“Land! An island! We devoured it greedily with our eyes and woke the others, who tumbled out drowsily and stared in all directions as if they thought our bow was about to run on to a beach. Screaming sea birds formed a bridge across the sky in the direction of the distant island, which stood out sharper against the horizon as the red background widened and turned gold with the approach of the sun and full daylight.”—Kon-Tiki 

It was July 30, 1947, when the Kon-Tiki expedition first sighted Polynesia’s Tuamotu Islands. The handmade raft had been drifting across the Pacific Ocean for nearly 100 days and 4,300 miles, captained by Norwegian experimental archaeologist Thor Heyerdahl.

Sixty-four years later, a different kind of adventurer—backpacking travel blogger Ben Groundwater—visited Heyerdahl’s Tuamotu Islands and found a small organic-worshipping New Testament Church cult that harvests its own sea salt and ferments its own fish sauce along with raising vegetables, chickens, and pigs in a tropical paradise. “As places in which to save yourself go, you could do worse,” points out Groundwater, author of the travel memoir Five Ways to Carry a Goat: A Blogger’s World Tour. “You putter up in a little boat, moor in the clear, green waters of the lagoon, walk up the wooden pier and enter the Garden of Eden, which, whether by chance or design, seems to have a distinct lack of apple trees.”

Headed by Taiwanese prophet Elijah Hong, the cult comprises just four women and five men, along with their children. Groundwater had a chance to tour the island encampment:

[W]e come across the island’s kitchen facilities, with a few wok burners fired by dried coconut husks. I figure in a God-given utopia such as this, it would be a one-in, all-in sort of situation when it comes to chores.

“So, who does the cooking?” I ask Jacob. “Do you share it around?” Jacob smiles and shakes his head.

“No, the women do the cooking.” Oh. Well, hardly utopia for them then, is it?

Ah, well. In any case, it’s a great excuse to excavate your bookshelf for your schoolchild copy of Kon-Tiki and head outside to reread one of the world’s greatest real-life adventures.

Note: As an update of the 1950 Academy Award–winning documentary Kon-Tiki, a dramatized film version is currently being filmed by a Norwegian production company.  

Source: Sydney Morning Herald  

Image by Poverarte, licensed under Creative Commons. 

In New York City, an intense battle over new bike lanes has erupted into a fierce cultural war. But New York Press  reminds us that this isn’t the first time a new mode of transportation has opened a schism in the city’s social fabric. Aaron Napartek, who founded the bike advocacy site Streetsblog, writes:

The tabloid ravings, harsh police tactics and political posturing aimed against bikes and bike lanes may seem intense today. In a historic context, however, the Bike Backlash of 2011 is nothing compared to the battle that took place during the decade after World War I when organized “motordom” carved out its place on New York City streets. …

University of Virginia professor Peter Norton details the early history of the car and the city in his wonky but fascinating book, Fighting Traffic. He describes the “blood, grief and anger in the American city” and the “violent revolution in the streets” of New York and other U.S. cities as automobile owners bullied their way on to city streets, literally leaving a trail of mangled children’s bodies in their wake.

In the 1920s, motor vehicle crashes killed more than 200,000 Americans, a staggering number considering how many fewer cars actually existed in those days. These days, 35,000 or so Americans are killed in car wrecks annually. Most of the dead are drivers and passengers on highways and in rural places. In the 1920s, most of the dead were kids living in cities. In the first four years after the Armistice of World War I, more Americans were killed in car wrecks than had died in battle in France.

Some critics of the time called the automobile “a pagan idol demanding sacrifice,” according to Norton, and street mobs sometimes set upon reckless motorists who’d hit pedestrians.

Now, the body count in today’s bike lane wars is admittedly no comparison. But the tenor of the rhetoric is often just as shrill. “Bike lanes have gone from simple strips of pavement festooned with green and white paint to sponges for a sea of latent­ cultural and economic anxieties,” writes New York magazine in a dispatch from the front lines, “Is New York too New York for bike lanes?”

Naparstek is ultimately hopeful about the outcome in Gotham: “Minds will change and the Great Bike Backlash will soon come to an end. … We’re just waiting for the culture to catch up to the infrastructure.”

UPDATE 8/9/2011: A new poll shows two out of three New Yorkers support the new bike lanes, the New York Observer reports—but only 27 percent believe more lanes should be added. 

Source: New York Press, Streetsblog, New York, New York Observer  

Image by BKLYN guy , licensed under Creative Commons .  

If the death of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world, as Edgar Allen Poe famously argued in 1846, then is the death of a beautiful woman’s child the second most poetical topic? So it would seem to filmmaker Terrence Malick, whose artful Tree of Life tries to gain emotional weight from actress Jessica Chastain’s soulful eyes and shapely ankles in the role of Mrs. O’Brien, a 1950s housewife whose son tragically dies.

It’s an image-driven film. Cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki finds transcendent beauty in everything upon which he turns the camera, from fluttering dresses to bursting sunspots. But even as Malick’s sparse script teases out complexities in Mrs. O’Brien’s husband (played by Brad Pitt)—by turns domineering and vulnerable and loving, a man tormented by lost dreams of becoming a classical pianist—it grants no such depth to Mrs. O’Brien. Despite being a central character, she has no back story before motherhood, no vices, no lost dreams, and almost no dialogue. Instead, the camera roves insistently over her lips, her clavicles, the nape of her neck, her calves, and her slim waist with a single message: Feminine beauty equals virtue.

The New York Times calls the storyline archetypal, familiar, recognizable. In his exploration of the family’s tragic loss, Malick certainly seems to be striving for the universal, even bringing the viewer back to the creation of the cosmos in a mid-film nature documentary tracing the origin of God’s inscrutability. Filmspotting critics Adam Kempenaar and Matty Robinson, who loved the film, wisely point out that “the connective tissue that runs throughout this film will impact so many people in so many disparate ways.” For me, the familiar impact was that of a woman being voiceless.

Source: New York Times, Filmspotting 

Image by LollyKnit, licensed under Creative Commons. 

 

Despite the fact that these artistic arguments have provoked plenty of controversy each in their day, none of them really managed to change many minds. Beaumont's story questioned the oppression to gay people nearly 50 years ago, but not much is different now. In recent years, in fact, a widespread social movement to ban gays from gaining the right to marry has led to anti-gay marriage laws in 29 states. Neither did Charlton Heston, Matt Stone and Trey Parker, and M.I.A. manage to contribute much to solving the problem of racial injustice.

Further, there is growing evidence that, when it comes to social issues in America, it is becoming increasingly impossible to change anyone's already fixed ideas. According to a 2007 RAND study titled "Polarized Politics and Policy Consequences," between 1960 and 2000 the elite members (elected officials, activists, and other major players) in each political party have moved away from the political center and grown increasingly homogeneous in their stance regarding a greater breadth of social issues. Voting districts, too, have grown less prone to vote against a candidate from a party that has been politically favored there, and voters are increasingly sticking with parties they have tended to favor in the past. This greater polarization in political discourse amounts to, according to the RAND study, increased legislative "gridlock" (defined as “the share of salient issues on the nation’s agenda left in limbo at the close of each Congress”) and less tendency to develop legislative compromises, among many other problems. According to one study cited by RAND, the least polarized congressional terms in the past fifty years produced between 60 percent and 166 percent more legislation than did the most polarized terms. Of particular concern to the RAND authors is the thought that such polarization may prevent thoughtful consideration of serious long-term policy challenges such as "the growth of entitlement spending, Social Security solvency, and health care reform."

In the face of such a dysfunctional and polarized political discourse, when rhetorically reductive works of art such as Charles Beaumont's "The Crooked Man" are released and their with-us-or-against-us messages are digested, it is likely both sides of the issue just grow ever more polarized. After all, in an argument in which no middle ground is offered the only logical political stance is to dig in and fight violently for your view, rather than compromise. One need only to tune into the political wire on any given day, or listen to a random "no-compromise" speech by a random party leader, to know this is true. 

In the end, while artistic exercises like "The Crooked Man" and "Planet of the Apes" provide entertaining thought experiments to their audiences, they, much like modern American political rhetoric, are no substitute for thoughtful and effective public policy initiatives.  

Michael Fallon is a writer, editor, and non-profit administrator based out of St. Paul, Minnesota. Hie work has appeared in Art in America, American Craft, Public Art Review, Minneapolis-St. Paul Magazine, the OC Weekly, City Pages, and many other publications. Read his previous posts here. 

Both images are licensed under Creative Commons.

As homes go into foreclosure and offices acquire a ghost town emptiness, it’s hard not to feel skeptical when San Francisco architect Kurt Lavenson praises the effect of the recession. “For my part,” he claims in ARCADE (Spring 2011), “I am learning to embrace the slowdown for its cathartic qualities. The stillness has within it another kind of wealth—one of reflection, grounding and opportunity. I have come to appreciate the fallow period.”

It’s a provocative statement issued to a world of underwater homeowners and laid-off workers. But Lavenson doesn’t write from a position of economic immunity. His own architecture firm has experienced the profound slowdown that has plagued so many businesses. A once-constant list of ready clients, built over decades, has been lost to gaping periods of time without work.

Still, zenlike, Lavenson values this fiscally sparse time the same way a farmer values a crop field lying idle for a season, regenerating its soil for the next round of planting. It was a midlife economic low, he tells us, that propelled 49-year-old Frank Gehry from a conventional architect to a worldwide icon. “Taking time to pause, to lay fallow, allows us to connect with that wisdom and reach a fundamentally new kind of productivity,” Lavenson contends.

If you feel doomed by the economy that has put your job, your home, and (seemingly) your lifelong success in jeopardy, you need to read Lavenson’s inspired article celebrating the downturn. Despite initially raising my eyebrows, Lavenson ultimately convinces me—reminds me, really—that in loss there is beautiful opportunity, in crisis there is beautiful reward.

Source: ARCADE 

Image by TimWilson, licensed under Creative Commons. 

You’ve heard the old phrase “You are what you eat.” A new photography venture called The Last Meals Project amends the adage into “You were what you ate.” Photographer Jonathon Kambouris juxtaposes death row mug shots with a description of the inmate’s last meal, and then superimposes photos of the food on top. The effect is quieting and humbling, bringing the viewer closer to the humanity behind the menace.

Kambouris first became fascinated with death row inmates and last meals after reading a newspaper clipping about the final day of Oklahoma City bomber Timothy McVeigh. “The story spoke of the build up to the execution and described his final moments and last meal,” he told Twenty-Four HoursZine. “When I read that Timothy McVeigh chose two pints of mint chocolate chip ice cream as his last meal, it immediately sent a shiver down my spine and left a lasting effect on me.”

“The last meal is the last choice one can make before being put to death, Kambouris explains. “Because of the extreme importance of this ritual, this choice of a last meal is unarguably honest and true.”

(Utne recently covered the moral politics of the death penalty. In one article, Sister Helen Prejean talks about America’s bloody obsession with retribution. In another, a Texas-based writer chronicles a death row inmate’s final twelve days.) 

Source: Twenty-Four Hours Zine

Images courtesy of The Last Meals Project and Jonathon Kambouris. 

How did you choose your child’s name? Or, if you’re still awaiting the first visit from the stork, what are some factors that will affect your naming decision? Will you name the tyke after a great-grandparent or favorite author? Would you still name your son “Colin” or your daughter “Veronica” if a Colin or a Veronica lived down the street? The metrics for every couple and every child are different. But, statistically speaking, the chances are that you won’t name your child to honor another person.

“We don’t name babies to honor people any more,” writes Laura Wattenberg at the unsurprisingly overlooked pre-parenting website The Baby Name Wizard. “Yes, that’s too sweeping a statement. You’re probably dredging up examples right now to prove me wrong. But on a broad, societal level it’s dramatically true—a sweeping statement to represent a sweeping change.”

Wattenberg cites some telling internal statistics from The Baby Name Wizard. After the historic election of Barack Obama in 2008, only about 60 more babies were named “Barack” or “Obama” than in the previous year. Now, you might say, Barack Obama is a pretty unconventional name for a bunch of conventional Americans. But compare 2008 to 1896. Democratic nominee William Jennings Bryan saw his country name 1-in-2,400 children either the unconventional “Jennings” or the unconventionally spelled “Bryan” after his campaign. According to Wattenberg, Jennings’ presidential run had an effect “30 times bigger than Obama’s. It was enough to rank both names in the top 300 for the year. And in case your American history is a little shaky: Bryan lost the election.”

That’s not to say that parents aren’t naming children after leaders. Interestingly, parents are hedging. “We do name babies after presidents today, but we wait until their history is fully written, just in case,” writes Wattenberg. “Ronald Reagan’s death inspired far more little Reagans than his election did.”

Like a pair of designer sunglasses, more and more baby names are chosen for being fashionable. “As sound and style play ever larger roles in naming decisions, homages have to yield,” she writes. “Note, for instance, the decline of ‘Juniors,’ and the way grandparents are increasingly honored with middle names or initials rather than direct namesakes. We still love our parents (and ourselves), but style comes first.”

Wattenberg concludes on a final anecdote that suggests that honor naming isn’t entirely out of style—it has just gotten more obscure:

The homage names that do still pop up take different forms, like naming after crime victims. Compare two different figures who were big in the news in 2009: Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger and Caylee Anthony. Captain Sullenberger had the word “hero” permanently attached to his name for saving the lives of hundreds of passengers on a doomed airplane. Ms. Anthony, a toddler, was tragically murdered. The naming effect was a thousand more Caylees, and scarcely a Sully to be seen.

Source: The Baby Name Wizard 

Image by tamakisono , licensed under Creative Commons . 

In this continuing series, Utne Reader Art Director Stephanie Glaros explains the process behind an Utne Reader illustration. 

The article “An A for Environmental Effort” talks about efforts by various schools to teach environmental literacy. When choosing an artist to illustrate it, I wanted someone who could take a serious topic and infuse it with child-like optimism. Not many illustrators have quite the versatility in their artwork as Gwenda Kaczor does. Her whimsical style lends itself well to both conceptual and decorative illustration (while most illustrators tend to lean one way than the other). She’s also one of the few illustrators I’ve worked with who provide color sketches, which is an added bonus. I thought all of her ideas were great, but couldn’t resist the unique shape and vibrant colors of the stacked blocks idea.

Since its inception in 1984, Utne Reader has relied on talented artists to create original images for stories that express powerful emotions, brilliant new ideas, and humorous storytelling. Browsing through back issues of Utne Reader is like a tour of “Who’s Who” in the illustration world. Artists like Gary Baseman, Brad Holland, Anita Kunz, Bill Plympton, and Seymour Chwast have graced our pages over the years, to name just a few. 

During the final showdown, the arch nemesis usually makes some kind of grandiloquent speech to the hero. This is how comic books and superhero movies work. The villain taunts the do-gooder, narrates his twisted personal history, or brashly reveals details of his master plan.* So many words are spilled, but the inner meditations of both hero and crook remain unknown, except for a few expository thought bubbles. But that’s about to change; the thought bubble just got a radical makeover.

SVK, an experimental one-shot comic written by Warren Ellis (of Transmetropolitan notoriety) and Matt Brooker, has an extra layer of subtext hidden among its pages. Illuminating the comic’s pages with ultraviolet light reveals additional dialogue that belies characters’ most secret thoughts. (Comparison below.) SVK is a cyberpunky crime story “about cities, technology and surveillance, mixed with human themes of the power, corruption and lies that lurk in the data-smog of our near-future.” The comic comes with a small UV-emitting reader, so you don’t need to bring the comic to a rave to read the invisible ink.

“Comics break the rules of storytelling, invent new ones, and break them again—more often than almost any other medium,” explains SVK’s design company BERG. “This graphic novella is about looking—an investigation into perception, storytelling and optical experimentation.”

Co. Design is excited for what the comic says about the increasingly hard-to-pinpoint border between the digital world and the physical one: “Given Ellis’s proclivity for dystopian futurism and BERG’s penchant for weird techno-wizardry, we’re betting the story involves some interesting variations on themes of augmented reality.” A commenter on BERG’s blog has an exciting idea about where the future of comics might lead: “I’ve been wondering myself if there was a way to animate comics by using a Smartphone as a viewer. You could embed tracer objects with the comic frames and the phone would track movement, perhaps even play sound effects and dictate the dialogue.”

*Supervillains can, of course, be women, too. 

Source: BERG, Co. Design 

Images courtesy of BERG. 

In this continuing series, Utne Reader Art Director Stephanie Glaros explains the process behind an Utne Reader illustration.  

One of the fun things about being an art director is all the awesome mail I receive. My inbox is overflowing with postcards from artists vying for my attention. Note to illustrators: a handwritten message works wonders. I tack my favorites to a bulletin board that serves as visual stimuli when I contemplate what to do for art. When I was thinking about how to illustrate the story “Jelly Roll’s Storyville,” I perused my wall of postcards, and came across one from Brett Affrunti that had exactly the vintage feel I was looking for. I referred to this image (below, left) when I contacted Brett, and asked him to create something “narrative/realistic” in his vintage style that portrays “Lomax as sort of a music geek, and Morton as the flashy-dressing musician” being interviewed. Brett did a lot of research for this piece, not only about the two men, but also the Coolidge Auditorium, and the disc recorders Lomax actually used for the interview. His sketches reflect his research, and the final piece turned out even better than I imagined. 

Since its inception in 1984, Utne Reader has relied on talented artists to create original images for stories that express powerful emotions, brilliant new ideas, and humorous storytelling. Browsing through back issues of Utne Reader is like a tour of “Who’s Who” in the illustration world. Artists like Gary Baseman, Brad Holland, Anita Kunz, Bill Plympton, and Seymour Chwast have graced our pages over the years, to name just a few.