Professional Documents
Culture Documents
cabinet
Immaterial Incorporated
181 Wyckoff Street Brooklyn NY 11217 USA
tel + 1 718 222 8434
fax + 1 718 222 3700
email cabinet@immaterial.net
www.immaterial.net
Editor-in-chief Sina Najafi
Senior editor Brian Conley
Editors Jeffrey Kastner, Frances Richard, David Serlin, Gregory Williams
Art directors (Cabinet Magazine) Ariel Apte and Sarah Gephart of mgmt.
Art director (Immaterial Incorporated) Richard Massey/OIG
Editors-at-large Saul Anton, Mats Bigert, Jesse Lerner, Allen S. Weiss,
Jay Worthington
Website Kristofer Widholm and Luke Murphy
Image editor Naomi Ben-Shahar
Production manager Sarah Crowner
Development director Alex Villari
Contributing editors Joe Amrhein, Molly Bleiden, Eric Bunge,
Andrea Codrington, Christoph Cox, Cletus Dalglish-Schommer, Pip Day,
Carl Michael von Hausswolff, Srdjan Jovanovic Weiss, Dejan Krsic,
Tan Lin, Roxana Marcoci, Ricardo de Oliveira, Phillip Scher, Rachel Schreiber,
Lytle Shaw, Debra Singer, Cecilia Sjholm, Sven-Olov Wallenstein
Editorial assistant James Pollack
Proofreaders Joelle Hann & Catherine Lowe
Assistants Amoreen Armetta, Emelie Bornhager, Ernest Loesser,
Normandy Sherwood
Prepress Zvi @ Digital Ink
Founding editors Brian Conley and Sina Najafi
Printed in Belgium by Die Keure
Cabinet (ISSN 1531-1430) is a quarterly magazine published by Immaterial
Incorporated. Periodicals Postage paid at Brooklyn NY.
Postmaster: Send address changes to Cabinet, 181 Wyckoff Street, Brooklyn,
NY 11217
Immaterial Incorporated is a non-profit 501 (c) (3) art and culture organization
incorporated in New York State. Cabinet is in part supported by generous grants
from the Flora Family Foundation, the New York State Council on the Arts, the
Frankel Foundation, and by donations from individual patrons of
the arts. Contributions to Immaterial Incorporated and Cabinet magazine are
fully tax-deductible.
Subscriptions
Individual one-year subscriptions (in US Dollars): United States $24,
Europe and Canada $34, Mexico $50, Other $60
Institutional one-year subscriptions (in US Dollars): United States $30,
Europe and Canada $42, Mexico $60, Other $75
Please either send a check in US dollars made out to Cabinet, OR send,
fax, or email us your Visa /Mastercard information. To process your credit card,
we need your name, card number, expiry date, and billing address. You can also
subscribe directly on our website at www.immaterial.net/cabinet with a credit
card. Back issues available in the US for $8 and in Europe, Canada, and Mexico
for $13. Institutions can also subscribe through EBSCO and Swets Blackwell.
Advertising
Email advertising@immaterial.net or call + 1 718 222 8434.
Distribution
US and Canada: Big Top Newstand Services, a division of the IPA.
For more information, call + 1 415 643 0161, fax + 1 415 643 2983,
or email info@BigTopPubs.com.
Europe: Central Books, London. Email: orders@centralbooks.com
Cabinet is also available through Tower stores around the world.
Please send distribution questions to distribution@immaterial.net
Cabinet eagerly accepts unsolicited manuscripts, preferably sent by e-mail
to proposals @immaterial.net as a Microsoft Word document or in Rich Text
Format. Hard copies should be double-spaced and in duplicate. We can only
return manuscripts if a self-addressed, stamped envelope is provided. We do
not publish poetry. Please contact us for guidelines for submitting artworks.
Contents 2002 Immaterial Incorporated & the authors, artists, translators.
All rights reserved. Unauthorized reproduction of any material here is a no-no.
The views published in this magazine are not necessarily those of the writers,
let alone the spineless editors of Cabinet.
cover: envelope recovered from the crash of the Pan American World
Airways plane Yankee Clipper in Lisbon on February 22, 1943. Courtesy
Kendall Sanford
Contributors
Magnus Brts is an artist and writer based in Stockholm. In 2000, he
published a collection of essays Orienterarsjukan och andra berttelser
(together with Fredrik Ekman). His recent exhibitions Satellites and The
Museum of Homeless Ideas were shown at Roger Bjrkholmen Gallery in
Stockholm and OK Gallery in Rijeka, Croatia (together with Zdenko Buzek).
Peter Lew is a New York-based artist whose work includes painting, installation
and sound art. He has participated in the radio project WAR!, the sound
show constriction at Pierogi gallery, and his paintings were included in Working
in Brooklyn at the Brooklyn Museum. His work has been exhibited in Austria,
Switzerland, and Japan.
David Brody is an artist who lives and works near the Kool Man depot in Brooklyn.
Matthew Buckingham is an artist based in New York. He is represented by
Murray Guy Gallery, New York, and Galleri Tommy Lund, Copenhagen.
Brian Burke-Gaffney was born in Canada in 1950 and came to Japan in 1972.
He has been professor at the Nagasaki Institute of Applied Science since 1996.
Paul Collins edits the Collins Library for McSweeneys Books, and is the
author of Banvards Folly (Picador: 2001) and the forthcoming travelogue-memoir Sixpence House (Bloomsbury USA). He lives in Portland, Oregon.
Nancy Davenport is a New York-based artist represented by Nicole Klagsburn
Gallery. Her work has been exhibited recently at the Rockford Museum in
Illinois and at the 25th So Paulo Biennial.
Andrew Deutsch is a sound/video artist who lives in Hornell, NY, and teaches
sound art at Alfred University. He is a member of the Institute for Electronic Art
at Alfred University and of the Pauline Oliveros Foundations board of directors.
Jon Dryden is a musician and writer living in Brooklyn, New York.
Elizabeth Esch is completing a dissertation in the Department of History at New
York University.
Matt Freedman is an artist and writer living in Brooklyn.
Dr. Merrill Garnett is a cancer researcher and the founder and CEO of Garnett
McKeen Laboratory, Inc. Dr. Garnett has had research laboratories at the
Central Islip State Hospital, Waldemar Medical Research Foundation,
Northport Veterans Administration Medical Center, and the High Technology
Incubator of The State University of New York at Stony Brook.
Tim Griffin is a writer, curator, and art editor of Time Out New York. His book
of essays titled Contamination, a collaborative project with artist Peter Halley,
is forthcoming from Gabrius (Milan) in September. His book of poetry, July in
Stereo, is forthcoming from Shark Press (New York).
Daniel Harris is the author of A Memoir of No One In Particular (Basic Books,
2002). He has also written The Rise and Fall of Gay Culture and Cute, Quaint,
Hungry, and Romantic: The Aesthetics of Consumerism.
David Hawkes teaches at a university in Pennsylvania. He is the author of
Ideology (Routledge, 1996) and Idols of the Marketplace (Palgrave, 2001), and
his work has recently appeared in The Nation, The Times Literary Supplement
and The Journal of the History of Ideas.
Sharon Hayes is an artist. She is currently an MFA candidate in the Interdisciplinary Studio at UCLAs Department of Art.
Brooklyn-based soundmaker Douglas Henderson has been working with
electro-acoustic composition, music for dance, and installation pieces for 20
years. He has run the Sound Arts program at the Museum School, Boston
and holds a doctorate in composition from Princeton University. He can be
reached through www.heartpunch.com.
Bill Jones is an artist and writer. He is represented by the Sandra Gering Gallery in
NY and is currently the Director of Operations of Garnett McKeen Laboratory, Inc.
Jeffrey Kastner is a New York-based writer and an editor of Cabinet.
Kris Lee and Matt Freedman met at the 1985 NCAA diving championships.
They later discovered that they were distantly related.
Nina Katchadourian is an artist who lives in Brooklyn and teaches at Brown
University. She exhibits with Debs & Co in New York and with Catharine Clark
Gallery in San Francisco.
Emma Kay lives and works in London. She has exhibited widely in Europe and
the US. She recently participated in the 2002 Sydney Biennial and has
forthcoming exhibitions at The Approach, London, the Muscarnok Kunsthalle,
Budapest, and Tate Modern, London. She has published an artists book,
Worldview (Bookworks).
columns
13
17
17
19
maIN
23
30
33
36
40
44
47
51
53
58
62
66
FAILURE
69
70
73
76
81
85
88
90
94
96
98
102
106
108
110
113
118
122
124
126
AND
128
columns
strains of bacteria in their foreheadsbacteria for which scientists have still not found a vaccine. Only under the genius
of capitalism can a toxic killer grow up to become a cosmetic
amenity.
Initially, Botox injections seem to be the latest tool
in an enormous arsenal of medical implants, injections, and
other cosmetic technologies that include collagen, silicone,
and even Gore-Tex. Virtually all of the organic or synthetic
materials injected or implanted into human bodies produce
physical side effects, many far worse than the petulant ennui
that often leads one to pursue cosmetic procedures in the
first place. As Elizabeth Haiken has described, in the first
decades of the 20th century, doctors injected paraffin wax
mixed with olive oil, goose grease, and vegetable soap into
their patients faces, breasts, and legs in order to banish
wrinkles and sculpt body parts to meet the cultural expectations of the era.2 The practice ended by the 1930s with the
high incidence of paraffin-related cancers, but the desire for
a sculpted, malleable body among patients persisted.
In the mid-1960s, famed San Francisco stripper Carol
Doda injected a pint of silicone directly into each of her
breasts. This was much more silicone than the standard
amount used in breast implants produced by Dow Corning,
which were taken off the market three decades later amid
a firestorm of controversy and litigation. And while the use
of autologous human fat, which is cleaned of biological
impurities before it is injected, seemed promising in the
early 1990s, recent case studies have revealed its unsavory
side effects. At best, the fat migrates from the injection
site to ones least-favored body part to join its kin; at worst,
the fat forms an unsightly bas-relief comparable to the shape
and volume of a small dwarf. The migration of autologous fat
in penile enlargement procedures shocked many men who
found themselves looking at penises with truly mushroomshaped heads.
The use of Botox marks a departure from the history of
earlier cosmetic implants and injections in two distinct ways.
First, it does not simply introduce an organic product (such
as paraffin or collagen) into the body; it introduces a living
microorganism, and a highly toxic one at that. Second, Botox
injections do not seek merely to produce youthful-looking
skin, or to aesthetically reshape a facial feature that will
continue to function normally. The goal of the Botox injection is to paralyze and otherwise obliterate the function of
the collateral muscles in the forehead, just above the bridge
of the nose. In practical terms, this means that one needs to
be willing to sacrifice subjective expression for wrinkle-free
features. On some level, the allure of Botox injections may
be similar to that of exotic delicacies whose charm resides
in their power to put consumers in danger: one thinks of
the pleasure/pain dialectic derived from the poisonous substances found in absinthe, psychedelic mushrooms, and the
Japanese fish called fugu. Botox, however, is distinguished
from these organic materials as an impure toxin to the body
that produceshowever temporarilya youthful appearance and not an aesthetic experience or altered state of
consciousness.
The widespread use of Botox ushers the first period
in the modern eracertainly since the rise of visual technologies in the mid-19th centurywhere facial expressions
will be disaggregated from the signified meanings to which
they are typically moored. Over time, physicians expect that
Botox customers will have to forfeit use of their forehead
or eyebrows, two key vectors through which humans typically engage in nonverbal communication. As Norbert Elias
described in his classic study The Civilizing Process, facial
gestures are a central part of the modern lexicon of performative visual cues that, along with etiquette and refined
behavior, are public markers of social class.3 In the 1860s,
Nadar captured the prototype of the exaggerated furrowed brow in his photographs of Parisian asylum
15
patients; in the 1970s, John Belushi elevated the mischievous single-raised eyebrow to an art form on Saturday Night
Live. Indeed, what the frozen foreheads of Botox consumers
call to mind, more than anything else, is the passivity and
imperturbability of European aristocracy. One imagines an
unflappable, furrow-less Queen Victoria waving from her
horse-drawn carriage, or perhaps the sunken, emotionless visage of Catherine de Medici in languid repose, with
a pomegranate in one hand and an open book in another.
These were faces indifferent to the whims of fashion or
popular opinion, born not only to rule but to resist physical
weaknesses that might link them with their social inferiors.
The iconic value of unruffled monarchs and aristocrats
may have represented the solidity of power in pre-modern
times, but in our current media-saturated culture, the desire
to humanize celebrities and political figures demands an
increased capacity to physically express a wider spectrum
of emotions than ever before. The fertile territory between
these two competing ideals of public expression is precisely
what Andy Warhol mined in his multiple silk-screened
portraits of Jackie Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe in the early
1960s. During the national mourning over Princess Dianas
death in 1997, the British public, seeking psychological
satisfaction, called in desperation for the royal family to
exhibit its collective grief through open displays of emotion.
Instead, the House of Windsors decision to affect a traditional and icy aristocratic stance seemed to many to expose
the artifice of hereditary power, rather than its permanence.
In this sense, it is hard to conceive of a more O. Henryesque historical moment than our own: an era in which
a volatile microorganism invisible to the naked eye has
achieved popularity among a social niche that is completely
indifferent to the political economy of global terrorism.
Herein lies the paradox of Botox: how else to understand
the staving-off of aging, and ultimately the fear of death, by
pursuing a medical treatment that promises to bring one in
closer proximity to death than ever before?
According to Science, US officials recently ranked C.
botulinum second only to anthrax as the microorganism
most likely to be used in bioterrorist activitiesan unnerving statistic, considering that unlike anthrax, there is no
known antidote even for common strains of the bacterium.4
Indeed, any country that can manufacture mass quantities
of C. Botulinum let alone synthesize new mutant strains
of itwill have a weapon of incalculable power. After all,
even the cosmetic use of Botox does not work to protect the
immune system, but instead works to erode the bodys natural defenses. In our enthusiasm to promote the ephemera
of youth over the grace of maturity, could we be producing,
however inadvertently, a passive army of terrorists clad not
in combat boots but in Prada heels?
1 Susan Lederer, Subjected to Science: Human Experimentation in America Before
the Second World War (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1995), p. 60.
2 Elizabeth Haiken, Modern Miracles: The Development of Cosmetic Prosthetics, in Katherine Ott et al, Artificial Parts, Practical Lives: Modern Histories of Prosthetics
(New York: NYU Press, 2002), pp. 171-198.
3 See Norbert Elias, The Civilizing Process, [1937], trans. Edmund Jephcott (New York:
Urizen Books, 1978).
4 Donald Kennedy, Beauty and the Beast, Science vol. 295 (March 1, 2002), p. 1601.
opposite: Franz Xaver Messerschmidts 18th-century character heads from an age before
Botox. Clockwise: the contrarian; the smiling old man; the mischievous man; the beaked man.
Weve all heard the clich about the gift that keeps on
giving. Those words never rang truer for me than they did
last Christmas, when a friend of mine gave me a small,
stocking-stuffer-ish gift: an old metal Scotch tape dispenser
from 1942, scavenged at a secondhand store, its tape roll
still intact but now hopelessly gummed up. At first glance
it appeared to be just another eye-pleasing tchotchke given
from one design geek to another. Upon closer inspection,
however, it has turned out to be a veritable treasure trove of
corporate and design history.
All artifacts are historical documents, of course, but the
Scotch tape dispenser offers an unusually broad window on
several historical fronts, in part because both the product
and its manufacturer, 3M , remain staples of the consumer
landscape today, making time-wrought changes easy to
gauge. Lets start with the product name itself, which is
printed on the dispensers side: Scotch Cellulose Tape. This
sounds vaguely off, because most of us would think of it
as cellophane tape, not cellulose. But cellophane is a cellulose derivative, and in 1942 it was a trademarked product
of DuPont, which would not allow 3M to use it as part of the
products name. That is also why the dispensers front panel
features a little logo seal that reads: Made of Cellophane
[Trademark], The DuPont Cellulose Film.
Although Scotch is a ubiquitous brand today, its familiar
plaid design motif is absent on the dispenser. In order to
understand why, we need to go back to the origin of the
brand name itself. Scotch was born in 1925, when a 3M
engineer named Richard Drew created a form of masking
tape that he envisioned being used by auto painters. But his
two-inch-wide tape had adhesive only at the outer edges,
not in the middle, much to the frustration of a local painter
who tried one of Drews prototype rolls. As the tape kept
falling off the surfaces to which it had been applied, the
exasperated painter told Drew, Take this tape back to those
Scotch bosses of yours and tell them to put more adhesive
on it! In this context, Scotch was an ethnic slur connoting stinginessan unlikely source for a brand name, but one
that served 3M well during the Depression, when Scotch
tape became a symbol of thrift and do-it-yourself mending.
This helps explain the brands rather austere blue-and-white
design visage during its first two decades of existence. The
more playful plaid motif appeared in 1945, as national optimism surged in the wake of WWII .
On the other side of the dispenser, in block letters, is the
manufacturers name: Minnesota Mining & Mfg. Co. Many
of us have forgottenindeed, if we ever knewthat these
words are the source of 3M s three ems. Indeed, 3M has
become so synonymous with high-tech polymer innovation
that a hardscrabble activity like mining seems hopelessly
old-economy by comparison. But in fact the firm was founded in 1902 by a group of Minnesota investors who planned
to mine a mineral deposit for grinding wheel abrasives.
The abbreviation 3M not quite an acronym, more like a
ligatureentered the corporate lexicon soon enough, but
old-timers in the Twin Cities region still refer to the company
as Mining (as in Oh sure, I used to work for Mining).
Those looking for present-day manifestations of the companys old name will be pleased to learn that 3M s stock-ticker
symbol is MMM , and that its Internet domain name is mmm.
com.
3M s nomenclatorial transition from unwieldy 15syllable name to two-character symbol was already under
way in the early 1940s, as is evident in the companys old
logo, which is printed on both sides of the tape dispenser.
The spelled-out name and 3M Co. both appear on
17
Angels must be very good to eat. I would imagine they are very
tender, between chicken and fish.
Peter Kubelka
maIN
that state policies must not interfere with evolutionary necessity began to gather influence. The postwar economic crisis was
theorized as a result of immigration and cultural decadence; the
lower races, it was reasoned, must no longer be coddled into
artificial survival if the German people were to thrive. Nature
itself decreed it.
Posthumous association with the methodical madness of the
Nazis has cast a retrospective pall over Haeckels undeniable
achievements in microbiological taxonomy; his grander evolutionary theories have been debunked. Nevertheless, Art Forms
in Nature continues to inspire and provoke the artists who, like
Ernst or Kandinsky before them, stumble upon its gorgeously
elaborated plates. Admittedly, the boundaries between art
and science have never been, and never can be, absolute. But
their progressive and mutual violation may well turn out to be
a defining obsession of 21st-century art, and there is certainly
a renewed concern, on the part of contemporary artists, with
the empirical mystique of the bio-lab with its statistical procedures and DNA /digital frontier on one hand, its viscosities and
oozings, its creepy-beautiful microcosmic landscapes on the
other. Given his pervasive influence and subsequent, near-complete eclipse, I wondered how many artists today were actually familiar with Haeckels work. And, I wondered if those who
have looked deeply into Haeckel and considered his example
in the development of their own art might discern, in his triumphally willed organic patterns, a graphic signature of the scary
ideology that selective cultural memory has lopped away. I conducted an informal poll, and sure enough: from Alexis Rockman
and Philip Taaffe, who have borrowed from Haeckels prints
directly; to Alex Ross, Karen Arm, and Tricia Keightley, whose
working premises have been informed and inflamed by his aestheticization of microscopic rendering; to Fred Tomaselli, Susan
Jennings, and Tom Nozkowski, whose engagements are mixed
with severe critique, Haeckels influence remains palpable in
the studios of New York artists.
For these visual thinkers, the discovery of Haeckels portfolios, whether received as art or science, or both, or neither,
has been revelatory. Once entranced, however, many also
register an ambivalent attraction/repulsion to Art Formss
romantically totalizing worldview, to the heavy, structuralizing hand that renders medusae as swimming chandeliers,
and echinidea as hovering spacecraft. Most of the artists with
whom I spoke had no idea of Haeckels proto-Fascist past.
Nevertheless, many seem to have intuited something of that
spirit from the material before them on the page.
In their overall patterning, these pages studded with
elaborately symmetrical groupings, usually floating over a
black void are as striking as are the specimens themselves. A
plate from Art Forms can minimize empty space to an almost
neurotic degree, laying out finicky, jewel-box arrangements
of like-to-like in vertical columns. This bilateral approach to
display threatens to overpower the subtleties of individual
organisms, whose symmetries tend to be radially complex, their
multiple digits or leaves twisting with restless animation so as
to bring maximal morphology into view. Sometimes the heavyhanded whole exceeds the sum of its delicate parts, sometimes
not. Indeed, if one sees Haeckels lust for unification as suspect leading to overdetermined (though fascinating)
art, and bad (though compelling) science then the very
24
characteristics which attract an artist to his images their integrated, harmonious, monistic design would be their most
dangerous and dishonest features.
Yet this sort of judgment may itself be overdetermined.
Haeckels florid conflation of aestheticism with empiricism
made him a lesser scientist in some ways leading him, on
occasion, to fudge his illustrations for the sake of a beautiful
argument. But it may also have made him a greater one, his
formal acuity and imagination leading to genuine morphological discoveries. And, if the miscegenation of disciplines made
him less of an artist operating covertly, as it were, never quite
seizing an artists prerogative or admitting to an artists seductionsin other ways, the rigors of the scientific idiom seem to
have freed him, allowing him to channel his enduring talent for
formal articulation into an almost superhuman penetration,
focus, and deftness of hand.
Fred Tomaselli, who discovered Art Forms relatively recently,
notes that Haeckels mirror-image arrangements propose, in
effect, their own meta-organism, a more-than-perfect symmetry which plays upon the idea of the beautiful as it is coded
deep within us. He also acknowledges a comparison between
Haeckels black backgrounds and his rationalized, proliferating
layouts, and some of his own methods for animating a pictorial
field. But at the same time, Tomaselli finds parts of Art Forms,
particularly those plates featuring creatures farther up the
evolutionary ladder, to be limited by a precisionist rigidity. In
the (relatively infrequent) groupings of frogs, lizards, bats, and
birds, Tomaselli diagnoses a telltale scientific override a
certain stiffness that can make cartoons of nature, especially
when compared to the more sensual and vivid work of John
James Audubon or Martin Johnson Heade. In Haeckels depictions of microbiota, on the other hand, you see the scientist at
work. Tomaselli discerns that within the realm of the exotically
small, where Haeckel could use a compass, French curve, and
ruler with impunity, he gets to sing.
As a connoisseur of 18th- and 19th-century scientific illustration, Philip Taaffe also admires Haeckels contribution as a
draughtsman, acknowledging that his drawings brought the
field to a new level of authority or life or animation The brilliance of the graphic execution is undeniable; you have to be
aware of these. You have to look and look. Taaffe stops short,
however, of touching; though his process often involves the
silkscreening of biological illustrations in gestural conjunctions, and despite the fact that a couple of Haeckels more sinuous images have found their way into his work, on the whole
he finds Art Forms too willful, too aestheticized to use. Susan
Jennings agrees. Like Haeckel, Jennings actually spends time
at the microscope, observing life forms that she cultures and
photographs. She is interested in Haeckels passion and
regards his drawings as beautiful, fascinating, but also uses
words such as uptight, oppressive, and claustrophobic.
Its something hes imposed because he has looked for it until
hes found it. Its not how nature is, necessarily.
Take, as an example, Plate 61 of Art Forms. It features a
radiolarian with the exoskeleton of a super-stellated Buckyball,
a geomancers polyhedral dream, awesomely complex yet
serenely Platonic. Though not a strictly scientific image, appearopposite: Plate 85 of Art Forms in Nature
9 Gould, This View of Life, Natural History, March 2000. Those phony embryos
were recently discovered persisting in textbooks, and creationists have blustered
about finding Haeckels skeleton in the closet of evolution ever since. See, for example, M. K. Richardson et al., Haeckel, Embryos, and Evolution, Science 280:983985 (1998). Haeckels dogma of recapitulation had lost its luster on
any terms by 1910 or so, when it became unfashionable in practice, following
the rise of experimental embryology, and untenable in theory, following scientific
change in a related field (Mendelian genetics). Stephen Jay Gould, Ontogeny and
Phylogeny (Cambridge: Belknap Press, 1977), p. 77.
10 Ernst Haeckel, The Evolution of Man: A Popular Exposition of the Principle
Points of Human Phylogeny and Ontogeny (New York: Appleton, 1897. English
edition vol. 1), p. xxxv.
Field Traces
Bill Jones
For the past five years, Ive been working with Dr. Merrill Garnett, a biochemist who has spent three decades researching
electrogenetics, the behavior of biological systems altered by
substances that increase the flow of electrical charge to DNA .
The basis of Dr. Garnetts approach involves the postulation that there is a corollary genetic code of pulsed electromagnetic current that enables communication at the cellular level
within a given organism. The coaxial liquid-crystal structure of
DNA transmits and receives energy and information by a process known as flexo-electricity, the equivalent of the piezoelectricity produced by crystal oscillators in computers. Dr. Garnett
theorizes that molecular nano-circuits, through which the corollary genetic mechanism transfers charge over great distances,
induces the multi-cellular state, as well as being key to organized growth and development. Every cell has both an inward
and outward current. The inward current builds up, and forms a
metastable equilibrium involving multiple reactions. When the
inward current reaches a certain level, outward current is forced
to occur. We see the visual evidence of this flux of energies in
experiments and resulting photographs that show changes in
form. In such images, DNA liquid crystals that normally look like
small flowers explode outward into starburst-like structures
when charged at the correct frequency, expressing the energy
field needed for cell maturation. During the life of an organism,
this energy flux continually streams through its DNA in a number of axes of vibration when the fluxes end, life ends.
Microscopy and microphotography of electro-active biological polymers charged with pulsed electro-magnetic fields
trace those fields as the liquid crystalline polymers dry on the
surface of a glass microscope slide. The microphotographs
presented here show field traces mapping the change in structure and symmetry of DNA and prothrombin the bio-polymer
responsible for blood clotting that one preliminary model suggests might function as a kind of vascular internet, facilitating communication with DNA under the influence of a pulsed
electro-magnetic field.
opposite: Microphotograph of prothrombin dried on a glass slide. The fern-like
fractal structure of this bio-polymer responsible for blood clotting demonstrates
its liquid crystalinity.
overleaf: Prothrombin is once again dried on a glass slide, but in this experiment
the linear structure of transmission cables is formed by coating the prothrombin
with the biological dialectric hyaluronic acid. The discovery of the electro-active
nature of prothrombin and other bio-polymers such as DNA suggests the possibility of a corallary genetic code and a vascular internet.
30
Professors of literature are in no position to mock the commercial aesthetic, which emphatically drives home its hegemony on a daily, nay hourly, basis. Perhaps the advocates of
canonical art need to learn, like Humbert Humbert, to appreciate the beauty of the banal. Kant claimed that the experience
of the sublime sprang from contemplation of the uncreated, of
the natural, which he opposed to the idolatrous adoration of the
Biblical works of mens hands. He was wrong. In the 21st century, the sublime is produced by the seamless merger of aesthetics with the market, of desire with prostitution, of artwork
with product. Im off to claim my free cup of Campbells.
On a rainy day in November, at the Beautiful Indonesia in Miniature Park, two nearly-naked men from Irian Jaya (the Indonesian half of the island of New Guinea) sit on the cold marble
floor in the main pavilion. Their dark faces are streaked with
red and yellow ochre. Crescent-shaped bones hang from their
noses. They sit with their long, banded arms wrapped around
their knees, smoking cigarettes and arguing. In front of them
a Balinese dancer stares wide eyed into the middle distance.
Without turning her head she looks from right to left to right.
Her forefingers flutter like hummingbirds, beating quadruple
time to the rhythm of the gamelan. These performances are one
of the few things in Indonesia that always take place on time,
whether anyone is there to see them or not. As long as they continue, culture is alive and well in Indonesia or at least that is
the official position.
Beautiful Indonesia in Miniature Park, or Taman Mini as it
is known in Indonesias national language, Bahasa, lies six kilometers outside of the capital city, Jakarta. On a weekday afternoon, particularly during the rainy season, the 250-acre park is
one of the best places in the Jakarta area for a leisurely stroll. On
a sunny weekend, however, the park can be thronged with visitors. Taman Mini draws an estimated 4.5 million visitors a year,
the vast majority of them Indonesian. Visitors come to Taman
Mini from all over the Indonesian archipelago, which stretches
across an expanse of ocean slightly larger than the continental
United States. The park features a lake that symbolizes this vast
expanse of ocean with islands that represent a few dozen of the
archipelagos 13,677. The islands in the lake are identically flat,
featureless, with low bushes representing mountain ranges,
and are best viewed from above in a creaky gondola that dangles from a sagging cable. From the gondola, one can also see
most of the pavilions that are the parks main attractions. There
is a pavilion for each of Indonesias 26 provinces, and one for
East Timor, which has just gained independence after a 23-year
struggle for independence.
The pavilions were built by traditional craftsmen brought in
from the provinces by the government. The Minangkabau pavilion, representing western Sumatra, has soaring, overlapping
roofs made of coconut-fiber thatch. The walls are intricately
carved and painted with symbols. Taman Minis guides teenage boys who freelance for tips and a chance to practice their
English are particularly proud of the fact that the pavilions
are authentic, or asli. They were built with all the rituals and
ceremonies necessary to insure that they are fully endowed as
spiritual, as well as material, entities. The pavilions are not replicas of existing buildings, rather were designed to be exemplary
structures larger and more intricate than any other traditional
buildings in Indonesia. Some, such as the Javanese pavilion
built in the style of the Kraton, are even considered sacred.
The pavilions, and the ceremonies and rituals that take place
within them, are meant to exemplify local tradition purified and
elevated to the national level.
Taman Mini is beginning to show signs of wear since its
benefactors, the Suhartos, were ousted in 1998. The concrete
paths have cracked and the paint is beginning to peel off the
concession stand. Although widely known among
36 Indonesians, Taman Mini generally receives just a few
I had painted walls only once in my life and was entirely unprepared to tackle the six rooms of the apartment I recently purchased. What began as an exciting project of renovation,
a fresh start, a new lease on life, ended as a costly disaster.
Tawny Day Lily looked like a drop of golden sunshine on
the paint chip, but on the four walls of my bedroom it was
a technicolor catastrophe, as was Dark Salmon, a cloying shade of pink, and Candied Yam, a sulfurous yellow that
transformed my room into the girlish lair of a cheerleader.
Tangerine Dream looked no better in my hallway, and the
Citrus Blast of my pantry, when seen in conjunction with the
Caramelized Orange of my kitchen, turned my front rooms
into a fruit stand.
No one had mentioned to me what many consider a rule
of thumb in choosing paint: find a color you like and then select
one at least two shades lighter or, better yet, choose another
color altogether, preferably white, or, better still, dont choose
and let someone more knowledgeable make the decision
for you. When magnified on the wall, a square inch of Pumpkin Patch or Iguana Green becomes several square yards of
fluorescent orange and radioactive malachite. The difference
between the chips one selects from the color preview palettes
on display in hardware stores and what one slaps onto the
plasterboard is so extreme that the inexperienced homeowner
chooses this unequivocally visual product blindly, sight unseen.
As tangibly physical as paint is, we are not actually buying a
bucket of latex and pigment but a far more fanciful literary product, an evocative name and a piece of paper no bigger than a
bookmark, a type of phantasmal paint that we apply not with
our brushes but with our imaginations, which rise to the bait
of such arresting, yet evanescent, two-word haikus as Bright
Laughter, Butterfly Bush, Fleeting Fawn, and Pale Parsnip.
Words, however, are a poor substitute for pigment. Strawberry
Mousse and Pineapple Delight may be great for the taste buds,
but they are hell on the eyes.
The vast selection of colors available in paint stores (I counted
over 50 shades of pink, among them Pink Popsicle, Marshmallow Bunny, and Tickled Pink) complicates the homemakers
task even further. Although the Inter-Society Color Council
recognizes only 267 colors and, moreover, gives them such
prosaic names as Reddish Orange, Very Light Green, and
Dark Red, Pittsburgh Paint currently offers 1,800colors and
Benjamin Moore no less than 2,000 a mere fraction of the
14,000 the latter has produced since its inception in 1883. Such
bewildering variety would challenge the taxonomical skills of
even the most ingenious of Linnaeuses who, as it stands, has
no tidy Latinate system to make order out of chaos but gives
way to despairing giddiness, lapsing into free association. The
muse of non-sequiturs inspires him to dream up such marginally descriptive epithets as Splish Splash, Pitter Patter, Golfers
Tan, Pollination, Salted Shrimp, Old Pickup Truck Blue, Rubber
Duckie, and Fuzzy Navel. The absence of established rules also
creates nonsensical redundancies and contradictions;
40 Surf Spray for Pratt and Lambert is pale yellow, while
A professor in the department of civil and environmental engineering at Princeton University, George Scherer is a materials
scientist and a leading researcher in the field of stone conservation. Educated at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology,
Scherer began his career in industry, working for companies
including Corning and DuPont, where he specialized in sol-gel
processing, a low-temperature method for producing ceramics
with consumer applications including scratch-resistant coatings
for eyeglasses. In the late 1980s, Scherer attended a conference
where George Wheeler, a conservator at New Yorks Metropolitan Museum of Art, discussed the use of various treatments,
including sol-gel technology, in the preservation of art objects
and architecture made from stone. After arriving at Princeton
in 1996, Scherer began a research program into the effects of
various environmental factors on stone artworks and monuments and potential ways to counteract them. Speaking on the
phone with Cabinet editor Jeffrey Kastner, Scherer discussed
the threats posed to stone by water, salt, wind, and pollution; the
utilization of predictive modeling in forecasting their impact on
various types of stone; and the potential application of such models in speculating about the long-term fate of objects ranging
from marble sculpture to the face of Mount Rushmore.
What are the main environmental threats to stone?
Water is basically the problem. The conservator at the
Cloisters says that 90% of art conservation is controlling the flow
of water, and thats right. Many times you can do a lot by just fixing the roof and the downspouts and that kind of thing. One main
mechanism of deterioration is freeze-thaw damage and another
is salt crystallization. You can get salt into materials from a variety
of directions sometimes its in the groundwater, sometimes you
can leach it out of the mortar, and sometimes it forms directly by
chemical reaction with air pollution. And once those salt crystals
start to grow, they can cause a lot of damage.
Are most treatments designed primarily to protect stone from
harmful environmental effects or to stop deterioration thats
already started? Are these two very different kinds of processes?
They are different kinds of processes, and we may try to do one
or the other or both. For instance, if you have an object thats
going to remain outdoors and its beginning to deteriorate, you
would like to stop whatevers doing the harm and restore some
of its strength. Sometimes you can stop the problem and sometimes you cant. Suppose I have a sculpture out in the middle of a
plaza theres nothing I can do to stop rain from hitting it, so its
going to get wet and it may not even be possible to prevent water
from getting into it. You could imagine putting a water-repellent
coating on the top surface, but if its standing out in the open,
theres a good chance that water will rise up from the ground by
capillary action, the way it rises into a sponge. And if you cant
stop water from getting into it you cant stop frost damage. So
maybe the only thing you can do is to try to restore some strength
to the stone and so youre just treating the symptom and
44 not the cause. There are other cases where you can treat
The image overleaf shows what geologists believe the Six Grandfathers will look like in the year 502,002 C.E. Located just south
of the geographic center of the continental United States in the
Paha Sapa, or Black Hills, this mountain has also been called
Slaughterhouse Peak, Cougar Mountain, and is now referred to
as Mount Rushmore. Much older than the Alps, Himalayas, and
Pyrenees, the Paha Sapa and Six Grandfathers were formed
when subterranean pressure raised the earths crust into a huge
elliptical dome 65 million years ago at the end of the Cretaceous
period. Today the 6,000-sq mile granite outcropping is visited
by two million tourists each year, who go there to gaze up at the
massive portraits of four American presidents Washington,
Jefferson, Roosevelt, and Lincoln carved into the Six Grandfathers between 1926 and 1941 by the sculptor Gutzon Borglum.
The first descendants of Europe to enter the Paha Sapa
were ponies progeny of the sixteen horses Hernn Cortz
brought with him from Spain to the New World. The Taos
Indians introduced them to the Kiowa in the 1600s. In the 18th
century, European westward expansion displaced the Sioux
from their native woodlands, who then, in turn, displaced the
Kiowa, acquiring their horses as well as the Paha Sapa.
Napoleon Bonaparte never saw the Louisiana Territory
that France had claimed under the doctrine of discovery. In
1803 US President Thomas Jefferson was prepared to pay the
French $10 million for New Orleans and the Florida peninsula,
but sensed that financially troubled France might be willing
to bargain. In the end Jefferson bought all the land from the
Mississippi River to the Rocky Mountains and from the Gulf
Coast to Canada for $15 million about three cents an acre
doubling the size of the US . One year later, while exploring and
mapping the vast territory, Lewis and Clark began bestowing
symbolic citizenship on Native Americans by wrapping newborn Indians in the American flag.
Deemed unfit for civilization, new maps labeled the Paha
Sapa the Great American Desert, and the US Government
designated it as a Permanent Indian Country. Americans
like the Astor family in New York quickly replaced French and
English fur trading companies doing business with indigenous
people across the Louisiana Territory, earning up to half a million
dollars annually. In the summer of 1845, US Army Colonel S. W.
Kearny arrived at the Laramie fork of the Platte River and gave the
Sioux a flag made up of a series of diagonal lines, nine stars and
two hands clasped in friendship on a blue background. This was,
he told the Indians, the flag of the Sioux Nation.
To protect trespassing whites and ease tensions between
warring Native nations, the United States negotiated the first
Treaty of Fort Laramie in 1851. Native signatories agreed to live
on designated lands, including the Paha Sapa, which the treaty
promised to them forever. When the South seceded from the
Union, two pieces of legislation previously blocked by southern
Congressmen were passed: the Homestead Act and the Pacific
Railroad Act. The first granted 160 acres of land to any European-American who claimed it. The second transferred 170 million acres of public land to the transcontinental railroad companies, who resold it to finance construction of their rail lines and
You should have a poster attached to this page. If you do not, there has been a
mistake of some sort. Please contact your nearest Cabinet Office.
Supreme Court ruled in favor of the Sioux Nation, acknowledging that the Black Hills had been appropriated illegally by the US
government when it broke the treaty of 1868. But the court
also declared that the passage of time made the return of Sioux
lands impossible and ordered a $120 million reparation payment. The Sioux refused the money and in 1982 the Committee for the Return of the Black Hills was formed, consisting of
one representative from each Sioux tribe. The committee got
the support of New Jersey Senator Bill Bradley (Dem.), who
sponsored their legislation in Congress. Representatives of
South Dakota led the fight against the bill to return 1.3 of the
7.5 million acres of land the Supreme Court said belonged to
the Sioux. The bill was defeated in 1987. In 1990 further legislation over the Black Hills claim was defeated on Capitol Hill.
South Dakota Senator Tom Daschle (Dem.) established the
Open Hills Association in his home state, an organization dedicated to fighting future attempts by the Sioux to regain the
Paha Sapa. Daschle also began using Mount Rushmore to raise
campaign money, charging guests $5,000 dollars each for a
helicopter ride to the top of Washingtons head an area designated off-limits by the National Park Service.
The 1980 reparation payment, being held in trust by the US
government, has now grown, with interest, to about $570 million. 80% of Sioux tribal members recently polled affirmed that
the Black Hills are not for sale and said they support drafting
another bill to ask Congress for the return of the Paha Sapa to
the Sioux Nation.
Bibliography
Lincoln Borglum, Mount Rushmore (Las Vegas: KC Publications, 1977).
James Calhoun, With Custer in 74: James Calhouns Diary of the Black Hills Expedition, ed.
Lawrence A. Frost (Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1979).
Ward Churchill, From a Native Son: Selected Essays in Indigenism, 1985-1995 (Boston:
South End Press, 1996).
Robert J. Dean, Living Granite: the Story of Borglum and the Mount Rushmore Memorial
(New York: Viking Press, 1949).
Gilbert Fite, Mount Rushmore (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1952).
Tim Giago, Crazy Horse Mountain and Mt. Rushmore Disgrace Black Hills, Indian Country
Today, 18 May 1998, vol. 17, no. 46.
Matthew Glass, Alexanders All: Symbols of Conquest and Resistance at Mount Rushmore, in David Chidester and Edward T. Linenthal, eds., American Sacred Space (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1995).
Jesse Larner, Icon of Patriotism: Human Beings Are Lost Without a Collective Memory,
Indian Country Today, 11 May 1998, vol. 17, no. 45.
Edward Lazarus, Black Hills/White Justice: The Sioux Nation Versus the United States,
1775 to the Present (New York: Harper Collins, 1991).
Avis Little Eagle, Dont Sell the Black Hills, Indian Country Today, 29 June 1998, vol. 17,
no. 52.
Avis Little Eagle, Black Hills Land Claim Reaches Half a Billion: Mums the Word on Sioux
Claim, Indian Country Today, 4 May 1998, vol. 17, no. 44.
Howard Shaff & Audrey Karl Shaff, Six Wars at a Time: The Life and Times of Gutzon
Borglum, Sculptor of Mount Rushmore (Freeman, South Dakota: Pine Hill Press, 1985).
Judith Nies, Native American History (New York: Ballantine, 1996).
Rex Alan Smith, The Carving of Mount Rushmore (New York: Abbeville Press, 1985).
June Zeitner, Borglums Unfinished Dream (Aberdeen: North Plains Press, 1976).
years before the establishment of the NPS , this heavily circulated quote establishes the preeminence of interpretation as a
tool of translation and illumination. Muir stands in not as a park
visitor, but as Brockmans original interpreter. Within this construction, the interpreter is an expert visitor, someone who has
had the time and the training to see harder, farther, and deeper,
and to understand what the average person cannot. Even as late
as 1976, NPS Director Gary Everhardt promoted a similar definition of interpretation as translation: ...millions of park visitors
over the years have needed help to translate that which is perceived into that which relates personally to them as individuals
and to bring into focus the truths that lie beyond what the eye
sees. The guiding hand is the park interpreter.5 Interpretation
acts not as an admission of the subjective construction of historical narrative but as a tool of translation, which, if done well,
is barely noticed, perceived merely as a conduit of information.
From its inception, interpretation has played an additional
role in the promotion of individual parks and the park system
as a whole. Early NPS administrators generally believed that
the more the public understood about the natural and historical wonders they encountered, the more frequently they
would return to the site. The foundational role of the park visitor is clearly established in the early relationship of educational
promotion to the promotion of park tourism. The engagement
of the visitor was seen as essential to the perpetuation of the
NPS and its fulfillment of its national objective: preservation.
As Freeman Tilden points out in his 1957 examination of interpretation in the NPS , Through interpretation, understanding;
through understanding, appreciation; through appreciation,
protection.6 The NPS s current working definition of interpretation reiterates the centrality of the visitor: Interpretation is
a communication tool which facilitates a connection between
the interests of the visitors and the meanings of the park.7
In the context of the historic sites, interpretation becomes even
more necessary and central to the visitors experience. At many
NPS National Historic sites, a visitor is not allowed to view the
site except on a guided or interpreted tour. Often these narratives have all the markings of a complicated understanding of
historical narrative. Visitors to the Edgar Allan Poe National
Historic Site are actually given a tour of a completely empty
house. As there is no documentation of what the Philadelphia
home looked like when Poe, his wife, Virgina, and her mother,
Maria Clemm, inhabited it, the NPS cleared away the houses
decorative elements including furniture, wallpaper, moldings,
etc., when it acquired the house in 1978. The tour is composed
of a series of acknowledged speculations of what might have
been there, as well as a history of the sites occupancy and interpretation prior to the NPS s ownership. Similarly, on the tour of
Eleanor Roosevelts home, the interpreter spoke in great detail
about the process of re-constructing the house: She identified
which pieces of furniture were real and which were replicas,
she explained how the rooms were reconstructed from detailed
photographs taken at Eleanors death. These acknowledgements do not erase the lingering presence of an idea of objective historical truth. The assumption, sometimes iterated, sometimes not, is that if they learn how Poe and his wife furnished
their home, if they acquire the original Eleanor Roos52 evelt furniture, then these sites can become historically
accurate. Similarly, although the NPS officially encourages multiple meanings of a site, when you go to several tours of Eleanor
Roosevelts house, you realize that the interpretations function
much like an oral history; they are re-tellings of the same story
using slightly different language and slightly different emphasis,
but maintaining the wholeness of the narrative, projecting the
assertion that no matter who tells the story, the conclusions are
the same. Interpretation, in this context, effectively validates
the mimetic, objectivist history that each site is grounded upon,
obscuring the fact that the interpretation is an interpretation of
an interpretation.
Like the NPS itself, individual interpreters stand in a precarious position: charged with the monumental task of exciting
people to stewardship while negotiating the front lines of such
public interaction at sites imbued with emotional and symbolic
significance. In a recent interview, Corky Mayo, the current
Chief of Interpretation of the NPS , said: There are a lot of hard
decisions that are made when you have 20 minutes to explore
a topic. While the NPS policy allows for their interpreters to
broadly expand the narrative of the site, he acknowledged that
most interpreters take a safer road than the agency itself. This
deferral is probably as individual as the interpreter him/herself. On my second tour of Eleanor Roosevelts home, someone
asked if Roosevelt was a lesbian. In an improvised defense, the
clearly uncomfortable interpreter answered, We dont know.
We werent there. Although the response directly contradicts the objective of historical preservation, her denial was, of
course, not surprising. Referring back to the NPS definition of
interpretation: a communication tool which facilitates a connection between the interests of the visitors and the meanings
of the park, it might be that this denial failed. But it is, perhaps,
exactly in such a failure that interpretation, as a revelation of the
subjective construction of historical narrative, succeeds. And
in the vast national park system with its 4,000 interpreters, this
insistent failure of interpretation its inability to function either
as a wholly effective tool of education or propaganda is what
makes a visit so interesting.
1 Barry Mackintosh, The National Park Service (New York: Chelsea House Publishers,
1988), p. 42.
2 Ibid, p. 43.
3 Barry Mackintosh, The National Parks: Shaping the System (Washington, D.C.: Division of
Publications and the Employees Development Division, National Park Service, 1991), p. 10.
4 C. Frank Brockman, Park Naturalists and the Evolution of National Park Service
Interpretation Through World War II in The Journal of Forest History (vol. 22, No. 1,
January 1978), p. 26.
5 Gary Everhardt Foreword to the Third Edition in Freeman Tilden, Interpreting Our
Heritage (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1977), p. xi.
6 Freeman Tilden, op. cit., p. 38. The altruism of the NPSs protective mandate is a
frequently asserted myth, which is, of course, more complicated then is narrated. The NPS
is, after all, an agency of the government. As FDR writes in a letter to Congress supporting
the passage of the Historic Sites Act of 1935, The preservation of historic sites for the public benefit, together with their proper interpretation, tends to enhance the respect and love
of the citizen for the institutions of his country, as well as strengthen his resolution to defend
unselfishly the hallowed traditions and high ideals of America.
7 Interview with Corky Mayo, NPS Chief of Interpretation, 8 January 2002.
In his 1967 address The Eco-Logic of Muzak, for Muzaks Scientific Board of Advisers, Dr. James Keenan, an industrial psychologist from Stanford University, spoke of Muzak as being
synomorphic with the modern world and interrelated with all
matters of time and place: Muzak helps human communities
because it is a nonverbal symbolism for the common stuff of
everyday living in the global village.1 Keenan characterizes
Muzak not merely as background music, but as a language
that builds utopias through sweet and soothing harmonies.
Better known as a sonic backdrop (rather than an intrusion) for everyday activities within public spaces, Muzak creates a mellow-yellow environment that brightens up ones days,
recharges ones energies, alleviates stress, and calms frayed
nerves.2 Indeed on 29 July 1945, after a B-24 bomber crashed
into the Empire State Buildings 79th floor, the canned music
became known as an effective tranquillizer that pacified anxious people stuck in the glass-encased observatory nine floors
above. Today Muzak functions, as Professor Gary Gumpert aptly
puts it in a 1990 documentary on background music, as just a
kind of amniotic fluid that surrounds us; and it never startles us,
it is never too loud, it is never too silent; its always there.3 For
the socially inept, Muzak works as a prophylaxis to fill in awkward pauses during a conversation and, at its most functional,
it serves to mask dissonant noises from street construction or
building renovations. For most people, however, Muzak is synonymous with harmless background music that samples tunes
from the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, or it is seen as just another
vehicle for broadcasting songs already in circulation. This latter
development goes back to 1984, when Muzak began offering
foreground music or, in laymans terms, programs of current
hits by original artists.
On the surface, Muzak as an artfully contrived regimen
of unobtrusive harmonies and pitches; metronomic repetition; melodic segments that overlap into a tonal wash seems
annoying at worst.4 Yet Muzak produces a place where bodies
listen and circulate within commodified walls through metaphorical acoustic wallpaper. It operates as anesthetic or what
Joseph Lanza calls an audioanalgesia: a process that dulls
the ability to listen critically.5 In other words, Muzak produces
a programmed environment that enables one to relax in order
to work more efficiently, and to browse more intently in order to
consume. Muzak sonically rambles with a purpose.
In fact, Muzak is scientific to its very core. Masterminds
like Frederick Winslow Taylor, author of Principles of Scientific Management (1911) and not Ludwig van Beethoven are
Muzaks central influences. The Taylor system determined,
through time and motion studies, the most efficient methods
by which to organize modern industrial work. The correlation between music and the psychological and physiological
responses it evoked was of great interest to industrialists, managers, and engineers. Before Muzaks official naming in 1922 by
Brigadier General George Squier, Thomas Edison had already
conducted phonographic mood tests in factories in 1915 to
determine the extent to which music masked disruptive noise
and raised morale. But it was Squiers refined implementation
spheres within the public sphere. Schafers purposely cacophonous CDs provoke an intense feeling of being out of place and
out of sorts.
Schafers Times Ten Resequenced with Variable Gap
(X10R.2) presents a medley of well-known tunes by Muzak
composers and arrangers: Les Baxter, Bert Kaempfert, Andre
Kostelanetz, Paul Mauriat, and Hugo Winterhalter.15 By studying the physiological and psychological effects and applications of Muzak, Schafers CD turns Muzak inside out, revealing
its abject intentions and effects. In his selection of Muzaks
greatest hits based on their varying instrumentation and
moods, Schafers CD medley begins with a chorus of haunting
voices followed by a variation of overlapping melodies that
become excessive, disorienting, almost nauseating. At different moments within the duration of its play (58.41 minutes to
be exact), one can discern fleeting instances of recognizable
TV and film tunes, from The Godfather theme to Frances Lais
score for A Man and a Woman. Catchy, saccharine tunes (better known as champagne music) crescendo into an orchestral ensemble of violins, horns, and harps with brief breaks
of applause that explode the monaural sound of Muzak. In
contrast to the sense of distended time that Muzak offers, the
noise in Schafers CD is obtrusive and chaotic, condensing
time to produce a claustrophobic space. Visually, I imagine the
effect would resemble something like the shattering of a vase
with shards of glass exploding everywhere or a stroboscopic
flickering of pea-green, burnt-sienna, and pungent-yellow
colors. In other words, listening to x10R.2 is far from a pleasant experience, but it is a fascinating one.
In the spirit of the Situationists and John Cage, Schafers
tactics undermine the soothing tunes of Muzak. At the same
time, Schafer, an astute operator himself, knows both how
to manipulate and recede into the background. Listening
to Schafers CD will not train one to be like Mucho Mass, the
character in Thomas Pynchons The Crying of Lot 49 who discerns Muzaks string compositions and rhythmic ebb and flow.
Rather, in contrast to the low level of attention that Muzak
thrives on, Schafers CD forces one to pay attention in
57
a kind of drunken stupor. The experience of listening
Gregory Whitehead
When I read the report in the Telegraph that a number of rare
illuminated manuscripts, including the splendid Winchester
Bible, had disappeared without a trace from the famed Spence
Collection of the British Library, I thought immediately of my old
acquaintances, Sybil Townsend and Rachel Thompson, who
belong to a special breed of bibliophile, their desire for possession of unique and precious texts taken to an extreme. Bluntly
put: They eat books.
I had first contacted Townsend and Thompson in 1985,
while in the process of researching a radio essay, Dead Letters. They agreed to speak to me on strict condition that I
would do nothing with the taped material. I recall their envious glance when I told them about my interview with Dr. Mary
Dilthey, the distinguished curator in charge of the Spence,
comprised mostly of illuminated manuscripts, many theological in nature, chance survivors of the fires and invasions that
had ravaged the sanctuaries of their fabricators. An elderly
artisan of the Old School, Dr. Dilthey had been engaged in
a long, demoralizing struggle against the collections infestation by various species of beetles: Anobium domesticum,
A. eruditus, A. Paniceum, A. pertinax, A. punctatum, and A.
striatum; Acarus cheyletus and A. eruditus; Dermestes lardarius; Aecophora pseudospretella; Sitodrepa paniceum; Attagenus pellio; Lepisma saccharina; Ptinus fur; Antherenus varius;
Lyctus brunneus; Catorama mexicana; and Rhizopertha dominica, indifferent to anything but fuel and reproduction.
I still carry the handmade bookmark she gave me as a
keepsake, inscribed with an aphorism by Michel Eyquem de
Montaigne: Man cannot make a worm, yet he will make gods
by the dozen.
I had not communicated with Townsend and Thompson
who shun e-mail and use only public telephones since 1993
or so, and had no idea how to find them. Fortunately, we share
a common friend in London, who encouraged me to fly over
immediately. He knew how to contact them, and would arrange
a meeting. At Kennedy, security was still tight in the wake of
the errant shoe bomber, and the late flight was half empty. I
used the two vacant seats in my row to sort through the various
letters and copious notes in my bibliovoria file, paying particularly close attention to the passages I had copied from Wade
O. Crumpstons Hungry for God, the definitive account of an
obscure medieval heretical sect named the Khunrathians, after
their leader, Johannes Khunrath, whose beliefs centered around
the ritualized practice of eating the Word:
The records left by those who would, in the end, become
his tormentors, indicate that Khunrath was a master of impersonation, fluent in the tightly regulated idioms of the varied
monastic orders. In the Khunrathian universe, the ability to
inhabit the face and voice of monks across multiple communities clearly played a critical role in restoring unity to the Word
of God. Migration into the collective spirit of the Word, accomplished by becoming one with a sociologically closed community, subsequently projected into the direct textual intermingling Khunrath secured through the selective ingestion of
the disciplines most sacred texts. Such signature tra62 versal of voice and text became even more dramatic
cross, paid a fortune, black market, mostly, bribes to the Vatican, you name it, very delicate business. By the end, he must
have had at least ten inches of Holy wood. So what does he do?
I had a fairly good idea, but gestured for him to continue. He
pops open a bottle of 1962 Lafite one night, and proceeds to
eat his whole collection at one sitting. He paused for a moment
to return the Wild Turkey and cups to the cabinet, then said
For the next couple of days, he struts around, high on the Holy
Ghost, spouting all kinds of Pentecostal gobbledygook, in fact,
hes so high on the Almighty, he fails to notice hes leaking
major blood from the other end. The wood chips must have torn
his intestines to shreds, maybe they carried some kind of bug,
all I know is, by the end of the week, the mans half dead.
Sculley placed his box full of facial hair back under the
table, took out a clean handkerchief from the pocket of his
smock, mopped up a few dribbles of bourbon, then dabbed at
a smear of nameless gunk on the arm of his chair. When he
wakes up in the hospital post-op, he discovers hes wearing a
bag, and Im not talking about a Gucci money belt. Finds out
the cross went up in smoke, medical refuse, incinerated with
the rest of the op-slop. Next day, he goes into a coma and never
comes back.
The dealer continued to jab at the gummy glob, that
released a sour aroma from the effort. Sooner or later, Old
Wormy needs to be fed, and when it comes to theology, Old
Wormy is not a fussy eater. Inferring from my stupor that I
was unlikely to say anything for the rest of the evening, Sculley
picked up the Talib purse, tossed it into my lap, turned off the
lights in the main shop, and left me alone in his eerie storehouse
of memories and dreams.
Note: Wade Crumstons Hungry for God (Sparrows Press, 1981) is lamentably out of print.
The editors of Cabinet are studying the feasability of an offprint republication of extended
excerpts. Whiteheads interview with Walter Sculley was published in the first issue of
Cabinet, and information about his movie, The Bone Trade, directed by John Dryden, is
available at www.bonetrade.com. Dead Letters is available as a staalplaat CD, or by contacting Gregory Whitehead directly: gregor@berkshire.net.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
66
14.
15.
8.
16.
9.
17.
10.
18.
11.
19.
12.
20.
13.
21.
failure
he shepherds and the kings arrived at the stable just after Jesus had been born. He was sitting in Marys lap, and she was dressed in blue.
Joseph and the ox and ass that lived in the stable
were staring at the child in adoration. The newborn child had a powerful and precocious influence over all who set eyes on him. The shepherds
and kings prostrated themselves before him, and
laid their gifts at his feet. The shepherds brought
lambs as gifts. Lambs are very important symbols
in the Bible. Soon the glad tidings of great joy
spread, and crowds of people came to the stable in
Bethlehem to worship Jesus. Cherubim and
seraphim (small childlike angels) hovered above
the stable.
BLACK BOX
Tom Vanderbilt
In 1997, a Garuda Airlines Airbus 300-B4 crashed into a highland
jungle slope near Medan, North Sumatra, killing 224 people. As
Indonesian police and military teams, aided by aviation investigators from other countries, combed through the dense Sumatran canopy for the missing flight data recorder, it was reported
that clairvoyants from a neighboring village had been called in
to assist on the search.
The story seems drawn from the portfolio of J. G. Ballard:
The sophisticated electronic device submerged in the primeval
Indonesian murk, the search teams straining for the ping of the
homing beacon as local seers delved into their own visions to
locate the signal, Western rationalism run headlong into Eastern mysticism, nature already crawling over and reclaiming the
aluminum-and-plastic debris field of this flight into terrain.
And yet the opposition between the black box recorder
or, more correctly, flight data recorder (FDR) , and its accompanying instrument, the cockpit voice recorder (CVR) and the
Sumatran clairvoyants may be more of form than function, for
indeed there is a kind of mystical quality to the black box, this
device that, rather than looking ahead in a clairvoyant sense,
is able to look back on the past, presenting through its myriad
recorded variables a lineage of how history was, and how it
might have been. If the mystics suggest Tiresias, the blind
prophet of Greek mythology able to see forward, then the black
box is akin to the character Er, that figure introduced in Platos
Republic who is able to report from beyond the dead.
And so to a culture already fecund with survivor stories whether survivors of political brutality, broken homes, or
the manufactured reality contests of Hollywood is added the
ultimate sole survivor: this humble black box, which in fact is
usually painted Day-Glo orange for obvious reasons of visual
reconnaissance (but is often charred black upon retrieval).
Air disasters, despite their relative rarity (compared to deaths
caused by smoking, industrial accidents, or car crashes), have
become a collective vessel for anxiety, a testing of our larger
faith in the promise that technology, so quickly made obsolete, may someday make death itself obsolete. Thus after
each crash we look eagerly, and more than a bit accusatorily,
toward another bit of technology, the black box, whose survival
reaffirms our faith in technology even as its message may
ultimately undermine it although, admittedly, many crashes
are attributed to human error.
While true black box data is in fact incomprehensible to
most of us, the transcripts of the CVR have entered the lexicon,
collected in Malcolm McPhersons The Black Box: All-New
Cockpit Voice Recorder Accounts of In-Flight Accidents,
deployed in the off-Broadway play Charlie Victor Romeo, and
even used as the narrative inspiration for the hypertext work
of Alistair Gentry (100 Black Boxes). They are predictably chilling exchanges, with an oft-recurring theme being the lack of
cognizance by pilots as to what is actually taking place they
previous page: Emma Kay, The Bible from Memory, 1997 (detail). This image
previously appeared in Cabinet issue 5 but suffered from numerous typographi-
70
cal errors introduced at the printer. We apologize to Emma Kay, whose work we
admire greatly.
Failure in Successful Design), failure is one of the most essential factors in the best design: Only by what has not worked
do we learn to create what does work. Rarely is a product
ever final. Its form merely represents a transient compromise
between human need and technological ability, and the best
designers are those able to extrapolate failure out of a seemingly successful status quo. And thus it should come as no
surprise that, at the dawn of the jet age in the early 1950s,
the de Havilland companys Comet, the worlds first plane
powered by jet propulsion rather than propellers, suffered a
number of well-publicized crashes. There were stress tests,
there were wind tunnels, there was test data but once a
plane had crashed, it was not easy to discern why from the
wreckage alone (in those cases where the wreckage was
retrievable). With the physical body damaged beyond recognition and without witnesses present, who was to account
for the cause of death? The airplane needed a mechanism for
providing an autoautopsy.
Enter David Warren, a researcher at Australias Aeronautical Research Laboratories. An electronics buff whose father
had, ironically, died in one of Australias seminal airline disasters (the 1934 crash of the Miss Hobart), Warren was working
on the investigation of the first Comet crash in 1953 when he
proposed that cockpits be outfitted with a device that could
record up to four hours of speech as well as a variety of inputs
from flight instruments. In 1954, he circulated a paper, A
Device for Assisting Investigation into Aircraft Accidents, but
it was not until he fashioned a working prototype called the
ARL Flight Memory Unit that it began to receive some interest. Many doubted the necessity or practicality of the device,
however. The pilots union even hinted at sinister motives: the
device would be a spy flying alongside.... No plane would take
off in Australia with Big Brother listening. As Australia then
boasted the worlds best airline safety record, it was slow to
take on the project, which gained faster ground in England.
In 1958, the British firm of S. Duvall & Son released its Red
Egg recorder, which quickly became a market leader globally.
After a series of airline accidents in the 1960s, it was Australia,
strangely enough, that then became the first country to require
mandatory flight data and cockpit voice recorders.
Today the FDR market is dominated by companies like L- 3
Communications, which generates about $2 billion a year in
revenue selling FDR s. We are the Sears Roebuck [of the FDR
industry], with a catalog of all kinds of these high-tech boxes,
its CEO has said. Given that the ultimate role of the black box
is to improve the design of airplanes, there have been any
number of improvements to the black box itself, which has
seen its recording mechanism go from engraving on a wire to
loopable magnetic tapes to solid-state flash memory. While
the first recorders measured only a handful of instrument readings, the latest generation of recorders have capacities for measuring some 700 readings. Todays recorders feature remote
sensing beacons that are activated when submerged in water,
and one company has even developed what it calls DFIRS , or
Deployable Flight Incident Recorder Set, which can be ejected
from a plummeting plane and safely parachuted to Earth. Early
on, the various black boxes were kept in the cockpit, but contemporary models are stored in the rear, often somewhere
black box. The lesson, for either man or machine, is clear: None
of us outlive our data.
Crash Covers
Jeffrey Kastner
On an early August day in 1937, a plane trying to make a
landing in what was then known as the Panama Canal Zone
hit heavy weather and crashed in the waters of the Mosquito Gulf. Among the items on board later fished out of the
southern Caribbean was some 43 pounds of mail, which was
taken to a bakery in the nearby coastal town of Cristobal
to dry out and then returned to the local post office. Before
sending it off again to its intended recipients, local postal
authorities stamped each item with a simple four-line
message explaining its detour: Recovered from / Plane N.C.
15065 / Aug. 3, 1937 / Cristobal, C.Z.
Since the first fixed-wing aircraft on an official mailcarrying flight successfully traveled the five miles between
Allahabad and Naini Junction in India on 18 February 1911,
millions of airplanes have safely and reliably carried billions
of items around the globe via airmail. However, for the collector of wreck mail (a branch of philately dealing in memorabilia from various misadventures that have interrupted
scheduled mail service, whether by land, by sea or, in this
case, by air) this rule is less interesting than the rare exceptions to it. Kendall Sanford, a Geneva-based philatelist,
has amassed a large number of what are commonly referred
to as airmail crash covers envelopes that bear damage, incidental markings, or official cachets resulting from or related to
air accidents specifically those involving either Pan American or Imperial Airways, Britains first overseas international
carrier. The examples on the following pages including a
letter from an office of the Ford Motor Company in Buenos
Aires to another in Edgewater, New Jersey, recovered from the
Cristobal disaster come from his collection.
Few activities in our everyday life represent as much of a
leap of faith as the act of putting something in the mail. We readily consign materials constituting the full range of our relationships and obligations from birthday cards to bill payments
to the maw of a mechanism we only vaguely understand; we
buy into, without reservation, the idea that everything will
turn out fine in the end. And it is remarkable how often it does.
Important pieces of correspondence almost always get where
theyre going; private information exchanged between people
typically stays private; items of value consistently reach their
destinations unmolested. No doubt it is this sense of inevitability about the mail, the generally high degree of assurance that
usually accompanies its use as well as our changing relationship to it in an increasingly digital age that makes its rare failures all the more poignant. And it is this intersection between
the rare and the poignant that makes such philatelic artifacts,
indeed all such souvenirs, so prized.
As Susan Stewart, the author of On Longing, has
observed, the souvenir distinguishes experiences. We do not
need or desire souvenirs of events that are repeatable, she
writes. Rather we need and desire souvenirs of events that are
reportable, events whose materiality has escaped us, events
that thereby exist only through the invention of narrative. Our
experience of mail tends to be point-to-point: we know
73
origin and terminus, but what lies between remains a
Shades of Tarzan!:
Ford on the Amazon
Elizabeth Esch
English and have their homes and wives inspected before they
could qualify for the five-dollar-a-day wage. Social control is a
necessary part of making people perform alienating wage labor.
But in degree, Fordlandia was different. The men Ford sought
to recruit as wage workers lived in the region of Brazil that had
once provided more than 90% of the worlds rubber. They came
from long traditions of skill, and while they worked in hierarchical networks that accessed the global economy, their work
was autonomous and it built communities. Indeed, the poverty
the company encountered when it arrived in the region was
the result not of the nature of rubber tapping, but of the global
economy from which the Brazilian rubber tappers had been
eliminated. Using seeds smuggled out of Brazil and nurtured in
Kew Gardens, British companies had launched large-scale rubber plantations with which indigenous rubber tapping methods
could not compete.
Mirroring the Brazilian eugenics movements obsession
with disease and sanitation, the American managers at Fordlandia lived in a constant state of fear of the tropics, which
included its people and its ecology. Hospital visits and inoculations were compulsory, as was the wearing of shoes (to guard
against hookworm). Doctors played an increasingly significant
role in the management of workers on the plantation;
77
the hospital was the place where sick workers were
distinguished from the just lazy ones: the latter were fired.
Fords extravagant commitment to its own ideas of how
work should be organized and workers managed, perfected
in its auto factories in Detroit, made little sense in Brazil. Yet
the less those ideas seemed to work, the more tenaciously
and absurdlythe company seemed to cling to them. In an
exchange of letters with steam whistle manufacturers, a manager expressed concern that the company had not yet found a
whistle that could withstand a tropical climate, or that was loud
enough for workers on all sides of the plantation to hear it. Of
course, the company had scheduled the whistles at 5:30, 6:00,
6:30, 7:00, 11:00, 11:30 am; noon; 3:30, 4:00, 4:30, 5:00, and 5:30
pm. But of what use is all this precision if no one can hear the
whistle? And what good is punching time cards if time is not uniformly understood? As one manager put it, Owing to the fact
that our daily labor is punching time cards, it is imperative that
time signals be controlled. Otherwise the hours of operation are
not uniform throughout the plantation. Indeed, Ford management thought electric service would be advisable throughout
the plantation in order to accommodate time clocks and bells
similar to those in the factory.
A strike in December 1930 revealed the depth of disgust
the workers felt toward the highly controlled living arrangements on the plantation. The strike began when workers in
the cafeteria were told they would have to wait in line for their
food, rather than have it served at their tables. When they
confronted managers about the new policy, the workers were
told that the Company now and then puts new rules into effect
but it was always for the betterment of the workers. Not satisfied with the betterment program, workers immediately
banded together as the managers fled by boat. Targets of
destruction during the strike included the cafeteria, all the time
clocks, the punch card racks, and all the trucks.
The Ford workers presented a list of demands to management which included the dismissal of two managers who were
considered particularly vicious; access to the docks and river
without passes; the right to visit neighboring villages; the elimination of the rule that prohibited the consumption of alcohol;
the end of the requirement to eat in the company cafeteria;
and the cessation of arbitrary firing. In response, the company
called in the Brazilian military, which arrested more than 30
ringleaders. Following the strike, Ford required its workers to
be photographed when they were hired, and agreed to a police
proposal to create passports for all workers, which contained
their fingerprints and previous police records.
In 1934, after clearing 8,000 acres of rainforest, Ford admitted defeat at Fordlandia. Marking a radical shift in strategy, the
company abandoned virtually the entire plantation, save what
it would use for research purposes, and bought over 700,000
acres of land 80 miles away. The new plantation, named
Belterra, promised better growing conditions and easier
access. The move to Belterra coincided with another shift in
policy, as management decided to allow some men to bring
their families to live on the plantation and build housing for
them. Fantastic fears that the plantation would be overrun by
poor women and their children who would require care but
could not work had guided past policy. But as fewer and fewer
men were willing to uproot themselves from their communities
and families, and more and more single men left after working on the plantation for a short period of time, the company
conceded. Having succeeded in creating neither a loyal nor
a disciplined workforce, Ford set its sights on the workers of
the future: children.
In a letter to Detroit, a manager at Belterra described the
youngsters who are growing up on the plantations [as] our
best prospects for future employees. Photos of President
Vargass visit to the plantation show smiling children waving
Brazilian flags which bear the slogan Order and Progress.
One photo in a Ford promotional brochure bears the caption:
Shades of Tarzan! Youd never guess these bright, happy
healthy school children lived in a jungle city that didnt even
exist a few years ago!
If Fordlandia became the site for experimentation with
heveas brasilis, Belterra became the site for experimentation
with people. Virtually every activity on the plantation carried the potential for Fordist ideas about nationalism, thrift,
science, and progress to be shaped into behavior-modifying
campaigns. With the introduction of family living at Belterra
came the imposition of a multitude of requirements. School
was compulsory for adults The night shift is reserved for
adults and the one who refuses, goodbye and for
78
children. Required uniforms were provided by the
79
B. Glover (1838-1911) for help. Until then, the coalmining method on Takashima had been primitive: miners
simply chipped away at exposed surfaces with picks and then
moved on to other sites when the coal ran out or the holes
became too deep to dig safely. But Glover imported modern
mining equipment from Britain and hired British mining engineers to drill a vertical-shaft mine on the island. In April 1869,
the drillers struck a coal bed some 45 meters underground, and
Japans first modern coal mine started production.
The enormous success of the Takashima coal mine filled
Nagasaki coffers with foreign currency and sparked a rush to
develop mines on nearby islands including the until-then
useless heap of rock called Hashima.
Hashima Coal Mine is Born
But the optimism did not last long. Hashimas fortunes started
on a downhill slide in the late 1960s when Japans economy
soared and petroleum replaced coal as the pillar of national
energy policies. Coal mines across the country began to close.
Mitsubishi slashed the work force at Hashima step by step,
retraining workers and sending them off to other branches of its
sprawling and booming industrial network. The coup de grce
came on 15 January 1974, when the company held a ceremony
in the island gymnasium and officially announced the closing
of the mine.
The subsequent exodus proceeded with amazing speed.
The last resident stepped onto the ship for Nagasaki on 20
April 1974, holding an umbrella up to a light rain and glancing
back woefully toward the empty apartment blocks.
The End Result of Development
84
futures markets and controlling a quarter of the worlds supply of tin, a ploy which brought him to financial ruin in 1929. He
lived on as an eccentric hermit, publishing prescient warnings
of Nazism and proposing one of the first media watchdogs.
After the war, his freelance genius helped propel the creation of
the National Health Service.3
During the war, he appeared at the office of the Chief of
Combined Operations with a simple recommendation for
his hiring. You need me on your staff, the shabbily dressed
man explained to Lord Mountbatten, because Im a man who
thinks. What Pyke was thinking about just then was building
ships out of ice.
Pyke envisioned ships as vast and solid as icebergs. You
could make the sides of your boat tens of feet thick, hundreds
if you felt like it, and bullets or torpedoes would bounce away
or knock off pathetically ineffectual chunks. And when a torpedo did knock a chunk away so? You were floating in a sea
of raw repair material. Given how long it took pykrete
86
to melt, and the minimal onboard refrigeration equip-
piece of pykrete, and the bullet ricocheted right off the block
and zipped across the trouser leg of Fleet Admiral Ernest King. It
was quickly decided that Mountbatten had made his point.5
Churchill and Roosevelt soon came to an agreement that
the worlds biggest ship should be built. But one man was
conspicuously missing from these meetings: Pyke. The ships
inventor was stunned to discover that to appease the Americanswho were not too keen on pottering eccentricshe had
been cut loose from his own project. It hadnt helped that Pyke
had sent a cable marked Hush Most Secret back to Mountbatten. It read, in its entirety: CHIEF OF NAVAL CONSTRUCTION IS
AN OLD WOMAN. SIGNED PYKE .6
In the end, the Habbakuk was never built anyway. Landbased aircraft were attaining longer ranges, U-boats were
being hunted down faster than they could be built, and the
US was gaining numerous island footholds in the Pacificall
contributing to a reduced need for a vast, floating airfield.
And deep within the newly built Pentagon was the knowledge
that America already had a secret weapon in development to be
used against Japanan end to the war that would be brought
about not by ice but by fire.
The prototype ice-ship, abandoned in Patricia Lake, did not
melt until the end of the next summer.
1 This Chequers account is included in the only biography of inventor Geoffrey Pyke: David
Lampes wonderful 1959 book Pyke, the Unknown Genius (London: Evans Brothers, 1959).
2 Martin Perutz, Description of the Iceberg Aircraft Carrier and the Bearing of the Mechanical Properties of Frozen Wood Pulp Upon Some Problems of Glacier Flow, in Journal of
Glaciology, March 1948, pp. 95-104. Theres an entertaining modern experiment involving
shooting pykrete at http://www.geocities.com/Broadway/1928/pykrete.htm. The Schulson quote is from my 7 March 2001 email interview with him.
3 See Pyke obituaries The Fearless Innovator, The Times (London), 26 Feb 1948, p. 6; and
Everybodys Conscience, Time, 8 March 1948, pp. 31-33.
4 Due to an Admiralty clerks error, it was Habbakuk rather than the correct biblical name
Habakkuk. Pykes memos are available through the Public Record Office (www.pro.go.uk);
they are Admiralty files ADM 1/15672 and ADM 1/15677. Also see the London Illustrated
News, 2 March 1946, pp. 234 237.
5 War on Ice, Newsweek, 11 March 1946, p. 51.
6 Martin Perutz, Enemy Alien, The New Yorker, 12 August 1985, pp. 35-54. Perutz notes
that design flaws might have made the Habbakuk impossible anyway.
92
93
above: Danny the Dragon as he appeared in a guidebook from ca. 1960. Courtesy
Rob Friedman
below: Danny the Dragon retired behind the maintenance yard at the Great Escape
. Photo Lorraine Rock.
previous page: Freedomland as illustrated in its guidebook, ca. 1960. Courtesy Rob
Friedman
Theres nothing like the knowledge of ones pending execution to inspire a need for comfort. As the 6th-century philosopher Boethius sat out his last days in a dungeon near Rome,
accused by King Theodoric of high treason, he penned his
Consolation of Philosophy, an imaginary discussion between
the condemned man and Lady Philosophy. The ensuing
debate pits the all-too-human sense of self-pity against the saving grace of rational thought, the only means of preventing a
lapse into pointless sentimentality. As a Christian, Boethius
did seek spiritual solace, but only insofar as it was reinforced
by the practice of a clear-headed, rigorous assessment of his
circumstances. A similar situation confronted Sir Thomas
More, who wrote his Dialogue of Comfort in the Tower of
London while Henry VIII and his cronies deliberated over Mores
demise, which happened in 1535 when he was beheaded. Like
Boethius, he invented a conversation, this one between two Hungarian relatives (stand-ins for the threatened English Catholics)
trying to come to terms with their likely deaths at the hands of the
Turks. For More as for Boethius, a period of anxious anticipation
and fear is made tolerable by the soothing words of an internal
dialogue.
The terms consolation, comfort, and condolence are
often used interchangeably in such contexts, motivated, of
course, by the presence of death. Letters of condolence in
particular have a long history, with records going back to the
ancient Greeks. While on a trip in 90 AD, Plutarch famously
consoled his wife upon learning of the death of their two-yearold child. He praises her dignified response to the tragedy:
It did not surprise me that you, who have never tricked yourself
out for theaters or processions and have always believed that
expense was useless in pleasures, should also have maintained
the same simplicity and modesty in time of sorrow.1 Stoic acceptance of grief was certainly not the only option for the mourning
relative, but it offered a measure of dignity and acknowledged
the fleeting nature of life with quiet resolve.
A more recent phenomenon in the category of loss management is the consolation prize, often associated with casualties
suffered in the sports arena. In the classical Greek games, prizes
were awarded only to the single victors, who typically received the
modest gift of an olive branch. They were also given all manner of
material rewards by the cities they represented, but the original
goal was to establish everlasting fame on earth, the sure route to
immortality. Defeat in the classical era was linked with a failure to
live on in legend. Only with the rise of the modern Olympics, first
held in Athens in 1896, did the practice of granting medals to second- and third-place finishers become established. Yet despite the
modern effort to make all talented participants feel recognized as
winners, there is still the sense that only absolute triumph will do.
Perhaps the most indelible memory taken from Olympic games
is the expressions of bitterness on the faces of the silver and
bronze medalists. Though they have clearly accomplished
a remarkable task, there can be nothing more depressing to
an athlete than to hear a sports commentator say, She gave
it an excellent try, but it just wasnt her night to take
96
the gold!
previous page, top to bottom: Tracy Moffat, Fourth No. 18, Fourth No. 2, and Fourth
No. 17, 2001. Courtesy Paul Morris Gallery
opposite: Mns Wrange, Second Best (13 Seconds from Immortality), 1991
97
98
99
100
the reserve officer who does not get to keep his official gun
the man who is considered too fat for his job as a bus driver
the man whose dog got an electric shock when it sniffed a lamp post
the smoker who had his pay cut for the six minutes it took him to smoke a cigarette
the fireman who went to a call on his bicycle, arrived late, and got dismissed
the man with a whiplash injury who thinks that the doctors are not taking him seriously
the girl whose five rabbits were killed by dogs
the ice hockey coach who thought he would be getting a Christmas present when he was called to the clubhouse but instead got
the sack
the former nazi who is not believed when he says he has left the nazi movement
the singer who had 1300 calls to his mobile telephone from the same woman
the woman who is threatened with eviction because for many years she has been feeding birds on her balcony
the woman who worked for a sect-like company in which those who succeeded were praised ecstatically and those who failed were
humiliated
the boy who was not allowed to be in the class photo because he was wearing a T-shirt that said Made of Swedish Steel
the woman who lost 50 kilos but who thinks she lost her identity because of the new body
the artist who thinks that the graphic arts have lost their legitimate status
the two parents whose child was forced to change schools due to magnetic fields
the woman who is called a psycho by an insurance company and is refused further compensation
the lottery saleswoman who wonders why the disabled have to move to make room for the election stands
the boy who got stuck against the gratings of the water circulation system in an adventure swimming pool
the woman who was cheated by her friends after winning a prize in the lottery
the headmaster who was beaten up by the father of one of the students
the man who was robbed by a person from the domestic help service
the man whose dead mothers diaries have been destroyed by mistake
the wrestler who was excluded from his club when he supported a wrestler in a rival team
the tuberculosis sufferer who was sent home from the hospital with aspirin and cough medicine
the woman who was advised to drink a lot of water during a yoga course whereupon she drank seven liters and lost consciousness
the man who has been fooled by an impostor who called himself a special messenger of the Vatican
the woman who was in the elevator going to her boyfriends apartment when the elevator fell three meters and she became so
scared that she forgot to take her pill and became pregnant
the boy who found live caterpillars in a mint chocolate
the girl who was knocked down by a car and is now stalked by the car driver who says that their lives have been joined
the man who for the past nine years has had the hiccups when awake and has tried everything imaginable to get rid of his hiccups
the politician who claims that he has been frozen out by his colleagues
the two young socialists who discovered that the international conference was overflowing with drugs
the woman who waited eleven months for her gallstone operation
the woman who discovered that Maryland Cookies can be fatal for people with nut allergy
the couple who are afraid of their neighbor
the woman who was supposed to fly to a bridal shower and whose airplane crashed in the water
the rock musician who was swindled by his manager
the two female taxi drivers who cant stand the customers constant pesterings any longer
the tenant who lives in a house damaged by underground construction blasts
the chairman of a golf club who discovered that 3,000 golf balls had been stolen from the clubhouse
the man who has received double invoices after buying shirts with his credit card
the soccer fan who got a bottle in his head while sitting in the stands
the man who accidentally shot himself in the leg and had to wait one and a half hours because there was only one ambulance in the
district
the family who has been evicted because the neighbors are tired of their children playing soccer in the yard
the dismissed director accused of sexual harassment and tax fraud who claims he is the victim of a conspiracy
the woman who was sacked by her own husband
the man who was forced to move because the rent was too much
the detective superintendent who was accused of ignoring information from a fortuneteller
the woman who discovered bits of glass in her minced meat
the man who feels swindled by the national lotterys new rules
the owner of a florist shop who wasnt given enough time to come up with a quote for a churchs Interflora Flower Relay
the tenant who has to pay twice as much rent as his neighbor with an identical apartment
the car mechanic who is three centimeters too short to get a job with SAAB
101 the book publisher who says he has wasted millions on meaningless books for people who cant understand them
statistics dates back to the 1830s and 1840s, but it is the advent
of sociology in the late 19th century as well as ideas like credit
reporting and movements like Social Darwinism-that represent
the beginning of systems being invented to meet perceived
needs to rank and classify people.
Credit reporting, for instance, is something that figures
largely in the book. You know how you get offers in the mail
to show you your credit report? Consumers get rated by TRW ,
and businesses by Dun & Bradstreet and other companies. This
all starts in 1841, with a New York City business called the
Mercantile Agency, which later turns into Dun & Bradstreet.
The country is at that time still reeling from one of the first
national economic crises the Panic of 1837 and the Mercantile Agency offers a service to meet a need that did not previously exist. It helps you decide who is trustworthy in a situation
in which you are now doing business with people you will never
meet. The telegraph, the railroad, the steamboat all these
developments make it possible to transact business across
great distances, and so the handshake and looking a man
directly in the eyes and sizing him up is no longer possible.
The Agency comes into existence to meet the need to
systemize trust. But for the first 40 or 50 years, credit ratings
are largely verbal. They are little stories. Only gradually do
they begin to develop numerical, encrypted, or coded rating
systems. So, if I am a silk wholesaler in New York City and I
receive an order for five bolts of silk from a general storekeeper
in Ohio, I want to know if hes good for the money. I would go to
the Mercantile Agency and they would have on file a little story
about this person that had been provided by a covert operative
in that persons town.
The service had recruited what the founders called local
correspondents in just about any location in the country where
people were doing business across distances. The local correspondent would send in updated reports every six months
about businessmen in that town. These reports would be things
like, Hes a thriving businessman but the rumor in town is that
his wife is about to divorce him and thats going to cost him a
lot of money, bring shame to his name, and it is inevitable that
he will fail.
That is one of the major new forms of narrative that comes
up in the 19th century because it is a way of keeping track of
your career over a long term. The idea of moving from town
to town when you fail and leaving your past behind becomes
much more difficult when you have anonymous spies keeping
track of you.
Much of the language that people use today to describe
themselves or others as a failure derives from the language
of business in general, and the language of credit reporting in
particular. I think that is part of the puzzle of failure in America.
Why have we as a culture embraced modes of identity where
we measure our souls using business models? For example, the
term A Number 1 used to describe a person comes from credit
rating. It means that this persons financial assets, A, and moral
character, 1, qualify him for the best rate of interest when he
borrows money. Or if you call somebody second-rate or thirdrate, thats another way of describing what type of credit rating
he has. If hes first-rate, that is because he gets the first rate of
credit, etc. If youve ever heard someone called of no
103 account, or good for nothing, these are from the lan-
guage of credit rating. Is he good for a thousand dollars to borrow or good for nothing? But in our culture, the phrase good for
nothing has moved from a very specific, purportedly objective
financial and numerical assessment to something that is much
more encompassing in terms of what it says about a persons
identity.
How do ordinary people evaluate failure before the creation of
these standards of failure?
In debate with public ways of measuring failure. My goal in a
lot of the cases is to get as many competing narratives about
the same person as I can find. I will have the credit report which
is narrative, a diary if I can find one, a letter from that persons
wife or relative describing the person. There are various ways
in which these historically specific narratives I mention start to
multiply in the 19th century so that your identity is a competition amongst the various people who claim the right to describe
you. Your identity is in some way a distillation of these narratives, and at various times one may win out. These narratives
that we use to construct our identity come increasingly with
rewards and punishments. If you are the sort of person who can
tell this type of story about your life, you get this reward. If you
are the sort of person who can tell another story, you get that
punishment. Your life story can help or hurt you.
So in terms of how ordinary people respond, they become
aware of the fact they are not the only person telling their story.
A lot of times they contest them. The major part of what I do
when I deal with the credit reporting is to look at libel cases
filed by people who felt that they had been maligned by various
credit agencies, which had reported that they were failures or
were going to become failures.
Credit rating was invented by a man named Lewis Tappan,
who was also an abolitionist centrally involved in the Amistad
case. Tappan was a silk wholesaler with his brother in New York
City. They went bankrupt spectacularly in the Panic of 1837, and
Lewis decided to get out of that business and do something
else. It is ironic that an abolitionist created a new way of putting
a price on a human head.
The two major drivers of changing American attitudes
toward failure in the long term have been, obviously, the growth
of capitalism and, much less obviously, the emancipation of
slaves. Prior to the Civil War, there were two categories of identity in American life: slaves and free people. After the Civil War,
there are two categories of identity in American life: successes
and failures. Obviously success and failure is much more of a
continuum than slave or free. On the other hand, because it is
a continuum and explained within the idea of meritocracy, it is
much easier to blame or to make moral judgments about the
deficiencies of someone who fails than it was to blame someone for being a slave.
What did failure mean before these changes?
Basically nothing, because the concept of failure as something that defines your whole identity is a new thing. In terms
of language, it doesnt exist at all before the Civil War: you will
not find a sentence like I feel like a failure in American writing before 1860. And it is, strangely enough, the usual literary
suspects who recognize the metaphoric value of business failure and begin to use it in ways that describe what the culture is
I didnt think my research would be operationally useful to people in those difficult situations, but they were very grateful for
any larger framework that could give them an understanding
of where the grammars of stigma come from. The most chilling
thing Ive read in maybe the last ten years was a quotation in
the New York Times in the first days after the shootings where a
young woman who was a survivor said Everybody knew those
guys were losers. In this school, people wear Abercrombie &
Fitch, American Eagle, or The Gap. The second most sickening
thing Ive read was in the wake of September 11 and prompted
me to go back and add something to the conclusion of my book,
and that was the discussion of how to divide payments to the
families. The purportedly objective mathematical formula that
uses age and future earnings potential and comes up with one
person on the 93rd floor being eligible for $600,000 and another
dead person on the 93rd floor being eligible for much less is an
example of a society that not only has its priorities out of whack
but a society that is really in thrall to a black-and-white notion of
success and failure. There will be no situation that Americans
will confront that they wont hammer into that box of success
and failure.
Emersons eulogy for Thoreau is posted on Cabinets website at www.immaterial.net/cabinet under the link for this issue.
Travelfest Is Closed
106
your shoulders with your hips in the air, legs over your head and knees resting on
the floor on either side of your ears, eyes gazing at your crotch.
William Safire penned this speech in 1969 for Richard Nixon in the event that the
Homer Simpsons endless wonder at the world failing to meet his expectations,
CD player. If so, I could make totally new music out of a ready-made CD. I began
by simply making pinholes on a bit of Scotch tape, which I stuck to the bottom of
a CD. The Scotch tape not only changed the pitch and timbre, but also the speed
and the direction of the spinning disc. To my surprise, the prepared CD seldom
repeated the same sound when I played it again, and it was very hard to control.
predating synthesizers and mixers. I used oscillators set above 30kHz to gener-
The machines behavior was very unstable and totally unpredictable; I therefore
ate combination tones and tape delay. This had a delightful instability caused
by the bias of the tape recording machine and the non-linearity of the system. I
album Musica Iconologos (1993) made with the same technique. It produced
improvised all my pieces, using this system and reacting instantaneously to the
sound waves that were so mercilessly distorted that the original could not be
sounds that occurred. There was always the possibility of failure (and success).
recognized. The related piece for Cabinet is part of a CD-ROM project called
The risk gave the music an exciting edge. Recorded in 1966 at Mills Tape Music
Center, Mills College, California. Produced with support from the Pauline Oliveros
Foundation (www.pofinc.org).
out of experiments with analog tape loops that later extended to music boxes.
In this piece, made in 2002, the sound of a creaking studio chair is used,
Music boxes are mechanical loops set into motion via spring compression and
consequently have the character of winding down as they play. This composi-
Behrenss trouser pockets. Tobias Schmitt modulates the sounds with digital
delay and modular synthesizer. The focus falls less on the inherent automatism of
of music box melodies. To further destroy this music of the home, I explored the
M. Behrens: www.mbehrens.com
The title refers to sonic distortion caused by submarine pressure upon the
and confirming it to the neighborhood. As this fight got louder, I got my video
whale off Cape Cod, the small vessel was repeatedly butted, nosed (and, it
camera out in the kitchen where they could be heard the loudest, the video
focused on an aloe plant on the table and the microphone eavesdropping on the
confused signals were imperfectly picked up by the device. Note the motif of a
downstairs commotion. The visuals are peaceful and oblivious to the sound. The
boinging antenna, and approximately five seconds of dead airtime, both caused
sound witnesses the failure in progress. This incident ended with the police tak-
ing the man away. Recording in the summer of 2001. All sounds based on the
Produced in 2002.
of ka-ching and consumerist fantasy forced to fail. The vrit dripping sounds,
A rare Edison cylinder recorded before Cohan changed the lyric Rag
Cabinet for details). Sung by Billy Murray, this topped the charts
lifted from the little-known Cold War-era radio program Reality Versus the Thing,
Sandage.
108
118
Mystery has always surrounded the life of the Swiss photographer Ernst Moir (1857-1929). Not least because, though
frequently photographed throughout his life, it is almost
impossible to see him. Indeed, the blurry photographs of
Moir possibly point to the origin of (and certainly exemplify)
the technical problem of two dot matrices mis-aligning during printing and resulting in a flawed reproduction, now commonly know as the moir effect. Or, perhaps, these photographs do not index the first human to produce the moir
effect at all, since we cannot be sure who they depict. What
we do know, first, is the Swiss governments account: that a
photographer named Moir was regarded, in the Switzerland
of the 1920s, as impervious to photography; second, that this
bizarre disappearance became a source of nationalist pride
(Moir was applauded for his technological Ludditism by
anti-modernist elements within Swiss folk culture, just as his
supposed visual neutrality was seen, more generally, as
socially exemplary); and third, that a collection of photographs ostensibly of Moir, and always with one illegible
figure is housed in Zurichs municipal archives. Opposing
this position stands a counter-testimony from Moirs relatives
(embarrassed, perhaps, to have their name still associated
with this famous photographic failure), which may implicate
the Swiss government itself in Moirs photographic illegibility. It was to investigate this case of meta-failure that the
editors at Cabinet sent me to Zurich. There I would document
a documentary abyss.
Living inside the Zurich archive for two months, I gradually pieced together the following biographical outline. An
Ernst Moir was indeed born, in 1857, in the capital of the
Swiss Confederations smallest Canton of Zug, within view
of the Bernese Oberland. Moirs primarily French ancestors made their way from Geneva to Lucerne, where we find
his father, Pierre Wolfli Moir (a postal clerk and scientific
tinkerer) playing a small role in the attacks on Jesuit Priests
that precipitated Switzerlands democratic revolutions of 18471848. The subsequent inquiry into these attacks, however, was
hampered by the lack of postmarks on the conspirators letters,
for which Pierre was held accountable. Exiled to Zug, Pierre
seemed to drop from sight: records of his later activities are
scanty, possibly because he instructed Ernst to vaporize his correspondence.
Aside from carefully recorded chemical experiments in his
fathers improvised lab, the main records of Moirs early education are decayed prints from his early Alpine photographic
expeditions to the Jungfrau with his Uncle Rudolf, in which
the two would document both geological and architectural
curiosities, accompanied (we learn from verses inscribed onto
the prints themselves) by readings of Albrecht Von Hallers
classic of Swiss proto-nationalism, Die Alpen. Moir seems
to have excelled at Zurichs Technical Institute, winning both
the Uli Fleiss Laboratory Award, and the Gottfried Taur Field
Photographic Award while, however, being chastised for
his habitual bureaucratic errors, especially his failure to sign
test and registration forms, a problem that would plague
Moir throughout his career. Strangely, nothing in Moirs
120
opposite: Moir and Willi Ostler during their final year at university, 1879
All photographs courtesy Swiss Alpine Museum
unsuccessful low-level flashes I increased the amperage. Lacking my spectacles, I misread 100 for 10. The effect was instantaneous and devastating. Lili grasped for her eyes and spun arcs
on her back on the chalets terrace while I, after smashing the
offending bulbs into innumerable shards, helplessly pawed the
tiles around her blind twirls. After two months in Zermatt monitoring Lilis condition, Moir was infinitely relieved to see signs
of progress (though Lili would always wear thick bifocals after
the event, and could never drive a car).
Meanwhile, in Zurich, Willi was forced to move forward
with the definitive prints of the government architecture project, without Moirs invaluable technical assistance. A novice at
printing, Willi mis-aligned the plates and produced a sequence
of blurry images, which were immediately rejected by the government agent. In a moment of panic, Willi suggested to the
stern client who had descended on his shop that the business
was dually owned (a fact he was successful in proving by
Ernsts faulty records), and that the responsibility for the quality
of the prints was in Moirs hands. By the time Ernst returned
to Zurich two months later, the moir effect was all over the
papers.
After 1896, Moir rarely appeared in public. In fact, it was
not until 1927 (two years before his death) that Moir became
known as a recalcitrant photographic object. This because
a handful of prints (ostensibly) of the photographer had been
included in an exhibition at the Alpine Museum in Bern called
Mind over Matterhorn, which documented para-scientific
phenomena among the Mountaineering Swiss. Here, Moirs
whole biography gets told through a consistent photographic
absence. We see Pierre, Uncle Rudolf, Willi, Jrg, Lili and many
other of Moirs friends and family, flanked by an eerie near
absence a figure almost legible, but subject to a kind of technical poltergeist. Interpreting this absence as deliberate, the
exhibition likened Moir to Emma Kunz and (later in his life)
Rudolf Steiner who embodied strains of holistic and anti-scientific feeling within Swiss popular medicine.
Because he refused to write (and even sign his name) after
1896, Moirs own response to the exhibition is not known.
Nor did Lili comment on her husbands infamy until 1941, two
years before her own death, when she wrote an open letter to
the new Swiss Canton Commissioner of Architecture. Inexplicably unpublished, this letter emerged only in 1998, accompanied by documents that justified the suppression as a measure
to insure faith in the Swiss central government during the war
that surrounded them, during which both French and German
elements of the population suspected the government of aiding
the opposing side.
Lili describes an afternoon in November of 1896, three
months after the explosion of the moir effect, in the Zurich
newspapers: Ernst had taken the train to Zug to gain distance
from the maelstrom that had hold of his name. I remained in Zurich to oversee our household. Returning from the Limmat vegetable quay, I noticed two men emerging from our attic dormers
with stacks of framed photographs. Till then, rude government
officials had visited only our studio, not our flat on Mnstergasse. I cursed the intruders from two blocks away. Whether
my suddenly frigid neighbors eyeing the spectacle from their
windows were in support of the theft, or had merely
121 chosen to ignore me, I do not know. Their daily glares
told me only that they, too, felt cheated, as Swiss, by the failure
of Herrs Ostler government subsidized project, now attributed
to my dear Ernst, of whom every photograph was gone when I
arrived. Now the scoundrels have shown why. How Lili, with
her weakened eyesight, was able to notice two small figures 60
yards away adds one final mystery.
122
123
A/C
Cheater.com
Every December and May, tens of thousands of students in
the United States face the possible humiliation of failing their
courses. Only one thing can save them: the Great American
Paper, one just beyond their reach. Little did the scientists who
devised ARPANET the early prototype for the Internetknow
that their tool for the dissemination of knowledge would one
day forever alter the political economy of college education.
Thousands of websites now hustle millions of college papers
waiting to be downloaded and handed in as ones own. Or, for
only $24.95 a page, you can make someone else in America pull
an all-nighter and write a brand-new paper for you on the topic
you know nothing about but should.
Having run into a deadline problem with this issue, it
occurred to us that we too might benefit from some help. We
commissioned cheater.com (we liked their forthrightness)
to write two papers for us in response to the following topic:
One can only understand ones true inner self by experiencing
failure. Discuss. We asked that one paper be written to get a C,
and one be devised to score the elusive A. To both our shame
and delight, the rates charged per page made these essays cost
roughly the same as the honoraria we pay to our illustrious writers. We offer these two essays here as they arrived to us.
Projected grade c
projected grade a
Orphan
Nina Katchadourian
The first time I noticed the sculpture, it was not very easy to see it.
Three dense bushes had bullied their way in front of it, and they
grew bigger and more brazen with each passing month. I wondered when the grounds maintenance people would notice and
give them a trim. They finally did, but took the radical approach of
removing the bushes altogether. The sculpture was now shockingly exposed, standing on a plain stretch of dirt, and completely
vulnerable to the public eye. It looked like a furry animal that had
been completely and inappropriately shaved.
The orange sculpture was a tripod of sorts, made of Ibeams with a Bert-like tuft of metal hair on top. It was positioned in an awkward, in-between buffer zone designated for
landscaping, sandwiched between the New York City Technical
College building and a street in downtown Brooklyn. A bit too
small to be monumental, and a bit too large to relate to the people walking by, it stood slightly above them, uncomfortable with
its height, like a tall pre-teen. It looked like the kind of sculpture
that had started its life with aspirations of a long tenure in front
of the Seagrams Building, later to be put to pasture at Storm
King. Given this, it was even more painful to see it stuck in purgatory at the corner of Jay Street and Tech Place.
It became a landmark for me, and I always looked for it
when passing by. For better or worse, the bushes never grew
back, and so it was easy to notice that graffiti and doodles
occasionally appeared on its skin. The vandalism was done
somewhat half-heartedly (Your mother is a ?) and never had
anything to do with the sculpture itself. Somehow, it did not
seem to elicit a reaction from anyone: it was simply a marker
thatthere is art in front of our building, rather than expressing
a concept or reacting to a physical space.
In January 2002, New York City Technical College underwent an external renovation, and a blue scaffolding skirt was
built around the perimeter of the building. Now, it looked like
the sculpture was forced to slump in order to fit under this new
structure. The scaffolding had been chopped up in awkward
ways to accommodate the top of the sculpture. Large construction vehicles and dumpsters were brought onto the side street
to cart away debris, and for several weeks a garbage truck was
parked with its rude, gaping rear-end provocatively facing the
sculpture. A few days later, a long streamer of yellow caution
tape was anchored to a lamppost on one end and the sculpture
on the other. The I-beams, which before had perhaps reflected
the artists interest in the sculptural qualities of industrial materials, now seemed merely part of the language of demolition.
A conversation with an official at New York City Technical College turned up the name of the artist, Allen Mooney, and
the title, Iroquois Walk. This Native American reference was
intriguing (was the Bert hair in fact some kind of headdress?)
but then on the artists website the sculpture is entitled Iroquis Walk. In this photograph, the picture is taken from behind
the sculpture, in effect showing us its point of view. It strides
out toward the street and into the world. The grass is rich and
green beneath its feet, and its orange paint glows in the sun.
I wondered if the artist had helped pick the site and what the
real title was, but the phone call went unreturned.
126 I wondered if he knew how it was doing these days.
127