I will bring a few prints of the the series On Transience this Saturday to the studio sale. It is more abstract work than my usual montages, but close to my heart, since it was the first leg in the ongoing project on displacement.

I was inspired by the transient nature of the immigrant experience, in place and emotion, to photograph objects in transition. The images of man-made materials found in trashcans, recycling centers, junk stores and shipyards, were to bring to mind the Jewish scrap peddlers from Eastern Europe who began to arrive in Oregon in the early 1900s. Some of these immigrants made their livings by gathering scrap metal that was cast off, discarded, and broken and by peddling it on the streets of Portland and other Oregon towns. A few of these peddlers eventually turned this “recycling” work into successful enterprises such as the shipyard, where I was photographing as well.

The montages emphasize the transient nature of the materials that historically provided some Jewish immigrants’ livelihood: iron, wood, plastic, paper, and steel. Contemporary immigrants too, regardless of how they made their livings back home, sometimes have no other choice than to turn to menial jobs, cleaning or working in the fields. I wanted to provide the viewer a way to contemplate the mobility of the lives of immigrants, from one land to another, from one life to another.

And given that it looks like we are now living in something akin to a banana republic, my thoughts are never far away from the concept of emigration – and the emotional and practical obstacles that are making it so unbelievably hard to leave your country. Then again (for balanced reporting) read this: a beautiful contemplation of two sorts of migration, from one country to another, from one status to another, after coming out. The writer’s experience let to the study of migratory art: http://therumpus.net/2017/11/torch-movement-its-depictions-and-two-way-tickets/?utm_source=Narratively+email+list&utm_campaign=9daeb705ae-MEMOIR_MONDAY_2017_10_23&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_f944cd8d3b-9daeb705ae-66322689

Manhattan – American Airlines Flight 11 – 2001

There are some stories out there that have survived, pretty much intact, across centuries. The myth of Daedalus and Icarus, as told by Ovid (Metamorphoses VIII: 183 – 235), is one of those. The narrative describes father and son attempting to flee exile in Crete. Daedalus fashions them wings and warns of flying too low or too high. In one case the sea will dampen and weigh down the feathers, in the other case the sun will melt the wax with which they are affixed. In flight, Icarus is overcome by the joy of soaring and plummets to his death after coming too near to the sun.

Manhattan – United Airlines Flight 175 – 9/11/2001

The myth has often been interpreted as an admonition to stay away from extremes and follow the middle path. It has also been called an example of hubris, attempting behavior reserved for the Gods.

Hudson River, NY – United Airways Flight 1549 – 2009 (Birdstrike)

For us who have witnessed a lifetime of airplane disasters the myth provides the easy analogy of things falling out of the sky. As a cognitive psychologist, I am, however, more concerned with the parallels the myth offers regarding the assumption of being in control, falling for the illusion of control. Daedalus was fully aware of the dangers and surely was no fool; nonetheless he was certain he could handle the situation – a certainty that cost him his son. Icarus was warned but got swept up by his desires and threw caution to the wind. In a similar fashion, we invent and use technology; we set national and global policies and make economic or military decisions about situations we consider controllable – or better yet, controlled. Unlike Icarus, we often lack information or warning, but, like Daedalus, we are often alert to the risks but convinced we can handle them – and are profoundly mistaken. The result sometimes involves the same fate as Icarus’ – falling from the sky – and sometimes takes other equally tragic forms.

Schiphol (AMS)  – El Al Flight 1864 1992

Free Fall  (2015) was a series of photomontages that were intended to remind us of the fallacy described above. The images are composed of photographs that I took either on site or that came from geographic areas that I felt could be stand-ins for sites that I had no access to (Ukraine; South China Seas.) The montages are linked to the story of Icarus via images of birds and to modern tragedy through the disaster locations they include or refer to. They were my take on some of the tragic consequences of the illusion of control.

Miami (MIA) – ValuJet Flight 596 1992

And for balanced reporting, here is something to make you smile and feel a bit safer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=63&v=syozl4DAPs4

This week will be my own memory lane. On Saturday, 12/2/2017, two friends and I are showing and selling some of our work for a day – I will bring some of my older series out of storage.

We sent out evites, but I thought I’d use the blog to do a bit of the ground work and dig out images from the archives; some of these prints will be available.

One of my oldest series Affirmation&Negation will be represented (and if I thought its issues of bible touting and social injustice needed our attention then, I do so tenfold now with our current government.)

My approach to this series was dialectical. The images each represent a Biblical passage, placed into a contemporary setting (Affirmation). However, the images also raise questions about whether the demands for principled, ethical and just behavior found in the Old and New Testament are only given lip service by modern society (Negation). Many of the montages included photographs of people I met on the street, homeless.

Luckily, there are always exceptions to the ruling bad guys and good guys still exist:

https://www.csmonitor.com/USA/Society/2017/1120/A-billionaire-wages-war-on-poverty-in-Oklahoma

(how’s that for fair and balanced reporting given my usual fare of bad news?)

If you are in Portland and have time on Saturday it would be great to see you around!

http://evite.me/EVb1SCTyrS

“…a translocation with transformation indefinitely delayed” is today’s phrase that is somewhat haunting me. It comes from a perceptive and smart piece of art criticism by Kimberly Bradley whose writing I hold in high regard. The essay describes and analyzes Ai WeiWei’s 2016 exhibition in Vienna titled Translocation-Transformation.

Bradley openly describes her distaste bordering on disgust of Ai WeiWei’s “gimmicky instrumentalization of the refugee crisis,” alluding to narcissism and publicity seeking, but then is admirably open to give a positive review of the art in front of her. I know nothing of this controversy (assuming it is not just her own personal assessment,) but wished I had seen the work since it dealt with the notion that people who move need to change and adapt. That in itself is hard, but becomes particularly so when the move was involuntary and the host culture is hostile.

For sake of argument, assume you had to flee your country of origin and are tolerated in your new residence only if you forsake all of the customs that your religious or ethnic background demands. Let’s make it concrete: you are an orthodox Jew, and you are now required to eat pork and shrimp, not wear Kipot, shake women’s hands, and not to study Hebrew. As I said, for sake of argument. I guess we all agree that we would find it detestable if a Jew was forced to change his diet. Some would, however, possibly argue, that Jews needed to learn English for school and that Jewish girls would be required to share the classroom with boys. I guess most of us would also agree that certain customs – (now not Jewish but centered in African cultures) like clitorectomy for girls –  are an absolute taboo in a Western democracy. So we are drawing lines in the sand, and would be hard pressed to explain where we choose to place those lines away from the extremes.

Many, when asked why they require this or that transformation from the refugees, argue that if people want to live here they need to accept our culture and norms. Do they want to live here? Or do they simply not want to die over there?  Gives the fact of offering sanctuary the right to make demands? I have no answer to those questions, but think about them a lot since both sides have valid reasons to be wary.

https://frieze.com/article/ai-weiwei-2

Closer to home there is a new exhibit by the very same artist that I hope to visit in New York City before it’s gone. Catch it, NYC peeps!

https://newrepublic.com/article/145469/ai-weiwei-takes-migrant-crisis

For now, let me quote Bradley’s description of an exhibit piece in the 2016 show which also explains my choice of photographs for today – the wilted Lotus plants.

“Floating on the pond was the piece about which I was initially most sceptical. F Lotus (2016) comprises 1,005 life jackets discarded by refugees who landed on Lesbos (the island’s mayor donated the jackets to Ai). Ai’s refugee-related work has often been tone-deaf and self-centred, most notably the photographic self-portrait in which he posed as the drowned Syrian toddler Alan Kurdi on a Turkish shore, or the occasion when he wrapped celebrities in emergency blankets at a Berlin benefit dinner (both 2016). But F Lotus is a more considered commentary: one with a message beyond celebrity ‘solidarity’ or Instagram selfies with refugee barbers. Here, 201 rings, each comprising five life jackets in blue, red or orange, form lotus flowers symbolizing rebirth and transcendence – perhaps hopelessly optimistic sentiments in a country whose right-wing faction wants to cut refugee support and where refugees still wait months for asylum: a translocation with transformation indefinitely delayed. But, together, the lifejackets form the calligraphic letter ‘f’, which, in a twist on the kitschy lotus, is meant to play on the f-word in English and, in Mandarin, alludes to a phrase meaning, ‘F*** your mother.’ As the horrific causes of the world’s most recent mass migration continue, Ai has at last given us a piece that is provocative while it evokes contemplation.”

Today’s poem is Home by Warsan Shire

This poem is now the rallying call for refugees: “No one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark”

Today’s phrase comes from an article about the difficulties faced by the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but could as well describe large stretches of my life (which is probably why it stuck in my brain):

“… the issues were compounded by a surfeit of dreams and a deficit of focus….”

http://www.vulture.com/2017/04/what-broke-the-met-museum.html

Details of the Met’s woes can be read in the link above, but I thought I’d rather offer more uplifting fare. I came across three articles on museums recently that made me smile, curious and (should that be possible) even more eager to travel.

The first is about a photographer who – or so it is claimed – patiently waited in all kinds of museums for the kind of shot we all dream of: a match between two subjects that is coincidental but happens to be right there in front of your viewfinder. The link offers many of his images, I culled a few below  just to give you a taste of what awaits. (They say his name, the rest are mine.)

Photo by Stefan Draschan

Photographer Spends Eternity Waiting For Museum Visitors To Match Artworks And The Result Is Worth The Wait

Photos by Stefan Draschan

The second gives you glimpses of various collections now displayed online by different museums.  I should be more precise (focus, Heuer, focus!): the video clips offer information on background stories, tricks of the trade, all kinds of things associated with what is going on in a museum behind the walls that display the art. There are some fascinating tidbits.

Go Behind the Scenes of 9 Museums With These Great Online Web Series

And then there are these secret museums, some of which actually do allow visitors, while others don’t, and some are simply hard to get to. But they all are way beyond run-of-the-mill and enticing, if you ask me (dream, Heuer, dream!)

https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/essential-guide-secret-museums

And as a tribute to US Poet Laureate Richard Wilbur, who died last week, here is his poem:

Museum Piece