Tag: earthquake

Mourning Is Broken

This has been the summer of calamities.

A few weeks ago I was glued to the addictive TV-computer super-combo, following the London riots with a mix of fascination and revulsion. Like many, I was appalled by the random violence overtaking the city. It might be plus normale for English society, but to me it was horrifying. And yet, it was hard to turn off and turn away, at least in part because I lived in London a little over ten years ago. As well as being one of the world’s great capital cities (I seem to have a penchant for living in them), it is also a personal favorite. Culture dominates every aspect of urban life there, from the markets and bars around Camden Town to the free museums and old-meets-new architecture, from casual pubs to high-end galleries – London, with its heady mix of history, high art, and street life, is a dazzling place.

I recently reflected on how much I felt at home in London when I lived there, and how it wasn’t that much of stretch to ingratiate myself there socially and culturally. I wondered, because of Canada being a Commonwealth nation, if the British mindset had seeped in. I may still grit my teeth at the thought of having a Governor-General, and seeing the Queen on Canadian currency (perhaps a little more over the years), but there’s something resoundingly vital about the connection , which made the events of mid-August even more upsetting. London will always be home on some level.
On the flip, monarchy-less side of that coin, charting the week that was in New York was a harrowing ordeal, perhaps because of its proximity to Toronto, and its proximity to my having lived there only a month ago. Like London, culture is everywhere in NYC, but it’s done differently; no one’s tied down by history (or violently kicking against it) so much as integrating it effortlessly into every day life. Old delis, noodle joints, and dive bars (coming down too quickly) are peppered with old, cracked photographs of celebrities, memories, streets, and faces. It isn’t high art – you can’t buy them. (By contrast, a fast-food joint in west part of Toronto has willfully-worn photos of recent events for sale along its walls for hundreds of dollars.)
You can’t buy the kind of energy a place like New York has, though people have peddled that fantasy to the naive and wide-eyed now for centuries. You pay for the museums, it’s true, but New Yorkers go on the free nights before grabbing takeaway and heading home. Culture is so much a part of everyday life there – graffiti-strewn walls, old/new architecture, free concerts, impromptu performances -so as to be taken for granted. It’s taken for granted because it can be, because that’s the strange, exhausting beauty of a Republic, and of what it stands for: if you don’t like it, it doesn’t matter, no one’s mandating you to accept anything, go make something yourself and see if you can do better. Everyone else has.
This shrugging, casually f*ck-it attitude, combined with the fiery-eyed ethos of self-determination and truth-or-dare initiative, creates the perfect storm for me to create in. But I don’t like to see the literal perfect storm floating over a place I love -or literal riots. This summer’s series of challenges make me wonder what art -theater, dance, film, music, and visuals -will come out, is being conceived this very moment, has been shaped by calamity and chaos. I’ve been writing non-stop the last few weeks, which explains my lack of posting here. But, with plans afoot to expand, diversify, and cultivate, the calamity and chaos of the summer will, hopefully, lead gracefully into the orderly repose of fall. To quote a favorite song, Everything Must Change.
All photos taken from my Flickr photostream.

Keep Calm. Carry On. Make Art.

Like everyone, I’ve been transfixed by the news lately. It’s been hard to tear myself away from the updates coming out of Japan -first an earthquake, then a tsunami, then nuclear disaster. It’s been frightening, frustrating, and deeply unsettling. To quote journalist Sree Sreenivasan‘s excellent column at DNAinfo, this is the most documented event in history.

For the past few days, I’ve hesitated to look at any “before/after” photos -not because I don’t think they’re important or good at providing perspective, but because I keep putting myself in the shoes of those who’ve lost houses, friends, loved ones: would I be okay with having some stranger ooohh and aaahh (and awwww) over where I used to live, where I built a life, and where only destruction and radiation reign now? I’d like to slap that stranger, actually. Stop your aww and do something.

So it caught my attention when I saw, last Friday evening, a link that Elephant Journal had posted to Facebook relating to Japanese erotica; a comment hd been posted below it, questioning the wisdom of said link owing to the tragedy that was unfolding. The link -and page -have since been removed. Hmmm. Seeing the article gave me a wholly different, if surreal, perspective on the crisis in Japan. There’s so much more to Japan (or Haiti, or New Zealand) than collapsed buildings and scenes of destruction. The people that walk through the mud with their small bags of belongings, remainders of their past lives, are a vital part of a culture we so easily take for granted within the sphere of both global and local experience. It was weirdly heartening (and humanizing) to be reminded of such an intimate aspect of Japanese culture at such a bewildering, tragic time.

Likewise, the news that Carnegie Hall will be continuing with its two-month JapanNYC celebration struck me as heartening, and a deeply important symbol right now. Culture plays a central role in life, and for me, it’s in these times of tragedy and loss that I turn to it more than ever. I feel stupid, bad and ignorant that it takes a gigantic wave to remind me of all the Japanese artists I love; with the Elephant Journal link, I couldn’t help but think of how much I’d enjoyed Sei Shonagon’s poetic, thousand-year-old work The Pillow Book, especially in my early 20s, when I would carry a copy around through various cities and adventures, making my own list of Things That Please The Soul (or Things That Please The Flesh, as suited the moment). The Carnegie Hall site reminded me of when I saw Seiji Ozawa, and how very different my perspectives on classical music landscape would be without him. Then news of numerous Yohji Yamamoto exhibits through London -a designer who re-ignited my on/off interest in fashion -and reports of a celebration of Japanese pop culture in St. Petersburg, Russia. Another report detailed how the incredible Hiroshi Sugimoto is getting into theater, specifically the traditional Japanese forms of noh and bunraku. Today, I came across a report on NY Art Beat detailing an exhibit by Yoshitomo Nara that happens at the Asia Society in the fall. I directly credit Nara’s work for inspiring me to draw again after many years -and for even daring to attempt to draw people in the first place.
But I can’t begin to describe the guilt I feel over all such newsy discoveries. It’s not like I didn’t know about these artists before. I’m suddenly seeing all these reports as a direct result of my mental tuner being firmly zoned in on the Japan frequency for the last five days. I love these artists. I love their work. Life would not be the same -not as bright, gorgeous, inspiring, or challenging -without their uniquely wonderful visions. I don’t want a tragedy to happen in order to remember and recognize them. All I can do, I think, is share my love of what they’ve contributed -to their country and to the world -and move along. It feels like the least -the very least -I can do.

Art credits:
Top, “Too Young To Die”, Yoshitomo Nara, 2001.

Bottom, Ohatsu the Courtesan, puppet designed by Hiroshi Sugimoto, from The Japan Times Online.

Yele


The tragedy in Haiti is unfolding moment by moment.

Anyone who learned of the massive earthquake the country suffered lastnight shared a visceral response; the tragedy is compounded by its location, with a country infused with a painful past that still pollutes the present.

One of the requirements of my position is to put aside the humanist gut-response and stick on my journalist’s hat. It isn’t always easy. But looking at the footage lastnight and into today, I am fascinated by the ways the earthquake has been reported. As darkness fell last evening, I was transfixed by television updates, though, this being 2010, I was online almost constantly as well. The internet was truly at the frontline of reporting, with people posting photos to Twitpic and the like, showing massive devastation. There were groups set up for families and plenty of links to aid organizations (see list, below). Outlets like CNN and CBC were using the very photos I’d already seen online in their news reports.


The nature of news reporting has changed -widened, expanded, and become far more immediate. Wyclef Jean understands this; his Twitter feed was providing constant information and updates on how to help -particularly through fast, easy, mobile means. It was heartening to see him get on 360 With Anderson Cooper so quickly. The question of a music/entertainment artist also being an activist has many people creasing foreheads and furrowing brows, but I don’t think anyone questions Wyclef’s commitment and dedication to making his homeland a better place. It’s the precise reason Yele Haiti exists.

Along with Yele, here are other ways to help:

Oxfam
Doctors Without Borders (MSF)
Samaritans Purse
Unicef

The Globe and Mail has a good resource page. It’s constantly being updated by a continual zipper of information, including phone numbers, stories, facts, and links, including a statement from Governor-General Michaëlle Jean, who, one presumes (hopes), will be using all the resources available to help her homeland. ONE has a very extensive list of links and statements from aid organizations. CBC also has a thorough list of facts, phone numbers, and ways Canadians can help.

History and politics always play into any aid effort, perhaps nowhere moreso than in Haiti, but let’s hope the online world mobilizes people to put those aside for now and focus on the healing.

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