Monday, November 30, 2009

Under the Spell of Beowulf


I love the poem Beowulf - have taught, thought about, translated, published about, read, and re-read it countless times (well, only one translation experience, which was fun, but more than enough!). And just as cliche has it about all wonderful art, I find something new and exciting every time I encounter it.

I first heard Benjamin Bagby perform Beowulf in 1993 at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. The venue was quite small, holding at most fifty people - small enough for the performance to have an intimate feel.

Bagby has reconstructed an Anglo-Saxon harp based on fragments like the one found at Sutton Hoo (a huge Anglo-Saxon burial find). He uses the harp to accompany himself as he performs the poem in Anglo-Saxon. The magazine Andante has an excellent article about Bagby and his close research into medieval and older music.

Traditional Old English poetics - two strong beats in each of two half lines across a caesura, together with alliteration, in particular - drive the poem with dramatic sound and rhythm. Beowulf is compelling to listen to, especially when the calibre of the scop's performance is as good as Bagby's.

My fellow attendees knew no Anglo-
Saxon, but not knowing the language was a benefit for them; with no focus on the meaning of the words, the audience is held by the powerful sounds. When I saw Bagby, I knew enough Anglo-Saxon to get caught up in trying to follow the story instead of just getting lost in the surge of the sound. Still, it was an unforgettable experience.

There are several translations of the poem, both in poetry and prose, and several movies, books, comics, and plays based on it.

My first introduction to the poem was the story of Beowulf's fight with Grendel in a children's book. Although I was never a big fan of monster stories, there was something, even then, powerful and compelling about one unarmed man besting an evil monster, and all those crashing beams and benches thrilled me!

The Norton Anthology of English Literature contained a prose version over several editions which was actually very good, inspite of the fact that it was prose. The decision may well have been made because there are some really terrible translations in poetry.


Very, very happily, Norton now contains the Seamus Heaney  (a Nobel laureate) translation in poetry, one of the best ever. Seamus Heaney reads excerpts from the poem here .



Beowulf endures because it is powerful,  primal, and compelling. I will never tire of reading it or hearing it read.


The video clip is of Benjamin Bagby performing the section of the poem about the arrival of Grendel on the scene. Enjoy!


Saturday, November 28, 2009

Weird, Wise, Wonderful

That the internet is a weird, informative, interesting place is no surprise, but I am constantly surprised anyway.

These are my favourites from last week.


Lifeshighway has a fun, funny blog about yard art: I entered a picture of my garden gnome and got 6 points in the ongoing contest. Blog readers submit photos of yard art - their own or ones they find along life's highway.


(The celebrity gnome is pictured at right!)


On a much more somber note is Pierre Le Roux's post The Gift of Death on his sometimes humourous, sometimes serious, always interesting blog about gay life. The post is a real eye-opener.


I always enjoy Owen Gray's posts in Northern Reflections, partly because they're good and partly (I suspect) because we seem to be of similar mind about politics and education. Last Monday's post Whatever It Takes is exce
llent.

Last but not least for this week is the website of Dream Hat Photography, featuring the photos of Gerry Daniel. Daniel's work inspires me; I don't want to copy, but always have the feeling that my photos could be like his when they grow up.

Friday, November 27, 2009

Fridays Are Special

Every Friday, I cook something a little special for dinner. We put our feet up and share a bottle of wine - and always have chocolate for dessert.

Sometimes, I know exactly what I will cook; the ingredients, seasonings, and final presentation all come together in a single vision. I like those days because I can relax, shop, and cook - no stress. Other days, I never do get an inspiration and we order in; it doesn't happen very often. Most Fridays, I have ingredients in mind - what's in the fridge, a craving for something - and the idea for the final dish evolves throughout the day.




Today is one of those days. I have all the ingredients I will use and some ideas, but no decisions yet.



The first ingredient is green peppers.




Roasted.










Hmmm. What to have with roasted peppers.  Of course, polenta! I have a wonderful and easy recipe for polenta from Paula Wolfert's The Slow Mediterranean Kitchen; I have modified it slightly.

To serve 2 or 3:

3 1/2 - 4 cups water (use less for firmer polenta, more for softer)
1 cup cornmeal (organic, medium or course stoneground works very well)
1 TLBSP olive oil
1 scant tsp salt

Preheat oven to 350. Lightly oil 8 x 8 baking dish. Put all ingredients into the baking dish and stir well (the cornmeal will settle almost immediately, but it's okay). Bake for 1 hour. Remove from oven and let it rest for minimum 10 minutes. It has to set up or will be a bit soft.

I find it works best if I let it cool completely, then cut into squares which can be fried or heated in the oven. I love this recipe; no endless stirring. It tastes great and has a lovely texture.








Dinner is shaping up. Polenta and roasted green peppers; so far, so good.






Some tomatoes, a little sausage and I'm almost there.


Parmesan cheese, too.


This is sounding good!
.
The annual Beaujolais nouveau release was last week. A perfect partner for these dinner ingredients, and this year is supposed to be especially good. Hope it's not sold out. Another gamay, perhaps?

Thursday, November 26, 2009

The "Truth" in Memoir

 “Beauty is truth, truth beauty,”—that is all
  Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

These lines from John Keats's poem "Ode on a Grecian Urn" might well express one side of an argument about truth in literature, most expressly truth in memoir.

In this argument, the beauty in Keats's poem may stand in for the overall effect of a piece, the beauty of the words on the page, the arc of the story, or even the refusal of meaning. Literal, factual truth and embellished "truth"  interact to create the final work. It is unimportant whether the reader knows which is which or the ratio between them. The writer's contract with the reader (if indeed one even exists) is fulfilled by the book the reader holds in her hands.

The other side of the argument about truth in memoir states that memoir is a form of autobiography. It is more than just slightly based on truth: By calling something a memoir, the writer makes a contract with the reader that there is more literal truth in the work than there is embellishment, and whatever embellishment exists is minor and only for artistic purposes or to protect innocent parties. Anything more than minor adjustments constitutes lying.



Anyone familiar with the case of James Frey's memoir A Million Little Pieces and the furor it caused has heard the argument, which was ultimately played out on the Oprah Winfrey Show. Oprah chose the book for her book club in September 2005, and like all the books she chooses, it went right to the top of the best seller lists.

In January 2006, some smouldering coals about the supposed facts in the book burst into flame and high controversy erupted. (The link is to Wikipedia which has a decent rendering of the events and timelines and links to all the pertinent players.) I don't want to delve into the details of the controversy regarding who said what when; the argument about truth in memoirs is what interests me.

When Frey's embellishments were originally outed, Larry King interviewed him, and Oprah called in to defend him. Her comments employ the "Beauty is truth" side of the argument:
Whether or not the cars' wheels rolled up on the sidewalk or whether he hit the police officer or didn't hit the police officer is irrelevant to me. What is relevant is that he was a drug addict who spent years in turmoil, from the time he was 10 years old, drinking and -- and tormenting himself and his parents...And, out of that, stepped out of that history to be the man that he is today, and to take that message to save other people and allow them to save themselves. That's what's important about this book and his story.
Soon though, Oprah, for reasons unclear, switched to the opposite side of the argument in which literal truth was more important than the beauty of the virtual truth of the message: On her show on January 26/06, Oprah chastized Frey publicly:
James Frey is here and I have to say it is difficult for me to talk to you because I feel really duped. But more importantly, I feel that you betrayed millions of readers. I think it's such a gift to have millions of people to read your work and that bothers me greatly. So now, as I sit here today I don't know what is true and I don't know what isn't.
Many things followed: Oprah no longer recommended the book; the existing imprint and future ones came to contain a disclaimer that the memoir was semi-fictional; critics and readers debated about "truth" in literature and memoir; both Oprah and James Frey have moved on, neither seemingly the worse for wear. Frey has written and had another book published - Bright Shiny Morning (2008), a safe work of fiction!

The question remains, though, about the nature of memoir and what readers can rightfully expect regarding the truth in a work of art.


In his article "Shelve it under navel-gazing" in The Washington Post, Jonathan Yardley reviews Ben Yagoda's new book Memoir: A History. Yagoda delves into the long history of memoir and its precursors; he also takes up the question of truth and the concern over truth in memoir that has quite a history itself.

Part of the review deals with memory, which of course has much to do with truth. Yardley quotes Yagoda:
"the human memory is by nature untrustworthy: contaminated not merely by gaps, but by distortions and fabrications that inevitably and blamelessly creep into it." Memory "is itself a creative writer," and the combination of "memory like Swiss cheese, arrogant confidence in its integrity -- seems to be a human trait, and is certainly reflected in most autobiographies . . . which do not grant even the possibility that the chronicle they offer -- including the word-for-word transcription of conversations held half a century before -- is less than 100 percent accurate."
Both Yagoda and Yardley are clear: memoir is unreliable. So what's a reader to do?

I believe that Oprah's and the readers' anger with Frey was, and should have been, not so much because of the fiction that found its way into his memoir. Oprah had it right when she implied that the "truth" of the book was in its beauty, the beauty of Frey's rise out of addiction and the inspiration that gave to the world.

Where it all went terribly wrong was that in public, in person, Frey as himself, not as his memoir's persona, lied about the facts in the book. His publisher got it wrong too. If Frey had invoked the license of literature to give us a virtual truth, he would have been fine and people would have been happy with the beauty and truth his work had given them.



.



















Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Defining Women, Inviting Violence

(November 25 is International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women and kicks off 16 days of activism to end violence against women. This post was written especially for the Bloggers Unite event in support of the UN initiative. )



It's no coincidence that second wave feminism and the civil rights movement of the sixties and seventies developed at a time when the nuture side of the nature/nuture equation was predominant. Both movements fostered the development of people according to their abilities, strengths, and dreams, rather than according to a rigidly essentialist view. Although the road was not without setbacks, both from within and from without, in the West we are in a place now where gender and race are somewhat less restrictive.


But it is no done deal, either. In the last several years - nearly two decades, now - there has been a backlash against the gains women have made. Susan Faludi was one of the first to write about the trend in her 1991 book Backlash: the Undeclared War Against American Women.

For the last few years, the nature side of the equation has made quite a comeback, with researchers from both science and humanities disciplines insisting that we are "hard-wired" for almost everything, including gender roles - the old, ongoing, reactionary, stifling, male-privileging gender roles.

And it's not surprising, considering that even women's modest gains undermine a centuries-old power structure bent on recapturing the little bit it has lost and shoring up its sagging infrastructure.

When Plato declared the world of forms more real than the material, when the Bishops of Christendom decided on the true nature of  Christ's relationship to God and the method of his incarnation, when the Roman church claimed apostolic succession from Peter for its bishop, the Vicar of Christ, women were excluded from the seat of power. 

The great abyss between male and female was effected and male privilege (sexual and otherwise) was entrenched in politics, religion, philosophy, and ideology.

The gender coup of classical Greece and its offspring Christianity led to definitions of women that control them and keep them subject to male power. The definitions are too, too familiar: women are defined as weak; emotional; caregiving; sexually depraved; fertile; enmeshed in nature, rather than reason; provided for man's succour, service, and sex.

 Woman is the chaste virgin queen or modest wife, valiantly eschewing her depraved nature and deserving of male protection, or the debauched woman, unwilling to renounce her evil ways, thereby making herself deserving only of male anger and abuse.

History is full of cases of violence against women perpetrated because they did not, would not, or could not live up (or down) to society's definitions of them.

Recent times are no exception. This year, on December 6th, is the twentieth anniversary of the Montreal Massacre in which gunman Marc Lepine shot and killed 14 female engineering students and 13 other students at Montreal's Ecole Polytechnique. To the female engineering students he said, "You're women, you're going to be engineers. You're all a bunch of feminists. I hate feminists."  Then he systematically gunned them down. Women do not become engineers, according to Lepine's definition - and not according to the definition of many who deplore women taking "men's jobs," a common complaint at the time.

Some of the most contested issues in society revolve around women, marriage, and reproductive rights. It's no coincidence that some of the most vocal, dangerous, and charged rhetoric centres on abortion, gay marriage (and the nature of marriage), family planning and birth control. For centuries, marriage, pregnancy, and the fetishization of motherhood have defined women and kept them in their place.

We see enormous concern about boys in a supposedly too-feminine world; we see the likes of the American group of male politicians who call themselves The Family and grant each other the right to subservient wives, sex with whomever they choose, and a will to power that would make Nietschze quake.

And we see sexual slavery, sexual abuse, domestic violence, and honour killings - all because our human societies define women in ways that invite it all. And we say it is in their nature.

We must have as many voices as possible saying that this must stop, but we must realize that it will never stop as long as we don't fight the battle where it starts - with definition, with words.









Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Because the Lord Chamberlain Says So


If I were being criticized, I think I would rather it be for something vulgar, coarse, or tactless than for something inappropriate and unacceptable. I could be inappropriate by standing out in the crowd or unacceptable because I am the wrong height or age - hardly much fun or even my fault. But I could be tactless because I had just told off the person everyone loves to hate at work, or vulgar because I showed too much cleavage - things more worthy of criticism (and surely more fun).

Edward Skidelsky, in his article "Words That Think for Us" in Prospect (Nov.18/09), believes that the words"inappropriate" and "unacceptable" should be removed from the language. They are words of political correctness that reduce what was previously labelled as immoral behaviour to mere faux pas against social and professional convention.


We avoid moral judgement, "hoping to eliminate....intolerance,"  but may not be as successful as we would like to think:
But this new, neutralised language does not spell any increase in freedom. When I call your action indecent, I state a fact that can be controverted. When I call it inappropriate, I invoke an institutional context—one which, by implication, I know better than you. Who can gainsay the Lord Chamberlain when he pronounces it “inappropriate” to wear jeans to the Queen’s garden party? This is what makes the new idiom so sinister. Calling your action indecent appeals to you as a human being; calling it inappropriate asserts official power.
According to Skidelsky, we just drive intolerance underground, where it rages against seeming "bureaucratic neutrality," which is his main reason for doing away with the words.

Skidelsky is right that one can raise an argument about what is indecent in a way that one cannot about what is inappropriate. Some of the older words of moral judgement are even defined by law which provides precedent for many such arguments. He is wrong, though, about the reason for the successful "career" of the newer words.

I disagree with Skidelsky's analysis about why we use the more politically correct words. He sees it as an attempt at tolerance, an avoidance of prickly morality. I see it as a power ploy, the cousin of 1984-type double speak.


"Inappropriate" and "unacceptable" should be thrown out, not because they neutralize, unlike older words of moral judgement, but because they are more vague and less defined. They are slippery and can define pretty much anything.

So it's not a liberal pluralist agenda to use these words; I see it, rather, as a conservative authoritarian agenda. Without the well-understood definitions of the older words of moral judgement, those in power in government, in business, anywhere really, can find anything inappropriate and unacceptable as it suits them. Skidelsky says it himself: the words invoke official power, without reference to the nuisance of argument.

Much is and has been at stake in the business of definition. Greek citizens could vote in the youth of democracy, but by definition women and slaves were not citizens. In Canada, the status (definition of who is aboriginal) of aboriginal peoples is established by parliament. Women are venerated and protected by law and religion, as long as they do not stray from the official definition of what a real woman is.

Skidelsky's example of the Lord Chamberlain makes the point perfectly. The Lord Chamberlain may find your jeans tasteless, crass, vulgar, inappropriate, and/or unacceptable attire for the Queen's garden party. The point is not the adjective he uses; the point is that in his official capacity, the Lord Chamberlain may find anything he (or the Queen) chooses as inappropriate or unacceptable for any reason at all.


Edward Skidelsky is a lecturer in philosophy at Exeter University. His book Ernst Cassirer: The Last Philosopher of Culture is forthcoming from Princeton University Press.





I would like to invite Edward Skidelsky to my soiree.




(flower photo credit)

Monday, November 23, 2009

Garnished According to Their Nature

Thirty-plus years ago, my, then, husband and I belonged to a "gourmet club," all the rage at the time. Ours involved four or five couples who rotated hosting four-or five-, even six-course dinners, one each month. The host couple prepared and served all the food; the guests brought all the drinks - pre-dinner cocktails, wine for the various courses, and brandy to have with coffee.

For awhile it was great fun. Like everyone else we knew, we were seriously "into" gourmet, mostly classic French, cooking, had ridiculously expensive cookware, and everything else for cooking and serving. After a year or so, we all became absurdly competitive, and great fun turned into great stress. One couple after another cancelled their turn, until we just stopped.

Browsing through Larousse Gastronomique reminds me of those days - the joy of finding a wonderful recipe and the anxiety of trying to find something extra special.


I was reading through the hors d'oeuvre section in Larousse recently--good entertainment in itself. Even in the seventies, I'm not sure whether I knew there were so many things to do with anchovies.

Always thinking of soirees and things for them these days, I decided to do a post on hors d'oeuvres. Larousse does not disappoint here. There are 32 pages of hors d'oeuvres, hot, cold, simple and sumptuously complicated.

I've purposely -and whimsically -  chosen some of the more complicated hors d'oeuvres, with ingredients that many would be unable to get. I have never prepared any of these recipes, but they are exactly the kind of thing we used to make for our gourmet dinners.


Imagine my surprise when a search turned up a picture of Salad of Ox Muzzle!  Although the preparation does not sound difficult, according to Larousse, the dish can be purchased ready made. In France at one time, but I wonder if it would be available today.



Jellied eels in Chablis was another interesting find. The ingredients for it would be more readily available. I found a picture of a bowl of jellied eels, but not in Chablis!



Scallop shells of skate liver and brown butter does not appeal to me. Calf's liver is nice, and wonderful things are possible with chicken livers, but fish liver? There was no picture for this recipe to be found, although Wikipedia refers to skate liver as an English dish.

Bone marrow fritters are more common than I thought they would be. I didn't find a picture, but be warned, a search turns up medical photos that no one wants to see, especially in the context of food!

Rarely do I cook, eat, or drink the way I did all those years ago. I rarely have the patience for the intricate recipes, or the fortitude for so much food and drink.



These days, I prefer to prepare and eat simpler dishes which can be stunning and sophisticated with intense, satisfying flavours. Artichokes roasted and dressed with butter and garlic are delicious.



Caviar served with chopped onion and egg always delights.


Beets are readily available and nutritious. There are five recipes for them in Larousse, from the most simple way of dressing roasted beets with a vinaigrette or a cream sauce, to the only slightly more complicated presentation with chopped egg. Delicious.


Canapes is an entire category within the hors d'oeuvre section, with a page and a half of listings. Toast is the preferred base for the canapes and "makes a very dainty hors d'oeuvre."




The crusts should be removed and the toast slices cut into smaller pieces with a biscuit cutter.



Large slices of toast may be buttered and "garnished accordingly," then cut into various shapes.

The possibilities are endless, from the simple, to the sublime, to the ridiculous. The most important advice, appearing repeatedly in Larousse Gastronomique, is to always respect the foodstuffs and garnish them "according to their nature". 

Bon appetite and happy soiree!


(Caviar photo)
(Beet photo)
(Salad of ox muzzle photo)
(Jellied eels photo)

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Soiree's Past Week

At My Soiree's Posts - Nov 17 - 20/09



In case you missed anything. Enjoy!




Tuesday, November 17/09 - Mirror, Mirror on the Educator's Wall
Wednesday, November 18/09 - It's Winter at North 54
Thursday, November 19/09 - My Fair Doolittle
Friday, November 20/09 - Concert Nights at Home

Friday, November 20, 2009

Concert Nights at Home

When I was about eleven, my mother worked on Thursday evenings, and my dad and I had to fend for ourselves (which in those days meant that we ate the dinner mom had prepared before she left!).

After the dishes were done, dad and I would have a concert. We had a stereo - a novelty at the time - and could play either the old 78rpm records or the newer 33rpm ones (45s, too). My father had a largish collection of 78s with everything from Bach's Inventios to Spike Jones's craziness




Ah, we only had the sound when I was a kid. Spike Jones on video is a find, complete with zany sounds, lots of slapstick, even cross-dressers.

Of course at the age of eleven, I loved the Spike Jones best and could listen to it over and over, perhaps as only an eleven-year-old can. The Bach, Beethoven, and Chopin (my highbrow favourite at the time), Caruso, and Mario Lanza stuck as well, though. Since then, I have had a love of music, classical and otherwise, that I always attribute to my father.

When I was invited to an in-home concert in September, it brought back all those memories. And the concert didn't disappoint - I previously wrote a blog entry about the artist Charlie A'Court.

The idea of concerts in private homes is brilliant. For many smaller communities, it means seeing artists one would otherwise never even know about. The Home Routes method involves one host signing on for six concerts, spaced out over a few months. The tickets are very, very reasonable, and the in-home atmosphere is good, probably because it's all friends and friends of friends.

A quick Google search indicates that this is a popular method for promoting artists, and many organize such concerts for a profit.

Home Routes "is a not-for-profit organization made up of folks just like you and is dedicated to the love of music, to making music more accessible to a greater number of people and to supporting the artists that make the music."

I don't know this for sure, but believe the not-for-profit way surely has a much more down-to-earth and satisfying dynamic than a for-profit endeavour.

Then again, maybe I'm just spoiled from all the "Dad and Me" concerts that were all about love of music and sharing.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

My Fair Doolittle

With his wonderful character Alfred Doolittle, George Bernard Shaw took a humourous poke at strict, judgemental charities in his play Pygmalion.

The complaint against the charities of the day was that they would help only those who were deserving. Being deserving meant that recipients of aid would accept the middle-class ethics of the, usually, Christian societies founded to help them.

The Fabians, instead, worked for gradual reform towards universality in the distribution of resources, regardless of the religion, morality, and work ethic of the recipient.

Alfred Doolittle will take a handout if one is coming his way, will avoid work if at all possible, and drinks rather a lot. Most important of all, he is quite happy with his life and sees no reason to change his ways.

Alfred Doolittle does not wish to become middle class.

Doolittle's daughter Liza, has begun phonetics lessons with Professor Henry Higgins and is staying at his residence. Doolittle appears, demanding his rights as a father, as he believes something is "going on" between the two. Really, he wants a little something for himself.

His explanation to Higgins of his position is brilliant. He is "one of the undeserving poor" and means to stay that way, but he has problems:
...up agen middle class morality all the time. If there'sanything going, and I put in for a bit of it, it's always the samestory: "You're undeserving; so you can't have it." But my needs is as great as the most deserving widow's that ever got money out of six different charities in one week for the death of the same husband. I don't need less than a deserving man: I need more. I don't eat less hearty than him; and I drink a lot more. I want a bit of amusement, cause I'm a thinking man. I want cheerfulness and a song and a band when I feel low. Well, they charge me just the same for everything asthey charge the deserving. What is middle class morality? Just an excuse for never giving me anything.
Higgins offers ten pounds, but Doolittle will take only five because the larger sum "is a lot of money: it makes a man feel prudent like; and then goodbye to happiness."

Poor Doolittle; unbeknownst to him, Higgins sets him up to be the equivalent of a modern day motivational speaker. Doolittle becomes middle class, modestly famous, lecturing for the Wannafeller Moral Reform World League for 3000 pounds a year and must live by middle class values.

The money did indeed make him prudent like, and he's not so happy about it. Higgins's mother asks what her son has done to Doolittle. He replies: "Done to me! Ruined me. Destroyed my happiness. Tied me up and delivered me into the hands of middle class morality."

Although humourous, Doolittle's position reflects the truth of the working poor, at least those who do not wish to reform. He hasn't the nerve to give up the money, no matter how it restricts him because it would mean the workhouse:
They've got you every way you turn: it's a choice between the Skilly of the workhouse and the Char Bydis of the middle class; and I haven't the nerve for the workhouse. Intimidated: that's what I am. Broke. Bought up.

Doolittle is a delightful character and demonstrates a most serious message, despite his humour.


Probably the most famous rendition of Shaw's 1912 play is the 1964 movie My Fair Lady, starring Audrey Hepburn, Rex Harison, and the late Stanley Holloway as Alfred Doolittle. There was also a 1938 movie version called Pygmalion.


Although a musical and more lighthearted than the play, My Fair Lady still delivers the message. Holloway's Doolittle has humour, grace, dignity, and eloquence.


This scene from My Fair Lady shows Doolittle's attitudes towards work, drink, marriage, and helping one's neighbour.





I was reminded of Doolittle while reading a blog post (on ARTS and ARCHITECTURE, mainly) about the Fabian society and the stained glass window designed by GBS to commemorate it.


Wednesday, November 18, 2009

It's Winter at North 54

It's the same every year. After the first significant and lasting snowfall, I feel that it is an aberration and will go away soon. How could it possibly be winter? All will melt; the roads will be clear; no shovelling required.

But, alas, not so.

Winter is here.



These winter photos were taken at Fort George Park yesterday.




The blue of the sky, the reflective snow, and the late afternoon light make for wonderful effects.









The low-angled sunlight, shining through the windows of the museum, right.







Time to go home for some hot cocoa.


Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Mirror, Mirror on the Educator's Wall

Another Sane Voice Rises in Protest Against the Damaging and Absurd Practices of Progressive Educationalists.

It should be a headline in every newspaper in North America.

At the risk of boring my readers with yet another rant against bad pedagogy, I want to praise and promote the views of Sandra Stotsky, who refutes the self-serving blather that assaults students in classrooms every day.


In her article "Who Needs Mathmeticians for Math, Anyway?" in City Journal (Autumn 2009), Stotsky decisively rebuts the ridiculous practices and ideas about teaching math that have dominated for the last twenty or more years (and unfortunately continue to do so!).

American kids in eighth grade scored miserably in "the 2006 Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA), which claims to assess application of the mathematical knowledge and skills needed in adult life through problem-solving test items."

For its future, America needs scientists, technologists, and engineers. Schools have to prepare students with the knowledge of mathematics that enables them to tackle the education required for these jobs.
But the...worthy aims won’t be reached so long as assessment experts, technology salesmen, and math educators—the professors, usually with education degrees, who teach prospective teachers of math from K–12—dominate the development of the content of school curricula and determine the pedagogy used, into which they’ve brought theories lacking any evidence of success and that emphasize political and social ends, not mastery of mathematics.
Progressive education has been around doing its dirty work since the seventies, trying to undo traditional curriculum and practices.
During the 1970s and 1980s, educators in reading, English, and history argued that the traditional curriculum needed to be more “engaging” and “relevant” to an increasingly alienated and unmotivated—or so it was claimed—student body. Some influential educators sought to dismiss the traditional curriculum altogether, viewing it as a white, Christian, heterosexual-male product that unjustly valorized rational, abstract, and categorical thinking over the associative, experience-based, and emotion-laden thinking supposedly more congenial to females and certain minorities.

Traditional math curriculum was in the gunsights as well, but was more difficult to dismiss "because of the sequential nature of its content through the grades and its relationship to high school chemistry and physics."

But "the National Council of Teachers of Mathematics (NCTM), the chief professional organization for mathematics educators and education faculty" has found ways to make math more accessible by dumbing it down and allowing students to "construct" their own "deep conceptual understanding:"
The primary role of math teachers, constructivists say in turn, shouldn’t be to explain or otherwise try to “transfer” their mathematical knowledge to students; that would be ineffective. Instead, they must help the students construct their own understanding of mathematics and find their own math solutions.
To achieve these goals, classroom practices and curriculum with no evidence to support their effectiveness became the norm for about twenty years. In an attempt to undo this disgraceful state of affairs,
"the president [of the United States] issued an executive order in 2006 forming the National Mathematics Advisory Panel, ...composed of mathematicians, cognitive psychologists, mathematics educators, and education researchers ...[who] would examine how best to prepare students ...based on the “best evidence available...The panel found little if any credible evidence supporting the teaching philosophy and practices that math educators have promoted in their ed-school courses and embedded in textbooks for almost two decades."

The NCTM fought back,  one educator stating that
"the panel’s report offered nothing useful, since it had “restricted” itself to scientific research and ignored the “rich reflections” of educators, who, in his judgment, had produced the “deepest work in the field.”

HUH?
According to Stotsky,
These reflections, which progressive educators call “qualitative” or “practitioner” research, generally consist of educators studying their own classrooms and concluding that, yes, their methods work well.

The traditionally trained mathematicians and the others on their panel had taken too quantitive and narrowly scientific an approach; more qualitative solutions would be best, according tho the NCTM.  Or read differently, emotion should trump reason in American schools!


The movement to reform mathematics education still struggles:
even if a new Congress or Secretary of Education were to support the panel’s recommendations, it will be essentially business as usual in the public schools so long as math educators, joined by assessment experts and technology salesmen, continue to shape the curriculum.
The educationalists might do well to think through the qualitative, mirror-mirror-on-the-wall approach to teaching math (or anything else, for that matter!). When the old queen asked her mirror who was the fairest one of all, the mirror made a qualitative judgement that the new kid on the block was fairer by far.

Math education reform is the Snow White - the fairest one of all - on a tired old scene. Let's not let the self-serving educationalists put it to sleep.


Sandra Stotsky is a professor of education reform at the University of Arkansas and holds the 21st Century Chair in Teacher Quality. She is the author of What's at Stake in the K-12 Standards Wars: A Primer for Educational Policy.




I would like to invite Sandra Stotsky to my soiree.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Last Week At My Soiree

I had the privilege of having a guest post by Hels this past Saturday. Hels' post is about late 19th -century Jewish women's salons, mostly in Berlin and Paris. The post is fascinating. I would have loved to attend any of these salons.


In return, I did a guest post for Hels' blog (ART and ARCHITECTURE, mainly) about Tennyson's "The Lady of Shalott."  This was my first guest post; it was fun to do and went very smoothly. Hels is a gracious host.



Otherwise, last week was quite normal:

Monday, November 9/09 - Single Malt Excellence

Tuesday, November 10/09 - Window Dressing

Thursday, November 12/09 - Unpalatable Reasoning

Friday, Novenber 13/09 - Larousse for the Soiree



(The photo is of a painting by Perry Roth)

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Jewish Women: Later 19th-Century Salons

guest blog by
Hels
Art and Architecture, mainly


I knew a great deal about the turn-of-the-century salon run by Gertrude and Leo Stein. But I had to rely on Bilski et al, Hertz and Wilhelmy-Dollinger for their original research on the 19th century history of women’s salons.

In the original post called Jewish Women: early 19th century salons, the main points were as follows. The salon allowed educated women to establish a venue in the privacy of their own homes. The women had to be well connected in their families, either to money or to culture. Since the husbands were busy with their businesses, the cultural role could legitimately be given to the wives. But male support was essential. In the salon, like-minded people could study literature, art, philosophy or music together, plus they could support both talented artists and writers. Each saloniere chose her own theme and selected the night of the week in which she wanted the salon to be held. Each saloniere had the responsibility to decide the salon's level of for¬m¬ality and the diversity of guests she favoured. As a result of the habitués and their conversations, the hostesses, guests and the arts flourished.


Schmid, Playing Schubert’s music, 1897

In reviewing the fabulous Jewish Museum Exhibition called Jewish Women and Their Salons, Deborah Hertz wrote: "Among the many difficult questions about salons posed by the exhibit, let us dwell for a moment on the problematic of the specifically Jewish salon tradition. Our curators claim very explicitly that over time more Jewish women hosted salons than Christian women did. If true, this is significant, since for a declassed Jewish woman, salon hosting could be a huge triumph over stereotype, considering that salons began as an aristocratic practice and were thought to set the tone for high culture. The curators make much of the outsider as insider notion; precisely because they were doubly marginal, as Jews and as women, the Jewish salonières became courageous modernists. They also argue that success in salon leadership helped bring about political emancipation, of particular importance for the 18th and early 19th centuries in central Europe. But both with modernism and with emancipation, we also must consider the dark side of success. We need to attend to how the Jewish salonières might have infuriated observers outraged at their extraordinary wealth, their connections to the powerful, and their exercise of patronage" (Hertz).

Herz raised a few of the key issues but there is another issue to be raised, I believe. The salonieres' roles in music, literature and philosophy were comprehensively considered, but I was particularly interested in their role as patrons of the visual arts. Some salonieres' families loved art above all other cultural pursuits, so their salons centred on paintings.

The salons’ impact on the art world could be seen at a time when wealthy non-French art buyers believed Impressionism belonged to the French tradition of shallow showiness. Jewish collectors, on the other hand, may have been less tradition-bound and more open to modern art. At least one salon was critically important. Carl Bernstein and Felicie Rosenthal Bernstein (1850-1908) married and left St Petersburg to set up their home in Berlin. Her salon was quite into modernity and artistic risk-taking. The Bernsteins were known as the first to buy French Impressionist art in Germany, and hang them on their walls in the salon. The artist Max Liebermann, later president of the Prussian Academy of Arts, was a regular particiant. At her salon, art discussions may have led to the founding of the influential Berlin Secession; she most certainly left a legacy to the Secession in her will..

Genevieve Straus was the daughter of the composer Jacques Fromental Halévy, widow of the composer Bizet and then wife of the successful lawyer Emil Straus. Her salon in Bvd Haussmann attracted literary intellectuals and political writers. Her large round drawing-room was decorated with wonderful art, including her own portrait by Delaunay. Remember the terrible Alfred Dreyfus trial, a military-political scandal that divided France in the 1890s and the early 1900s? Straus’ salon became headquarters of pro-Dreyfus supporters who managed to expose the French government’s involvement in the nasty army affair. Degas, Debussy and other anti-Semitic habitués stormed out of her salon in outrage, and never returned. Some salon regulars, who had enjoyed the Straus hospitality for years, crossed the street to avoid her.



Marcel Proust’s notebooks, given to Straus in thanks

Art historian and critic Bernard Berenson was Gertrude and Leo Stein’s greatest mentor. He showed them around the galleries in Florence, teaching them connoisseurship and helping them buy. In particular Berenson in¬trod¬uced Leo to Paul Cézanne and Henri Matisse. Gertrude and Leo persuaded their cousin Etta Cone to buy Picasso drawings, whenever that artist was short of funds. Back in Paris, the Steins were introducing artist to artist, patron to artist, patron to patron. Their salon had walls that were packed with paintings and sketches, and art books were spread over the table so young artists could admire and learn from established masters. Georges Braque, Fernand Léger, Sonia and Robert Delaunay, Francis Picabia, Marie Laurençin and Juan Gris, as well as Guillaume Apollinaire, frequented their salon. Even when Leo Stein moved permanently to Italy, Gertrude (and later Alice B Toklas) continued the Saturday night salon, providing food and mentoring to starving artists, especially those newly arrived from Eastern Europe.




Toklas and Stein in their Paris art salon

Finally back to literature and music. The intellectual orientation of Elsa Porges Bernstein’s family home was a powerful influence: Beethoven, Wagner, Goethe and Shakespeare. She ran Munich’s most famous salon, where the literary and artistic society gathered, and she was the author of Königskinder, with music by Humperdinck. Her father, Heinrich Porges, was very fond of Richard Wagner’s music and played a very active part in establishing the Bayreuth's festival. Elsa’s daughter Eva Bernstein later studied violin in Paris where she married Klaus Hauptmann, son of writer Gerhart Hauptmann. Gerhart, Otto Brahm and Richard Strauss had been intimates member of Elsa’s salon. In these cultural circles the links between Jewish and non Jewish families were very close.

Why did this 100 year period of non-Jewish/Jewish dialogue about culture come to a rather sad end? The disruption of war, leisure time being spent on travel and new mass media meant women of leisure spent their time differently. Polite, witty conversation was of little interest by 1900.


Bernstein’s rather modest salon



Read:

1. Bilski, Emily et al Jewish Women and Their Salons: The Power of Conversation, Jewish Museum New York, 2005.

2. Hertz, Deborah Jewish High Society in Old Regime Berlin, Syracuse UP, 1988.

3. Wilhelmy-Dollinger, Petra Berlin Salons: Late C18th to early C20th, http://jwa.org/encyclopedia/article/berlin-salons-late-eighteenth-to-early-twentieth-century