†
Robert Anthony Snow
Was there a finer man
on the national stage?
Archive for the ‘Personalities’ Category
Find your place in the sun
Tuesday, July 8th, 2008Hey, look, I probably get a buzz seeing famous people as much as the average guy, but I take absolutely no interest in celebrities just because they happen to qualify for the description. On the other hand, I really do like the stars I respect, especially if my admiration for them is rooted in the “silver age” of television, and I’d probably step on my Yorkie to shake the hand of Peter Graves.
When I learned that Johnny Crawford was coming back to Danville, I knew I had to meet him and experience his current style of entertainment. Like Kurt Russell and Ron Howard, he was a child star who kept himself on the rails, and he went forward to do an impressive range of cool things in his life as an artist, athlete, and entrepreneur. Most of all, he held true to his earliest passion—music.
If Dana didn’t fully appreciate how much I was looking forward to hearing Johnny’s vintage dance band, it was because I tried my best to avoid behaving like a groupie beforehand, but I think she understood when I dug out one of Dadbo’s old bow ties and taught myself how to tie it. It’s been quite awhile since the two of us had a nice picture taken, so I was tickled when Joan and Caitlan agreed to document our night out. Thanks, ladies!
The extra time for pictures cost us the opportunity to pick out a choice table at the Playhouse indoor theater, but I managed to discover an empty love seat near the stage. It was a fine spot to watch Crawford re-enact the period manners of a band leader from the 1920s and 1930s. We were treated to a superb group of musicians 
hired locally to become his vintage orchestra for the evening, including Miles Osland, Dave Henderson, and Rick Cook. Watching Crawford’s seat-of-the-pants coordination was a delight, and the entire effect was a testament to the sheer professionalism of everyone on stage. On top of that, the “CD Release Party” aspect seemed to put the star of the show in a heightened mood, and his vocals and repartee at the microphone were thoroughly entertaining. I think Dana would agree the only way it could have been more enjoyable is if I’d spent less time with the bow tie and a bit more with remembering how to do the fox trot. Maybe next time; I hope he’s invited back for an encore performance.
Years ago, when I fell in love with Danville’s brass band festival, I gained a new, profound regard for the quality of American band music from the mid nineteenth century to the era of The Great War. I also came to understand how much work it takes to resurrect all of the instrumentation to recreate a period sound. This summer, Johnny Crawford shared with our community the same preservationist spirit, and it makes me think he may be emerging as one of the country’s most important historians of our popular music, salvaging lost orchestrations and discarded arrangements of favorite dance tunes from that unique period between two World Wars. As David McCullough reminds us, Americans from a different period of our history were less similar to us than we like to believe. They lived differently, and they thought differently. It was the age of radio. Everyone aspired to be a musician, if they didn’t already sing or play an instrument. All popular music was music meant for dancing, and if people didn’t go out to dance, they probably were at a motion picture to watch others dance. There was a spirit in America that observers such as David Gelernter have told us is all but lost. Well, perhaps so, but not if Johnny Crawford has anything to say about it.
Don’t go ’round moping, hoping happiness will come.
That’s not the way; it doesn’t pay.
If you want happiness, help yourself to some.
Why don’t you try to take life the way I do:Let the whole world sigh or cry,
I’ll be high in the sky,
Up on top of a rainbow,
Sweeping the clouds away.I don’t care what’s down below.
Let it rain or let it snow.
I’ll be up on a rainbow,
Sweeping the clouds away.I have learned life’s lesson: fighters who always win
Are those who can take it right on the chin—and grin.So I shout to everyone:
“Find your place in the sun,
Up on top of a rainbow,
Sweeping the clouds away!”
Various & Sundry, part seventy-seven
Friday, July 4th, 2008— Month of June workout totals: Swim-1; Bike-7; Run-2; Lift-1; Yoga-0; Pilates-0; Lupus Drills-1
Just when I stopped believing in the impossible mission…
— Jim Phelps lives!
And so, finally, I became an artist when I grew up…
— The Brady portrait commission is done. There were many times during the course of the work when I questioned what I’d gotten myself into. I’ve always told myself I wouldn’t try to paint a likeness without a quality reference image. An accomplished portrait artist once advised me to avoid subjects who were deceased. On top of breaking those rules, I faced creating a full-color image from a black and white photo. “All’s well that ends well,” as they say, so eventually the creative torment and restless nights will be forgotten—until I get myself into the next pickle. Hey, I should look at it another way: If I can solve this puzzler and survive to reflect on it, the next project should prove to be easier. Sounds good in theory, but the important thing is that the recipient is thrilled with the result, and she called me again this morning to say so. Well, isn’t that what creating art is all about?
Major adventures in a time-machine collage…
— Dana gave this title to my wild dream after I described it to her this morning. Forgive me for describing it to you, too. After a crazy silent-movie chase through the restaurant zone with brother Fron, I found myself on a train with my Aunt Sis when she was young. It appeared to be some sort of troop train. As a soldier who looked like Gary Cooper told stories, I saw a uniformed, twenty-year-old Eddie (Dadbo) come into the passenger car dragging his canvas suitcase, with well-oiled, carefully combed hair and a grim expression. When I tried to “rewind” the sequence, I couldn’t control the timing, so the scene before me changed to a relaxed, fifty-something Dadbo packing for a business trip, but he wasn’t able to see me. I started to wake up, and, naturally, I couldn’t reverse the progression before the entire thing was lost.
Back to normal (whatever that is)…
— Bruce is home again after his latest ordeal. By and by, he seems to be in less pain and is able to climb stairs without difficulty. Joan and Caitlan stopped to wish him well on their way back from Hawaii. Dana and I were heading out the door, to hear the Johnny Crawford Vintage Dance Band at Pioneer Playhouse. Because we were all hosed down and ready for a night out, they took some digitals of us on the front porch steps, and I hope we get the pictures soon, so I can make a better entry here about a satisfying, memorable performance.
(Happy Birthday, Uncle Sam!)
Remembering Uncle Si
Tuesday, June 24th, 2008
Yesterday, upon learning about the demise of George Carlin, I wanted to make an entry here and tell everyone that I thought he and Bill Cosby were the funniest men alive back in the 60s. I didn’t do it, because I realized too many of my entries this year were about dead guys—and then I got the phone call from Mombo that Uncle Si was gone… When I was growing up, it wasn’t unusual for me to witness my mother’s older brothers lose their tempers or foul the air with colorful language—except for Uncle Si—and, if he did cuss a bit, it always came with his joyous laugh. I don’t remember ever seeing him blow his cool. I had the sense that he just didn’t sweat the small stuff, and it wasn’t until later that I learned he had endured some major troubles in his life like everybody else, especially in business. I could relate to him as someone who had chosen the path of self-employment, with all of its advantages and disadvantages. I wrote here about my Uncle Si on his 90th birthday, and I’ll let that stand as my tribute to his character. Our extended family won’t be quite the same without his large presence.
Tonight’s essential triviality
Thursday, June 12th, 2008• Composer Earle Hagen just died of natural causes, a few days short of his 90th birthday. Hagen did orchestrations for Rodgers and Hammerstein and major Hollywood movies before he hit it big with television music. I guess my favorite is the theme he created for I-Spy. Better known for The Andy Griffith Show and That Girl, he will nonetheless be remembered in the annals of Clan Hayride Lore for writing that obscure crowd-pleaser, Rango.
• Now that I’m thinking about television theme songs, I finally realized why I like the intro for Firefly so much: Joss Whedon simply lifted the best musical attributes of Tennessee Stud. All artists steal from each other, right? A long-standing tradition.
• Hmmm . . . now I’m beginning to wonder if Brendan swiped the 8-note melody of A Grandy-bo Christmas Surprise for his new podcast series.
From San Antone to the Rio Grande,
On mountain peak or desert sand,
Every outlaw feared the hand of danger,
This Texas Ranger—
Rango, Rango, Ra-ang-go-o-oh!
n b c a = t c h k
Monday, June 9th, 2008Well, Brendan has finally gone and done it. He’s found a way to combine most of his favorite talents—music, satirical writing, cartooning, comedic performance, creative collaboration, and your basic web magic. The end product of this fusion? An outrageous repository of droll hilarity known as The Children’s Hour of Knowledge. The site is co-produced with Stephen Heintz, and so far, it has two episodes. I haven’t heard anything quite like this since I listened to “I Think We’re All Bozos on This Bus” by The Firesign Theatre. (And that was 36 years ago—around the time I first started to make landmark journal entries just like this!). Go listen for yourself. Perhaps the best way to end this post is with an excerpt from my nephew’s biographical blurb: “In a perfect world, Brendan would be swiftly hunted down by those determined to keep it that way.”
Various & Sundry, part seventy-six
Saturday, June 7th, 2008— Month of May workout totals: Swim-0; Bike-5; Run-1; Lift-2; Yoga-0; Pilates-1; Lupus Drills-2
— When a boy makes his uncertain journey toward manhood, he will never forget the famous beauties that adorned his itinerary:
Charmian Carr — Connie Stevens — Donna Mills — Peggy Fleming
Diana Hyland — France Nuyen — Madlyn Rhue — Barbara Bain
Janet Leigh — Barbara Hershey — Julie Christie — Natalie Wood
— After nearly a month away from the weights, I found myself back in the gym yesterday, hoping to get my fitness regimen into balance. Hearing a Roberta Flack tune always gets me thinking of college days.
Back in 1971, one of my earliest journal entries was about taking a date to see Play Misty For Me. The experience forever solidified my appreciation of Clint Eastwood as a cool dude, and I now regard that motion picture as the beginning of how he used his Dirty Harry appeal to negotiate with Warner Brothers a series of opportunities that would enable him to became one of the most extraordinary filmmakers of our time. If, like me, you have any libertarian leanings at all, you really have to admire a guy like Clint. He’s never been afraid to express his disdain for political correctness or those who shamelessly traffic in it.
— Not that there’s any reason for you to remember, but last summer I daydreamed in this space about my hope that a boyhood idol would eventually return to Central Kentucky (not as a mere beau, but as a performer). Needless to say, I’m thrilled to learn that my wish is granted.
Johnny Crawford is best known for playing Mark McCain on “The Rifleman” from 1958 to 1963. Unlike today, it was a time when the quality of the typical child actor in Hollywood would raise the mental question, “Whose powerful uncle pulled strings with the producer?” Crawford was one of a handful of young television performers—Patty Duke, Ron Howard, Tim Considine, Kurt Russell—that were cast for their obvious talent. Throughout his run on the popular series, he not only held his own impressively with star Chuck Connors, but opposite a constellation of entertainment heavyweights, including Dennis Hopper, John Carradine, Martin Landau, Kevin McCarthy, Sammy Davis Jr., Buddy Hackett, Warren Oates, and Michael Landon. Trite as it sounds—those were the days. The tube was small, but the icons were huge.
— The passing of Jim McKay makes me think of so many entertaining Saturday afternoons in the 60s, as we experienced the infancy of sports-casting through his distinctive coverage. A decade later, any of us who were watching in 1976 will always remember his marathon reporting from Munich, when his place in the history of television was secured. McKay and the late Roone Arlidge surely redefined the medium during those years, and, ever since, I’ve been as equally fascinated by the technology and professionalism of sports broadcasting as I’ve been with what happens before the cameras in a venue of competition. So far, 2008 has been a great year for upsets—beginning with an exciting Super Bowl, and on through another horse racing saga that culminated dramatically today. Zito has firmly established himself as the preeminent crusher of Triple Crown dreams—a class act, in contrast to the trainer of Big Brown, who, with his arrogant posturing, disqualified himself for much sympathy. Instead of partying with Trump in Manhattan, he’ll be, as Marty put it, “just another sweaty guy in a horse stall” tonight. On the other hand, one has to feel sorrow for the Kent D family and be concerned for the talented stallion himself. Yes, there’s only one compound phrase for it: The thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat. Let the summer games begin!
Movie lover’s lament
Tuesday, May 27th, 2008His mastery of the medium speaks for itself:
Comedy — Tootsie
Suspense — The Firm
Action — The Yakuza
Adventure — Jeremiah Johnson
Drama — They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?
Epic — Out of Africa
Was there another consistently better than Sidney Pollack?
Cheston vs Billary
Monday, May 19th, 2008The tribute issue of American Rifleman came in the mail today, and I got a lump in my throat when I saw the cover. I’ll prefer to remember this as Chuck’s day, and not when Slick arrived in Danville to seduce the Wendell Ford Democrats. After Gore fell short in November 2000, Clinton immediately blamed the NRA and its leader. At the time I was still displaying a bumper sticker on my truck that stated, “My President is Charlton Heston.”
Critical impressions
Wednesday, May 14th, 2008I remember writing in my journal about the first time I attended a Chamber of Commerce banquet in Danville, and finding it a powerfully positive experience, as I acclimated to a new community. Cliff and Jeanne were there, and the keynote speaker was a newspaper columnist from Louisville. It seemed as though everybody present knew him, except for me. Another thing I remember is how perceptive and funny he was. Here was a nice guy who had grown up along the Hanging Fork, who had gone to the big city, and who had made it big. I now believe that the perspective he shared that evening influenced how I would come to perceive the people of my newly adopted state. If I was wondering, “Just who are these Kentuckians?”—and surely I must have been—I could have done a lot worse than listen to the keen observations of Mr. Byron Crawford.
He called me yesterday for a phone interview, as he prepared to write a bike-to-work piece for his column in the Courier-Journal. On the eve of my annual conclave with the Kentucky Bicycle and Bikeway Commission, it’s interesting to think that my desire to make a mark on the quality of life in this Commonwealth might in no small way trace back to that night nearly twenty years ago when Byron came to town.
Various & Sundry, part seventy-five
Friday, May 2nd, 2008— Month of April workout totals: Swim-2; Bike-6; Run-3; Lift-4; Yoga-0; Pilates-7; Lupus Drills-4
— Most of us own something that we can use to save money and have fun at the same time. When we do, we feel more in touch with the sights, sounds, and smells of our natural environment. It helps us relieve stress, manage weight, and add years to our life. It easily bridges the age gap within our families. It enables us to more directly perceive our urban context. Sound too good to be true? Not at all. You know what I’m talking about. It’s your bicycle. May is here—National Bike Month. Don’t forget to wear your helmet.
— Speaking of bikes, the League of American Bicyclists has named Portland, Oregon a Bicycle Friendly Community at the Platinum level. Portland is the first large city in the United States to gain the designation and joins Davis, California as the only other platinum community in the nation. Combine that news with the side effects of a cross-country solo car trip, and perhaps Brendan will reconsider his conversion to motorist.
— When the idea first came up about attending the “Get Motivated!” business seminar on my birthday, consent was based on the opportunity to personally experience a Colin Powell address. Indeed, the Secretary/General was amazing, but the entire day was far more worthwhile than I was expecting. I found myself equally enthralled with both substance and technique from a heavyweight line-up of highly successful leaders. Here are tidbits selected from my sheaf of scribbles:
“Listen to your dreams, not your doubts.” —Robert Schuller
“Understand your foundation of passion.” —Krish Dhanam
“Don’t just learn something new, exploit it.” —Phil Town
“Focus on an outcome as if it’s already happened.” —Peter Lowe
“Every yes is hidden behind at least one no.” —Tom Hopkins
“Transformations begin at home.” —Colin Powell
— Back to thinking about dual-wheelers . . . After two years of presiding over meetings, I’ve stepped down as chair of B.I.K.E. and passed the baton to my friend Steve. It won’t surprise you to learn that I’ll continue to work for greater “bicycle friendliness” here and throughout Kentucky. My hope is that all who have supported my initiative will offer the same level of encouragement to Steve.
Feel the Love and Follow the Beauty
Sunday, April 27th, 2008I know I haven’t been writing much lately, but I recently promised myself that if I couldn’t dwell on positive things, then I best not record anything at all in this space. Although that may seem to indicate my prevailing mood, good developments continue to unfold. It is necessary to remain focused on practical goals. Each day sees progress on multiple fronts, even in the face of adversity. Extra time spent at the Blue Bank Farm, working on the stone flue, allowed me to overcome the deficiencies of my extended learning curve. Now I know I can complete the masonry job this summer according to my original vision. I helped produce a successful annual dinner for The Salvation Army, which fulfills a major volunteer commitment. Although I cut back on my involvement with the Brass Band Festival this year, I felt obligated to complete the poster series I started in 2005. That should be wrapped up soon, which clears the deck a bit more in favor of a greater commercial workload. Yesterday I woke up with a solution to the Town House storm water drainage problems that have bedeviled me for years. I’m reading Dr. Dyer’s book on learning to live one’s imagined life. Creating the prerequisite balance is a daily challenge that I can surely meet, but only through the relentless re-alignment of my inner thoughts and awareness, and I’m convinced that I shall do that only by truly accepting the all-sufficiency of God’s love.
Far away in the sunshine are my highest inspirations.
I may not reach them, but I can look up and see the beauty,
believe in them and try to follow where they lead. . . .
—Louisa May Alcott
Various & Sundry, part seventy-four
Monday, April 14th, 2008— As a kid, I think I first heard about Rube Goldberg from Mombo, and, although I never investigated his career in detail, he became another piece of supporting evidence with which I built the notion that I could grow up to be a cartoonist. The other day I was talking to a friend and fellow advisory board member at The Salvation Army HQ and learned he’d just attended the Rube Goldberg Machine Contest at Purdue University, where his grandson is an engineering student. Relying on their solid “home court advantage,” the Purdue team kept the prize at home for the third time in the last four years. My cousin Joe’s daughter, Michelle, goes to school at Purdue, but I’ve never asked him about her area of concentration.
— Watchmen is without a doubt the most satisfying “comic book” I’ve encountered since Joan and I discovered the story of “Superman-Red and Superman-Blue” at Pam and Lori’s house back in the 1960s. To call it a comic book will be off-target for those unfamiliar with the Hugo Award winning publication, which TIME Magazine included in its 2005 list of “the 100 best English-language novels from 1923 to the present.” When Brendan found out I’d never seen it, he dropped off a copy during his cross-country road trip. Thanks, NB. You know what I like.
— In less than a month, my level of inner peace, tenuous at best in this stage of life, was shaken twice. First I learned about my Godfather’s death in Ohio, which brought a deep sense of personal loss. I looked over some of his characteristic letters about dogs and gardening and things, traveling north with Dana to represent my Clan at a family service in St. Marys. Then came the aftershock news of Charlton Heston’s demise, a different kind of sadness, having of my own volition attached my spirit to his particular brand of patriotism many years ago. I took comfort in reading again the short letter he sent me around the time of his last public announcement. It was a personal note of appreciation for my having mailed him, over a period of years, a series of handmade birthday greetings. Greater consolation came in a message from my own Godson about my Uncle Don, and the statements Nic and his brother Seth made at Facebook about their regard for Mr. Heston, including recollections of meeting him with some of us who attended his book signing in Lexington. It was heartening to know that men of the next generation will value his enduring contribution to safeguarding the array of civil liberties we enjoy as Americans. Two resolutions honoring Mr. Heston—H.Res. 1091 by Congressman Don Young (R-AK), and S.Res. 512 by Senator Jim DeMint (R-SC)—were introduced this week in the two houses of Congress.
— Joan’s blogging has set a recent standard that can only be described as outstanding, and I need to regain my rhythm. Much to report about events in March and my current activities, but the emphasis remains with daily efforts to spin straw into gold. A life engaged in hustling after the next buck just seems to be the governing principle, or, as Mombo used to say when I rubbed the morning “sleepers” from my eyes:
Another day; another dollar…
Saturday, April 5th, 2008
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Charlton Heston
1 9 2 4 – 2 0 0 8
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“The Best Introduction to the Mountains”
Saturday, February 23rd, 2008Wow. Just finished reading Gene Wolfe’s short essay on J.R.R. Tolkien, and I just have to provide the link here. Amazing train of thought…
Various & Sundry, part seventy-one
Friday, February 1st, 2008— Month of January workout totals: Swim-1; Bike-2; Run-0; Lift-2; Yoga-5; Pilates-4
— I’m barely hanging on to athletic respectability, thanks to Yoga/Pilates, but that doesn’t do much for my aerobic fitness. This hasn’t been one of my better annual kick-offs, “exercise-wise,” compared to the past few years. My hope is that our traditional Super Sunday mountain-bike ride will help me turn this around, because I have no intention of not being in decent shape this year. Good. That’s settled.
— “Health is wealth,” but here’s another important reason I need to stay in noticeably sound condition: the mayor asked me to think through the idea of establishing a permanent Bicyclist/Pedestrian Advisory Committee for the city of Danville. Sounds like he intends to take my recommendations to the Board of Commissioners as soon as I finish my homework. It came out of nowhere, but seems in sync with my desire to disengage at the state level to focus more on local action. As I’ve probably said before, my days as a Kentucky Commissioner are undoubtedly numbered, since the governor who appointed me wasn’t re-elected, and my term on the KBBC will expire before long.
— Seeing Ken Watanabe in Clint’s Letters reminded me of his other emotional performances in Geisha and Samurai. And then I became even more sad, because I recently found out that Hollywood set decorator Gretchen Rau died of a brain tumor. I was really wanting to enjoy more of her exceptional work.
— I’ve been hearing funny things about The Producers since I was a college student, but it never occurred to me that it would take 35 years before I finally saw the show. This evening Dana and I had fabulous seats at Norton Center for the excellent national touring production, and I don’t know if I’ve laughed that hard since I first saw Blazing Saddles. When I’m in the right mood, nothing is more hilarious to me than Mel Brooks at his very best. I’ve always figured he was a comedic genius, but after experiencing “Springtime for Hitler” tonight, I must appreciate that he’s a genius—period. I was reminded that, when facing down the wicked, many unavoidable things are required by our warriors, but art is the best—the only true—revenge, and satiric comedy may be the ultimate—the most difficult?—form of that. Would that every aspiring dictator could look ahead only to having his personality cult reduced to an object of ridicule and gut-cramping laughter.
There is no safety for honest men except
by believing all possible evil of evil men.
—Edmund BurkeRhetoric does not get you anywhere, because
Hitler and Mussolini are just as good at rhetoric.
But if you can bring these people down with
comedy, they stand no chance.
—Mel Brooks
a blatantly political log entry
Wednesday, January 30th, 2008I haven’t posted one of these in some time, so here goes…
Message to Frankfort—
You can spend my money if it helps Kentuckians become smarter or healthier. Otherwise, back off!
Prediction: DEM Party Nomination—
Edwards will directly or indirectly throw his support to the Clinton faction, and he won’t wait much longer to do it. He needs to stay relevant and be tied to the winner. By supporting Hillary, he can do both, with enough extra percentage points to virtually ensure the outcome. It will happen before the so-called Super Tuesday vote, either openly or though the union clout he’s already in a position to maneuver. This will be enough for her to clinch the nomination when Obama loses steam after too many individual state losses. Edwards always knew he would be facing Clinton in this contest and entered the race prepared to strike a deal, if it came to that. He didn’t count on a “Ba-Rackstar” to emerge and knock him out so soon. He’ll take what he can get from someone who, ultimately, the Party will not bring itself to reject. He won’t easily forgive the young politician who ruined his campaign to be the Clinton alternative.
Prediction: GOP Party Nomination—
This is a tougher call for me to make tonight. McCain edged a surging Romney in Florida, thanks to the significant endorsements of a popular governor and Cuban-American senator. This trend could continue into next Tuesday’s vote, if numerous politicians across the country jump on McCain’s bandwagon. Romney’s potential to take a decisive lead depends on whether rank and file Republicans have forgotten McCain’s maverick actions against the conservative base as quickly as the Party establishment. Call me cynical, but I’m afraid they will, with too many worries about who can beat Hillary. McCain will win the big states next week in the winner-take-all format and seize an unstoppable momentum, unless Huckabee drops out and backs Romney, which I don’t see in the tea leaves. The right wing will wake up with a hangover and start demanding their kind of conservative as a running mate.
Prediction: General Election—
Too far away to envision the result, but much of the country will be bummed out when the reality sinks in that this election will not be about a new era of leadership. Basically, Republicans already hate the Clintons. Democrats will attempt to manufacture hatred for McCain. Turnout will rule the day. For way too long, way too many citizens have stayed away from the polls because they haven’t believed there was a meaningful difference between the tickets. The political-observer side of me looks at the logical eventualities and informs you, sadly, that next November is shaping up to be more of the same. On the other hand, my heart yearns for the kind of clear choice that a youthful idealist vs mature technocrat would provide. Obama vs Romney would truly be about the future, and it would energize a huge electorate like no contest the Republic has seen in a very long time.
Come on in, the ink’s fine…
Friday, January 25th, 2008Some things catch me off guard when they shouldn’t, like Brendan’s revelation that my visual style influenced his knack for strong image making. Well, there’s been plenty of artistic cross-pollination occurring within our extended family for quite some time, and his effect on the way I communicate with words has been equally significant—otherwise, nobody could stand reading anything at this site.
Brendan has his own way of describing the contemporary high-contrast style under discussion, but I’ve always called it “graphic illustration.” I’m no scholar, but it certainly has its historical pedigree in the printing arts (the anonymous masters of the 1400s, Dürer, Grien, up through the centuries: Rembrandt, Thomas Bewick, Rockwell Kent, Munch, the Expressionists, the Arts-and-Crafts printmakers, and the Bauhaus designers). Of course, the “look” has been radically influenced by photomechanical techniques (including cinema), and their appropriation by innovative artists and legendary illustrators (Warhol, Glaser, Otnes, Holland, Schwab). Few may give credit to the nameless pulp or movie-poster artists, but they also made their contribution to the style, as did the legendary comic artists, such as Harold Foster and Milton Caniff (genre exemplars of chiaroscuro, who probably had a more formative influence over generations of creative youngsters than the art history books).
I see it all as a moving stream of visual development in Western art, periodically spiced with Asian influences, but always a binary interpretation of how highlight and shadow define form. It’s how a visual decision maker has always tried to give the most simplified illusion of volumetric reality, by the handling of light sources, minimizing modeling, and harshly controlling the equilibrium of figure-ground relationships on a two-dimensional plane, culminating today in the ubiquitous tool of Adobe Photoshop (just as a reminder, I reserve the right, without warning, to squirt India ink in the face of anyone who uses Photoshop as a verb).
Wow, that’s an awfully wordy bit of rambling, and it could really use some editorial refinement. Naah. I’ll just click the “Publish” button instead…
Foul Troubles
Wednesday, January 16th, 2008Is it just me, or has this been a rugged year so far? Joan is emphatically right when she keeps an emphasis on life’s blessings, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of struggles along the way. I just spent the better part of a week scraping back together a functional workstation, and, as you’ve no doubt heard me whine before, my lifestyle dependency on computers is a major source of distress from time to time. For me, few things trigger such a sense of the forlorn. Perhaps it will continue until I learn to transcend it—or finally accept at an even deeper level that there’s a supreme power in control of my existence.
I remind myself that any flirtation with modes of complaint is without validity, for is there really a soul in the world who isn’t weathering his own vicissitudes? (Tom Cruise doesn’t count, dammit.) I think of my friends the Bells, or the school community in Marion County, or Janet and Jerome, and I can’t help but consider that much of life involves suffering. I suppose it’s about how we deal with it.
Take my niece Hayley, for example. Surely she had a much different expectation of how her 11th-grade basketball season would transpire, compared to the difficulties that came around the corner instead. A recent media story laid it all out before the public. Good grief. Nevertheless, among her top competitors, she still leads the area with an 80% free-throw percentage. Hardly anybody on the court has been pressured this winter as much as Belle, but she maintains her composure at the line.
Like I said before, it’s about how we deal with it. Keep plugging, “gril.”