist. It was horrid.... I suppose I felt guilty not trying to be doing something more important, more political."
Asked about the power of ugly, she replies, "This is a question close to the meaning of my job. Ugly is attractive, ugly is exciting. Maybe because it is newer. The investigation of ugliness is, to me, more interesting than the bourgeois idea of beauty. And why? Because ugly is human. It touches the bad and the dirty side of people.... By definition good taste is horrible taste. I do have a healthy disrespect for those values."
I would say that with her spring and fall 2013 collections, she is a success in her own terms.
Speaking of her spring collection, Prada declaims: "Dream is forbidden, nostalgia is forbidden, to be too sweet is not good. Everything we used to feel historically, now you can't enjoy. The clothes are the expression of this impossible dream."
Revolutionary iconoclasm is big business, it seems.
Asked about the power of ugly, she replies, "This is a question close to the meaning of my job. Ugly is attractive, ugly is exciting. Maybe because it is newer. The investigation of ugliness is, to me, more interesting than the bourgeois idea of beauty. And why? Because ugly is human. It touches the bad and the dirty side of people.... By definition good taste is horrible taste. I do have a healthy disrespect for those values."
I would say that with her spring and fall 2013 collections, she is a success in her own terms.
Speaking of her spring collection, Prada declaims: "Dream is forbidden, nostalgia is forbidden, to be too sweet is not good. Everything we used to feel historically, now you can't enjoy. The clothes are the expression of this impossible dream."
Revolutionary iconoclasm is big business, it seems.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Fine Arts Friday: From The Arts of the Beautiful by Etienne Gilson
The first moment of any art is the impulse to produce something.
On the part of the consumer, the enjoyment of beauty is a kind of contemplation, but on the part of the producer, art is action.
There is no opposition between beauty and usefulness, for beauty may serve useful purposes (in a sense it always does), yet beauty is not made for in view of its possible utility--it is desirable for its own sake.
There is or should be art in every doing and making, and where there is art, there certainly is knowledge, intelligence, and even invention.
Infinitely precious because of the spirituality it imposes on its matter, and a moving witness to the primary creative fecundity which is God's alone, art and the precarious beauties with which it adorns the world and life still remain more a grace than a necessity.
Berthe Morisot Painting by Paul Gobillard
On the part of the consumer, the enjoyment of beauty is a kind of contemplation, but on the part of the producer, art is action.
Suzanne and Another by Carl Larsson
Cactus by Carl Larsson
There is or should be art in every doing and making, and where there is art, there certainly is knowledge, intelligence, and even invention.
Lise Sewing by Auguste Renoir
Infinitely precious because of the spirituality it imposes on its matter, and a moving witness to the primary creative fecundity which is God's alone, art and the precarious beauties with which it adorns the world and life still remain more a grace than a necessity.
Mrs. N.C. Wyeth by N.C. Wyeth
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Good Neighborliness Reduces Unemployment, Study Finds
Caldwell Church Soup Kitchen in Brooklyn, N.Y., manned by church volunteers.
Factoring out demographic and regional economic variances, the study found that those counties with the highest number of non-profit organizations and with the highest levels of social cohesion--measured by the frequency of interactions in a year by county residents with family, neighbors, and friends, had lower unemployment than other countries.
As factors standing alone also, a high presence of civil organizations or high levels of social cohesion each contributed to keeping a county's unemployment lower than the rate in counties with fewer civic groups or lower social cohesion. The difference in unemployment between the most highly social connected counties and the lowest socially connected counties is a whopping 2 percentage points, as shown in this graphic from the study.
A Knight Foundation Soul of the Community study on what keeps people attached to their communities was one source for the National Conference on Citizenship research. The Knight Foundation believes the reasons for the correlation are:

2. Strong local friendship networks are related to pride in the community and attachment to it.
3. Pride in and attachment to the community predicts positive perceptions of its economy. Positive perceptions of the local economy encourage people to invest and spend locally, supporting employment."

The conclusions of the National Conference on Citizenship study leads to the question: How do we build up the social cohesion and levels of volunteerism in our communities? What are the factors in a community's life that lead to greater people's increased personal involvement and what are the factors that decrease it? How can we repair the social fabric in a broken community?
The answer does not necessarily lie with government, at all. Factors that contribute to community life can be as mundane as the time spent in commuting to work. According to a recent Canadian government report, full-time workers with flexible work conditions and who work at home at least occasionally, are more likely to be volunteers in their community than those who work full time with inflexible schedules and commutes--by a difference of 26% to 18%, respectively. You can read about this report here. Commuting time also affected volunteer levels: "Among full-time workers who took 45 minutes or more to get to work, 15% were regular volunteers. For those whose commute was 30 minutes or less, the rate was 21%."
There are probably myriad ways that we can boost our community's levels of social cohesion and participation. One thing is certain, the need to be a good neighbor is as true now as it was when Christ first told the story of the Good Samaritan in answer to the question, "Who is my neighbor?"
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Friday, March 15, 2013
The American Blended Family: 1865
In Huck's Raft: A History of American Childhood, author Steven Mintz reports that the kinds of blended families we see today were common from the country's beginnings, up to the 1940s and 1950s. The reason for blending, though, was not divorce, but death. On the American frontier, for instance, 25 percent of women died in childbirth, often in isolation with no medical care. Without modern medical care and antibiotics, illness in an adult, especially one already exhausted by overwork, could easily leave a child without a father or mother, or both. Often the remaining parent would seek another mate, as a necessary for the survival of homestead and children. Then the new stepparent and children needed to get to know each other, and hopefully, a bond would grow between them, which, while not detracting from the bitter missing of a beloved parent, offered comfort and nourishment to the children.
Mother and Child by Mary Cassatt, 1880
The McNairs became such a blended family in The Able McLaughlins, and a more poignant story of blending could not be told. A widower, Mr. McNair had brought home a new wife, Barbara, from Scotland to help him care for his eight-year-old son, Dod, and his three-year-old daughter, Jeannie. No sooner had they arrived at the homestead than McNair took off for the fields with his son.
Mrs. McNair "stood contemplating. The rain continued blowing about in imprisoning drab veils. Finally she turned away, and sat down weakly. From where she sat, she saw the dripping cows shivering. She sat huddled down. She seemed trying to cuddle up against herself. Her hands, folded in her lap, seemed the only sight not terrifying that her eyes might consider.
"Presently the silence of the room was broken with a little sob. She looked up. Christie's little sister, standing near the window, was just turning away from it.... She felt deserted. Big tears were running slowly down her face. She looked like a neglected, ragged, little heartbroken waif.
"Barbara started from her chair. That moment her face showed she had forgotten the surrounding desolations. She ran and gathered the child into her arms. She sat down with her in her lap. The little Jeannie, finding herself caressed, began crying lustily. The new mother kissed her. She caressed her. She soothed her, coaxing her into quietness. She told her little stories. She sang little songs, examining thoughtfully the poor little garments she wore. Dusk came upon them as they sat consoling each other. Barbara demanded help then of the child. Jeannie must show her where all the things were kept which were needed for the supper. They would make some little cakes together. Jeannie grew important and happy.
"Dod's eyes fairly bulged with amazement when he saw that supper table. Nothing of the sort had been set before him in that kitchen. His new mother made no apologies.... " Her husband protested, "We don't have cake every day."
"I do," she said placidly. "I like a wee cake with my tea."
Perhaps Barbara McNair made Scottish rock cakes. Given the meagre contents of the pantry, theycould not have been too fancy.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
How Peony Will Travel
I learned about it through a story of one of my favorite characters in The Able McLaughlins, Barbara McNair, the second wife of a homesteading Scot. Mr. McNair had left his first wife and children to return to Scotland to settle a land dispute, but his wife, wrung out with frontier life, died before he could return. Learning of her death, he wedded a woman in Scotland and brought her back to the Iowa prairie with him. She was bitterly disappointed to see her new abode, as it seems Mr. McNair may have been guilty of false advertising. One day, she accompanied her husband to town, and while he was buying supplies, she stalked up and down the streets until she finally found a house with a garden. She asked the owner where she had gotten the flowers, and the owner took her to an older home in town. The lady of this house came out to greet them in her garden and then fetched her spade to give Mrs. McNair a peony plant to grow at the McNair homestead out on the prairie.
Mrs. McNair asked the women where she had gotten the peony, and here is the answer:
"The peony her mother had brought from eastern to western Ohio many years ago, and when she had died, her daughter had chosen the peony for her share of the estate. Her mother had got it from her mother, who came a bride to Ohio from western New York, clasping it against her noisy heart, out of the way of the high waters her husband had led her horse through, across unbridged streams, cherishing it more resolutely than the household stuffs which had to be abandoned in pathless woods. Her great-grandfather had brought it west in New York in his saddle bag, soon after Washington's inauguration as he returned from New York City. She supposed before that the Dutch had maybe brought it from Holland to Long Island. There had been tulips, too, but the pigs had eaten them in Ohio. She had wondered sometimes if it was the fate of the peony to be carried clear to the Pacific by lonely women. At least, if she gave a bit of it to Mrs. McNair, it would be that much farther west on its way to its destination, which she, for one, hoped it might soon reach, so that there would be some rest for women."
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