An American Xmas - an invitation

A new play is opening on December 9th. It's called "An American Xmas" and is a comedic look at many of the accepted but contradictory attitudes taken towards Christmas.

As I mentioned before, I get to be involved through set design, costume selections and decor for these events. It's a great group to work with and the end result is always something exciting!

This year, I also got to have some artwork be part of the poster and promotion for the event. It's just more and more fun every year!

If you're in the neighborhood, you're invited to come to "An American Xmas"!

"Printing will destroy architecture"

"The book will destroy the edifice."
- Dom Claude, in The Hunchback of Notre-Dame

My husband has lately been reading Victor Hugo's The Hunchback of Notre-Dame and pointed out a passage to me that tied up with a current train of thought I'd been having. It's a long passage so I'll skip around a little but the gist of it is the thought that the Gutenberg press was threatening the art of architecture:

"When the legends of primitive races became so numerous, and their reciting was so confused that the stories were about to be lost, people began to transcribe these memories in the most visible, the most lasting, and at the same time the most natural medium. Every tradition was sealed under a monument."

This practice, says Hugo, eventually gave rise to the elaborate architecture of the cathedral and castle. But with the printing press, those same ideas were not captured in words, not in images. Hugo writes:

"Here was a premonition that human thought had advanced, and, in changing, was about to change its mode of expression, that the important ideas of each new generation would be recorded in a new way, that the book of stone, so solid and so enduring, was about to be supplanted by the paper book, which would become more enduring still. In this respect, the vague formula of the archdeacon had a second meaning: That one art would dethrone another art. It meant: Printing will destroy architecture."

It brought to mind the many discussions on the future of traditional publishing in the light of digital publishing. It seems that one was seen as a threat to the other, with both points of view pointing at the other and saying that the end was coming. Obviously, with hindsight, architecture hasn't been done away with. It has changed and modified its look with the trends of the cultures it represents. Perhaps it has become more functional. But it has still carried on with a purpose and with the artistry of those that practice it. A book can't provide shelter like a building can and a building can still express a concept, a thought, an idea even if not as graphically as it once did with its murals and carved edifices.

I suspect the reverse is true of traditional print publishing and digital publishing. The digital formats reduce much of the art to the functional - so far, anyways - while traditional publishing maintains the art and craftsmanship. But there will be room for both to develop their strengths and unique position in a previously unchallenged marketplace. One will have a little more "weight of tradition" behind it, while the other breaks new ground and presents age-old ideas in new and novel ways.

In the end, I suspect traditional publishing will carry on. Not at odds with digital possibilities but in standing as a monument to the ideas and artistry of its kind to be practiced with an old and new purpose unique to itself.

Let's see how it works out.

*all excerpts from Book V, chapter 2 "This Will Kill That"

Remembering ...

IN FLANDERS FIELDS
by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

The edge of the box

Lately, I've been reading Linchpin: Are You Indispensable? by Seth Godin, and have been both challenged and intrigued by his perspective. Although his expertise is generally considered to be in the hi-tech industry, I've been benefiting from taking him literally when he uses the terms "art" and "artist" to apply to the work done in any (or every) industry.

Here's some snippets that, in the words of Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot, "have given me furiously to think":

"Artists don't think outside the box, because outside the box there's a vacuum ... Artists think along the edges of the box, because that's where things get done. That's where the audience is, that's where the means of priduction are available, and that's where you can make an impact." (pg. 102)

A readily available analogy for this concept is in writing. Writers introduce new concepts, new characters and new worlds but they do it inside the framework of written communication - grammar, plot, sentence structure and so on. Their creative efforts or art rely on the framework of the known. If a writer suddenly abandoned all rules of grammar and just threw words in any order or any tense onto the page, chances are very good that his/her intent would be lost. There would be no idea communicated, except in a purely visual sense. But even the visual arts follow certain conventions that give their work impact, to find that point of contact with their viewer.

Godin's addressing the idea that art must meet reality in order to truly accomplish it's purpose. In order to make an impact, it first has to make it out the door. He quotes Steve Jobs "Real artists ship" as the basic concept of impact.

Now, I've known this for sometime on a personal level - I produce better and more consistently when I have a deadline. Am I always 100% satisfied with what I've produced? No. But if my satisfaction is the key to moving it out, it will never get out. Let's face it, I can putz with a comma or an area of shading forever. The ship date keeps me focused.

Here's Godin's challenge:

"The only purpose of starting is to finish, and while the projects we do are never really finished, they must ship ... Shipping is the collision between your work and the outside world." (pg. 103)

And it eventually becomes part of the process.

"When you first adopt the discipline of shipping, your work will appear to suffer. There's no doubt that another hour, day, or week would have added some needed polish. But over time -- rather quickly, actually -- you'll see that shipping becomes part of the art and shipping makes it work." (pg. 103)

That's the edge of the box. It means you can't rest on the direction of someone else for your daily involvement in your craft. It means paying attention to each step. Walking the edges of the box take balance, discipline and dedication. But creating on the edge of the box also means that your work can be both satisfying and have the impact you intend. And that's the point at which you become indispensable.

Step out and ship it.

Up to my scuppers?

I'm not a big TV watcher. Have a few shows on DVD that I prefer to watch over and over again, but while traveling last summer, I finally watched an episode of Holmes on Homes. Even where I'm living, I kept hearing, "Don't you know who he is? He's from CANADA!"

Oh.

I thoroughly enjoyed the show and that night I learned what a scupper is - at least related to a home roof. Then I also learned it's actually a boating term. A "scupper" is a drain on a boat.

Which led to this fascinating bit of information - "If you're 'up to your scuppers' you're about to sink..."

It's been a busy time here at my desk. Lots of writing, not enough art, and general business taking up much of my day. There are moments I do indeed feel "up to my scuppers"!

But then that phrase makes me laugh out loud, and I return to the writing waiting for me.

And do it with a smile, too.

(Thanks, Uncle B.)

Sound theories on writing for children?

“They seem to regard books for children with the same tolerant tenderness with which nearly any adult regards a child. Most of us assume there is something good in every child; the critics go on from this to assume there is something good in every book written for a child. It is not a sound theory.”

– Katharine White (Mrs. E.B.White) quoted in
The New Yorker, 7-21-08 “The Lion and the Mouse”

Cleaning house

I've been cleaning and sorting through my studio the past few weeks. And will be tackling the closets soon. But today, I sat down and did the same with my computer desktop, not just the physical one.

And I threw out 1500 words.

I know I may miss having words like pastiche and lugubrious and senectitude tucked away for a rainy day but sometimes we just have to prioritize.

("Word Dump" created at Wordle.net)