Words to live by

by Jillian Butler, Ampersandology

In my experience, words of wisdom that filter down from famous writers tends to do one of two very specific things: either vibrate in the reader's mind with an uncanny connection, speaking to exactly that person and no one else. Or else these same words, landing in the wrong ear, can sound pompous, obscure and coined in the Ivory Tower. This tidbit from Philip Roth is in its own category: BALLIN' WITH NO END IN SIGHT. 

INTERVIEWER

Do you have a Roth reader in mind when you write? 

ROTH

No. I occasionally have an anti-Roth reader in mind. I think, How he is going to hate this! That can be all the encouragement I need. 

-from The Paris Review Interviews, Vol. IV. Find it here. 

Have a suggestion for a future Ampersandology topic? Got something you’d like to say? All feedback welcome! Shoot us an email at ampersandology@gmail.com, or follow Ampersandology on Facebook. 

Ideas Worth Spreading.

by Jillian Leigh, Ampersandology



Nowadays, I've been told we have short attention spans. I'm not sure if that refers to the collective or the individual, but it's not hard to suggest that our society was raised by the potent killer hybrid of media, advertising and instant gratification. Stats suggested to me by Google (via Simon Fraser University) puts the average general attention span of a literate human at 10 - 12 minutes.


Ouch. Godot my friend, you are out of luck. 


...okay? If you're still around, and haven't been distracted by a rival website, TV commercial or shiny ball of tinfoil, read on for the latest in short attention chic.

Through curious coincidence, I was recently exposed to Ignite, a little slice of the media pie started in Seattle in 2006 by Brady Forrest and Bre Pettis. The concept? 5 minute talks on an impressive variety of subjects -- from the intricacies on the economy to how to buy a car without being ripped off. And that five minute time span is strict -- each presenter is given a maximum of 20 slides that last no more than 15 seconds.

The enterprise has grown to support Ignite communities and talks popping up in Seattle, Portland, Paris, and NYC. The charm of Ignite is a good idea packaged well -- you can learn a little about a topic you're unfamiliar with in as little as five minutes. They gather people from all sorts of disciplines to

In essence, it's a extremely bite-sized version of the infamous TED talks -- which, if you're not familiar, are a terrific and actually fruitful way to waste an afternoon. TED -- standing for Technology, Entertainment, Design -- is a small non-profit that broadcasts their conferences online, boasting such notable attendees as Al Gore, Bill Gates and James Geary. Their motto slash mission statement? "Ideas worth spreading."

Oh TED, I could write you a love song. TED is a succulent dish of innovative thought, sleek presentation and genuine, passionate intelligence, a dish which tends to make your brain fat and heavy (last month, I was tempted to ban the site for a few weeks while my frontal lobe recovered). Everything you'd like to sample from our great, abstract postmodern menu (ranging from music to science to philosophy to new media) is available -- not in the quick nibbles of Ignite, but more moderate, filling portions. Like an intellectual course of French cuisine.

But then again, most TED talks run a WHOLE 20 MINUTES. This perceived inconvenience (to some) is what makes Ignite a remedy to short attention spans. In truth, Ignite is sort of the Showtime to TED's HBO: most of Ignite's content is built on novelty, digestibility and flash, while the older, more established name of TED is built on reputation, big names and innovation.

But really, at the heart of Ignite beats a pretty great idea. I don't know about other people, but whenever I finished one of these talks, the subject matter usually drives me to acquire more knowledge on the topic. It might be a handy way to retroactively warm minds up to old-fashioned research. And isn't anything that inspires more learning, in any capacity, a really quality enterprise?

I'll leave you with two samples from each: from Ignite, we have Jeff Veen, a designer, on my favourite old axiom: Pablo Picasso's "Good artists borrow, great artists steal."  Worth noting: the concept of the "cargo culture." Fascinating.




And from TED, James Geary on that old human language standby: the metaphor. 





And hey, just for kicks, my old flame Dave Eggers, on literacy, tutoring and children. As a former tutor and current writer/English lover, this almost made me emote. Hey. I said almost.

Work Hard and Be Nice to People

by Jillian Leigh, Ampersandology

This is a letterpress print by Anthony Burrill; I have wanted it for a very long time. Isn't it marvelous? It's already in its third printing. Just look at that simplicity, and admire the almost rustic lines of the wood block print process--no two would be the same. There is a vitality to this print, mark my overly-attached words.

No matter how trendy it seems to be in typography these days (and yes, I just used the words "trendy" and "typography" in the same sentence), I just never tire of the powerful simplicity in big words in a white space. The Keep Calm Gallery's print collection more or less fulfils this hole in my day.

"Work Hard and Be Nice to People."

"Do What You Love and Love What You Do."

"Freedom is in Peril."

I could live by these words. In fact, I more or less do live by them. I'm pretty sure you could convince me to do anything if you churned that sans-serif suggestion out of a letterpress on some satisfyingly thick paper.

But I just... I can't justify dropping what will probably come to a cool Benjamin on the Burril print when I already have spent enough money this year on typographic art. I mean, I CAN justify it, but let me tell you, it is NOT convincing. No matter how worthy I think the cause is, somehow the government doesn't agree with me that typography should be a tax break. Go figure! It's a war fought in vain, my friends.

I've already brought this beauty home this year. It came all the way from foggy Londontown! Many reproductions have cropped up in the past year, and this 1939 British propaganda posters have become almost trendy. But I wouldn't drop my change on any old reproduction...no my beauty is straight from the source, beautifully hand printed on Rives heavyweight paper (mouldemade in France!) with deckle edges. You can smell the peril, I swear to God.

...This is why Stuff White People Like has me on speed dial, isn't it? I do this to myself.

Postscript: I might make an exception for this mouth-watering Douglas Wilson print. IT IS PRACTICALLY FREE.

Advice.

by Jillian Leigh, Ampersandology

In the June 13, 1943 edition of the New York Times, Mark Rothko, together with Adolph Gottlieb and Barnett Newman, published the following brief manifesto:

1. To us art is an adventure into an unknown world, which can be explored only by those willing to take the risks.

2. This world of imagination is fancy-free and violently opposed to common sense.

3. It is our function as artists to make the spectator see the world our way not his way.

4. We favor the simple expression of the complex thought. We are for the large shape because it has the impact of the unequivocal. We wish to reassert the picture plane. We are for flat forms because they destroy illusion and reveal truth.

5. It is a widely accepted notion among painters that it does not matter what one paints as long as it is well painted. [Rothko said “this is the essence of academicism”.]

There is no such thing as a good painting about nothing.

“We assert that the subject is crucial and only that subject matter is valid which is tragic and timeless. That is why we profess spiritual kinship with primitive and archaic art.”

This is right for so many reasons.

I've been reading Brando biographies again, which is nothing sort of usual around these parts. This week it's Patricia Bosworth's Marlon Brando.  I've found a lot of speculation on screen legends in general (and Brando in particular) gets caught up in wading through the pile-up of hard-to-verify anecdotes that gather up over the crawling decades, trying to separate man/woman from myth. 

I don't think that should ever be a factor with Brando. If anything, my excessive reading on this hot mess dandy has taught me that I don't really believe there IS a separation to be found. Yes, I'm pretty sure Brando actually was that unbelievable. 

Any Brando biography worth its salt will deliver on this front, serving up an outstanding anecdote or two which all defy explanation, rationalization, and beg to be proven wrong. But you can't. Brando was a Bad News Bear of the first degree.

I like this one: violence, bitchiness and the triumph of Brando (despite himself). Brando had been cast as Stanley for Tennessee Williams' A Streetcar Named Desire on Broadway. The role was originally written for a much older man, but Tennessee fell head first for Brando's vicious portrayal and practically gift-wrapped the role for him (he was known to admonish director Elia Kazan to just "Let Marlon be."). Rehearsals began in the New Amsterdam Roof Theater and newcomer Brando was a bit of a loose cannon.... 

…Brando’s instincts took him all sorts of places in rehearsals, as in the famous birthday party scene in which he stormed from the table, then slammed his hand down on the plate, smashing it to smithereens. As he delivered his line, My place is cleared, you want me to clear your places?” he swept the rest of the plates from the table with a great crash. The first time he played the scene full out, he had to keep picking shards of china from his bloodied fingers, but he spoke his lines anyway. He was totally into his character.

On opening night in New Haven the show was a technical shambles. The complex lighting didn't work. Music cues were off. But when Brando entered as Blanche DuBois' brutal executioner, in his jeans and t-shirt clutching his bloody package of meat, the audience gasped.

[…]

 [After the show] playwright Thornton Wilder, author of The Skin of Our Teeth…primly gave his critique of Streetcar: it was negative. He maintained that the play was based on a totally false premise. No southern belle as genteel as Stella would marry a brute like Stanley, let alone succumb to his sexual violence.

Tennessee Williams listened politely for as long as he could, but when Wilder was out of earshot, he murmured, "That man has never had a good lay!"

Ha.  Outstanding.

The Future Language of Slaves

This link is from the blog of Alexander Charchar. He’s a designer/philosopher of sorts, and I follow his blog in part because I’ve always been fascinated with the thought process behind design (mostly minimalist--Jan Tschichold is a household name around these parts, but more on that later). But most importantly, this guy knows his stuff.

Take his most recent post. He set out to redesign the cover of George Orwell’s 1984—not to boost sales or max out on sleek, modern design, but to try and embody the deepest themes and message of the book. In other words, exploring the concept of a book and hopefully, communicating this abstraction on a level that you don’t see in conventional book design.

This isn’t something that’s even remotely commercially viable, but the idea fills my head with marshmallows and pixie dust. I just love creations of this nature—it reminds me that in any creative venture, you’re breathing in the dust from ideas that came before you. Art begats art, and etc.  Just the inkling of it fills my head with ideas--a copy of Wuthering Heights that comes as three or four separate diaries, scratched letters, and photographs. On the Road bound as one long, connected roll of a manuscript (complete with food smears and coffee halos). 

Of course, I like to think that one of the artists’ greatest tools—whether they’re painters, writers or filmmakers—is a healthy supply of tracing paper. As Picasso said (which I repeat too often):

“Good artists borrow. Great artists steal.” 

Read on: Reimagining Nineteen Eighty-Four [retinart]. 

Advice I Like to Take, part one

That Jim Jarmusch. That cat not only knew what time it was--he fixed the damn watch. 

True story.