When world leaders recently gathered in Pittsburgh for the G-20 Summit, First Lady Michelle Obama hosted a concert at the Pittsburgh Creative and Performing Arts School for students and spouses of international leaders. In her introductory speech, she affirmed the importance of arts education:
“We believe strongly that the arts aren't somehow an 'extra’ part of our national life, but instead we feel that the arts are at the heart of our national life. It is through our music, our literature, our art, drama and dance that we tell the story of our past and we express our hopes for the future. Our artists challenge our assumptions in ways that many cannot and do not. They expand our understandings, and push us to view our world in new and very unexpected ways…..
"It's through this constant exchange -- this process of taking and giving, this process of borrowing and creating -- that we learn from each other and we inspire each other. It is a form of diplomacy in which we can all take part….
“[T]oday ... we're presenting the gifts of these wonderful American artists to our friends from all around the world. And these artists are passing on the gift of their magnificent example to these young people who are here today, studying in this school -- showing them that if they dream big enough, and work hard enough, and believe in themselves, that they can do and achieve some uncommon things in their lifetime….
"That is the core of my mission as first lady -- to share the gifts that come with life in the White House with as many of our young people as I possibly can find. That's why I've worked to make the White House a showcase of America's rich cultural life….
"[T]he truth is, is that even though many….kids are living in Washington, D.C. and in cities across the country, just minutes away from the centers of culture and power and prestige, many of them feel like these resources are really miles away, very far beyond their reach. That's something that I felt growing up.And my husband and I are determined to help to bridge that distance. It is critical that we begin to bridge that distance.
"We want to show these young people that they have a place in our world, in our museums, our theaters, our concert halls.... We want them to experience the richness of our nation's cultural heritage, one on one, up close and personal, not on TV. We want to show them that they can have a future in the arts community -- whether it's a hobby, or a profession, or simply as an appreciative observer….
"In the end, those efforts, and the performances we're enjoying today, and the work these artists do every day here in America and around the world -- all of that reminds us of a simple truth: that both individually and collectively, we all have a stake in the arts, every single one of us.
"And you don't need to be rich or powerful to lift your voice in song or get out of your seat and shake your groove thing. [Laughter.] You don't need to be a Van Gogh to paint a picture, or a Maya Angelou to write a poem. You don't need a Grammy or an Oscar or an Emmy to make your work on the cultural life of your community or your country a valuable one."
"And ... people who might not speak a single word of the same language, who might not have a single shared experience, might still be drawn together when their hearts are lifted by the notes of a song, or their souls are stirred by a vision on a canvas.
"That is the power of the arts -- to remind us of what we each have to offer, and what we all have in common; to help us understand our history and imagine our future; to give us hope in the moments of struggle; and to bring us together when nothing else will. That is what we celebrate here today.”
10.07.2009
9.11.2009
Listen Here! is loud and clear
Thanks to everyone who came out for the launch of the Listen Here! short story reading series last night. And thanks to Troy and everyone at Koffee on Audubon for helping to make it a success. Check out Allan Appel's story "Listen Here! Debuts" (with photos and video) from the New Haven Independent.
A full schedule for Listen Here! can be found on the Arts Council's Facebook page and on the New Haven Review's website.
See you next week at Blue State Coffee for The Impious of the Perverse: High Holidays Special featuring readings of Philip Roth's "The Conversion of the Jews" and Melvin Jules Bukiet's "The Golden Calf and the Red Heifer."
Listen Here! is a collaboration between the Arts Council of Greater New Haven, New Haven Review, New Haven Theater Company, and four area coffeehouses. On Thursday evenings, from 7-8pm, short stories selected by New Haven Review editors are read by local actors. Readings take place on a rotating basis at Blue State Coffee, Koffee on Audubon, Lulu: A European Coffeehouse, and Manjares Fine Pastries (Westville).
A full schedule for Listen Here! can be found on the Arts Council's Facebook page and on the New Haven Review's website.
See you next week at Blue State Coffee for The Impious of the Perverse: High Holidays Special featuring readings of Philip Roth's "The Conversion of the Jews" and Melvin Jules Bukiet's "The Golden Calf and the Red Heifer."
Listen Here! is a collaboration between the Arts Council of Greater New Haven, New Haven Review, New Haven Theater Company, and four area coffeehouses. On Thursday evenings, from 7-8pm, short stories selected by New Haven Review editors are read by local actors. Readings take place on a rotating basis at Blue State Coffee, Koffee on Audubon, Lulu: A European Coffeehouse, and Manjares Fine Pastries (Westville).
9.08.2009
Music is something people do
Photo by Harold Shapiro
One rainy night in July, I drove to my dad’s house in Middletown to learn about my early childhood music education. From the kitchen where we sat I could see the door to his large studio, with the grand piano and piles and piles of music. I asked him what music I heard during my first five years of life, 1966-1971.
Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 8 in A minor. Chopin’s Piano Sonata no. 3 in B minor. Works by Boulez, Chabrier, Fauré, Haydn, Webern, and others. Songs of the Sacred Harp tradition. At my maternal grandparents’ cabin on the Elk River, my dad recalled, “They had lots of sheet music. We’d gather around the piano and sing – ‘Singin’ in the Rain,’ ‘I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles,’ many popular songs like that.”
At home, my dad – composer/performer Neely Bruce – didn’t “perform” classical piano works; he practiced them on the old upright piano in our living room, the only instrument my parents could afford. Listening to him practice, I heard short phrases played, repeated, changed, replayed. The right hand, the left hand, two hands together. When he composed, I heard him puzzle through notes and chords at the piano. He went slowly. He wrote things down. It was my first exposure to the artistic process.
Over the last 15 years or so, public interest in early childhood music education has exploded, spurred in part by new research showing that music is good for the developing brains of children. I have my own children now, and most parents I know are at least vaguely aware that music helps make children “smart.”
This popularizing of scientific theory can be traced to the 1993 study that coined the term “the Mozart effect.” Researchers at the University of California, Irvine concluded that listening to Mozart increased spatial reasoning in adults. Other scientists have theorized that good music increases “neural plasticity” in the brain – a kind of structural flexibility believed to facilitate learning. More recently, exposure to music has been linked to increased mathematical ability; improvements in memory; enhanced verbal ability; and an increase in overall cognitive functioning.
But when my two young children spontaneously break into song, dance around the backyard, and bang on pots and pans, my first thought isn’t their neural plasticity. Of course, positive brain development is one great reason to expose children to music at an early age. But the research, as fascinating as it is, doesn’t capture the essence of what music is or why it’s good for children.
There are three major methods of music education, each developed by an individual musician in the 20th century: Kodály, Orff, and Suzuki. Today, early childhood music education programs continue to draw on these three great traditions, often explicitly, sometimes in hybrid forms.
The work of John Feierabend, Professor of Music and Director of the Music Education Division at The Hartt School, University of Hartford, is rooted in the Kodály method, developed by Hungarian composer Zoltán Kodály.
“Kodály believed that the voice is the most personal, accessible instrument,” Feierabend explained. “A lot of parents don’t know how to sing songs to their children. My goal is to teach songs to parents, so they can sing to the children.”
Kodály felt that folk songs from one’s own culture are the best songs to sing to young children. As they grow, children take their knowledge of folk songs and use it to develop classical music abilities. For older children, Feierabend explores classical music and movement in a program – available in two DVDs – that he developed with former Martha Graham Company dancer Peggy Lyman. But for the little ones, he says, singing folk songs is the best.
“I’ve Been Working on the Railroad,” “This Land is Your Land,” “Shoo Fly, Don’t Bother Me” – these are some American folk classics that I know by heart. I sing them easily. Kodály, I suspect, would say there’s a reason I know these songs. They are simple, elemental, and passed down through generations.
“I think it’s great that there’s a burgeoning market in children’s music,” reflected my dad. “But that kind of music doesn’t necessarily have a life after you grow up. Other music you can return to throughout your life, and find new meaning in it.”
The Kodály method de-emphasizes built instruments. The Orff-Schulwerk method is different. In the 1920s and ’30s, German composer Carl Orff designed a system of percussion instruments for children including xylophones, metallophones, and glockenspiels. Orff-Schulwerk (which roughly translates to “Orff for Schooling”) incorporates singing, movement, chanting, storytelling, rhyme, and keeping the beat in a process that gradually moves children into ensemble music-making.
Since 1978, Margaret O’Hara-Best has been teaching preschool and elementary-age children in the New Haven Public Schools using the Orff-Schulwerk method. The Orff instruments, she said, are completely accessible to people who have never been exposed to music before. To play them, children use gross motor, rather than fine motor, skills, ensuring a high degree of comfort and success.
In her classes, preschoolers have limited access to the Orff instruments. They use them to play “Stop and Go,” with O’Hara-Best serving as conductor, and they improvise within certain tonal scales. As they grow older, the instruments enable them to make musical sound together.
“A big part of the Orff philosophy is that instruments used to teach children should sound good. And they do,” said O’Hara-Best. “They’re beautiful.”
“Music is an art,” my dad reminded me. Children respond to music that is beautiful, expressive, and emotionally rich. For me, this is a key to understanding early childhood music education. As Feierabend put it, “We want children to be beatful, tuneful, and artful. It isn’t enough to give children skills. We want them to feel something. We want them to express something.”
Aesthetic values were important to Dr. Shinichi Suzuki, founder of the Suzuki method. Suzuki observed how easily children learn their “mother tongue” (their first spoken language) and believed that every child could learn music just as easily. He recognized that even babies in utero appreciate music.
“He recommended that pregnant mothers choose one piece of baroque or classical music, five minutes in length, and listen to the same piece every day,” explained Dawn Rockwell, director of the early childhood music program at the Bethwood Suzuki Music School in Woodbridge. “The baby will recognize the music immediately after birth, and mother and baby will have this wonderful shared experience of music.”
The Suzuki method is famous for its approach to instrumental lessons for young children, sometimes as early as ages 3 or 4. Suzuki placed great emphasis on listening. Before young children learn to read music, they learn to hear music through a process Rockwell describes as “listening and translating.” The Suzuki early childhood method of pre-instrumental group classes was developed by Dorothy Jones. This method incorporates Suzuki’s core principals of listening, parental involvement, and exposing young children to classical music.
Is there anything young children shouldn’t listen to? Absolutely. According to John Feierabend, very young children respond best to the unaccompanied voice.
“Research has shown that as you add layers of accompaniment to a song, babies and young children lose their ability to hear the melody,” he told me. “When a child hears heavily accompanied music, they ignore it. They can’t take it in. This kind of music actually desensitizes young children to music.”
Feierabend described a 1997 study by a high school student who exposed mice to different kinds of music, then recorded their progress navigating a maze. Mice listening to no music reduced their maze time by 5 minutes; mice listening to Mozart reduced their maze time by 81⁄2 minutes; and mice listening to acid rock added 20 minutes to their maze time. Incredibly, these mice actually ate each other.
“They did the study twice and got the exact same results both times,” laughed Feierabend. “I guess children shouldn’t listen to acid rock.”
For parents seeking to enroll their children in early childhood music classes, Neighborhood Music School (NMS), located in downtown New Haven with satellite programs in Guilford and Madison, offers a range of opportunities, reflecting the school’s understanding that every child is unique and learns differently. Beyond being a great place to expose young children to music, NMS fulfills an important civic function: it’s a community resource for people of all ages, a center for the learning and sharing of all forms of music and dance.
“We have a philosophy that creating a rich and stimulating atmosphere is critical for human development,” said Larry Zukof, director of NMS. “The more stimulating, the better. We know that children need human contact, song, vocalization, movement, and a variety of materials that they can manipulate. We also know that putting young children into lessons – more structured learning – too early can impede their musical development.”
At NMS, early childhood music classes combine music and movement and expose children to a variety of musical forms. Pam Welch, director of the school’s early childhood music program, and many of the early childhood educators at NMS have trained with Feierabend and draw on his Kodály-based approach. They also incorporate classical repertoire. Some NMS early childhood faculty members are Orff-Schulwerk educators. This fall, the school has added two Orff-Schulwerk classes for children in grades 1-2, further increasing the diversity of its program. NMS also offers early childhood Suzuki classes through the Teddy Bear Rhythms program in Guilford (older children may continue with Suzuki lessons at the New Haven site).
For children ages 6 months to 4 years, NMS’s core early childhood classes, “Making Music,” offer an integrated approach that keeps kids playing, singing, listening, and moving. For children ages 3 and 4, the program branches in two directions: “1-2-3 Sing With Me,” a more singing-based class, and “Rhythmic Movement,” which is more dance-oriented.
For a different approach, Liz McNicholl, director of Musical Folk, teaches Music Together classes at two locations in New Haven and will soon be expanding to Branford. Music Together, a play-based program, offers fun, interactive musical learning for young children using songs, rhythm instruments, and recorded music. Songs are arranged or composed to appeal to children. They demonstrate particular musical principals and build on one another. Some of the music is traditional folk; many songs are composed by Music Together founder Ken Guilmartin.
Like Music Together, Kindermusik, another early childhood program, operates as a for-profit business. Music by the Sea offers Kindermusik classes in Branford, North Madison, Guilford, and Old Saybrook. Music Together works with a mixed group, ages 6 months to five years. NMS, Kindermusik, and Suzuki classes group children within more limited age ranges.
While classes offer valuable learning opportunities for parents and children, they are expensive. It costs several hundred dollars to provide continuous early childhood music classes for one child for one year. For many families, especially those with more than one child, the cost may be prohibitive.
But singing at home is free. I have an anthology of folk songs, and I search the Internet for new song ideas and lyrics I’ve forgotten. The public library has resources too. Neighborhood Music School offers scholarships in early childhood classes. And McNicholl periodically offers free Music Together classes at the New Haven and North Haven public libraries. For parents so inclined, religious communities such as churches and synagogues have always played an important role in music education by exposing children to live music. As they grow older, many children in the Greater New Haven region are fortunate to work with wonderful music educators like O’Hara-Best and others, both in public and private schools.
Music educators agree: live music is best. As my dad put it, music doesn’t come from a box.
“You saw from a very early age that music is something people do,” he said. “Today many people basically think that music is recorded. In the music stores of my childhood, there was only one small section of recorded music. The rest of it was sheet music, instruments, music stands – things for making music.”
When people make music together, they embody community in its best, most joyful sense. I see it in my own children and have experienced it in my life. Most children won’t become professional musicians. And that’s fine.
“Teaching music is not my main purpose,” Suzuki said. “I want to make good citizens. If children hear fine music from the day of their birth and learn to play it, they develop sensitivity, discipline, and endurance. They get a beautiful heart.”
It was late. My dad yawned. He’d gotten up at 4am that day (to practice the piano of course). I had 35 miles to drive and a busy day of work and children ahead of me. I thanked my dad. For the dinner. For the conversation. For the love of music he instilled in me from the beginning.
8.27.2009
Percent for Art: Beecher School
by Tia Blassingame
Every time I see this whimsical sculpture at Beecher School it brightens my day. The City of New Haven's Percent for Art in Public Spaces program mandates 1% of construction costs for the City's newly built and renovated projects be set aside for commissioned art. The program started 28 years ago. In the recent construction and renovation of numerous New Haven Public Schools, Percent for Art has successfully integrated artwork and artistic accents into the lives of countless students, teachers, parents, and residents. This is just one example.
Every time I see this whimsical sculpture at Beecher School it brightens my day. The City of New Haven's Percent for Art in Public Spaces program mandates 1% of construction costs for the City's newly built and renovated projects be set aside for commissioned art. The program started 28 years ago. In the recent construction and renovation of numerous New Haven Public Schools, Percent for Art has successfully integrated artwork and artistic accents into the lives of countless students, teachers, parents, and residents. This is just one example.8.25.2009
Hugo Kauder Competition '09

It’s not very often that a young musician gets the chance to premiere a piece written half a century ago by a prolific European composer. But this September at the Hugo Kauder Society’s Fifth Annual International Music Competition, ten talented finalists—oboists, clarinetists, and flutists—will showcase Hugo Kauder’s musical works, several of which are being publicly performed for the first time. Kauder, a mid 20th-century Viennese composer, is being celebrated today as an artist who penned beautiful, lush works. This was rare at a time when the music of the Romantic Era was being cast aside to make way for the atonal minimalism of the mid 20th-century.
The Kauder Competition is a great opportunity for the finalists, who hail from all over the world and who come from prestigious music schools such as the Yale School of Music, The Juilliard School, and the Eastman School of Music. The Competition’s live final round will be held on September 11 at Neighborhood Music School from 9 AM to 6 PM. Admission is free. The winners will be decided by three esteemed judges: Doris Goltzer, the solo English Hornist of the New York City Opera for fifty-one years; Jeanne Baxtresser, Solo Flutist of the New York Philharmonic; and Richard Stoltzman, a two-time Grammy Award winner and one of today's most sought-after concert artists. On September 12, a Winners Concert will take place at Firehouse 12 in New Haven from 2-4 PM. The first place winner will receive $4000 as well as a NYC performance opportunity. The second and third place winners will receive $2000 and $1000 respectively.
So check it out- It’s a rare opportunity to attend a premiere of non-contemporary pieces, and it’s looking like this year’s Kauder Competition will be fantastic.
--Cynthia, Arts Council Intern
8.13.2009
Working at Woodstock
By Jonathan Waters
I was working as a carpenter that summer, rebuilding a cape
cottage. I knew some tech people who worked at the Fillmore East in
New York City who asked me to give them a hand building a stage, etc. for a music festival in rural New York. I was eighteen.
I packed the car with tools, a tent, some grub, and a few friends and we were off. It was about a week before the festival and there was a lot to do.
I was assigned to work on a bridge over a road between the performers' pavilion area and the stage. We pitched the tent in the performers' area, so we were in a restricted area. We worked pretty much 24/7, supplemented by vitamin
b12 shots administered by the festival Dr. Feel Good.
At a certain point it started to get really crowded. There was concern that it
could easily get out of hand. We were sort of at the epicenter. The
only way in or out was by helicopter. They flew in food for us.
After the building was done I was assigned to work security on the bridge, to talk
down climbers. I watched a lot of the show from that area behind the
stage and in a video trailer that a friend was working in.
We had about ten people sleeping in a four-man tent.
The rain ...
My memories are mostly informed by the movie. What I remember of the
actual festival is a blur of images. Like most people, probably, I had
never seen so many people in one spot, all in the same situation. It
was a great leveler and there was a feeling of togetherness of which much has been spoken.
After it was over and our job was done we packed up our things and attempted to leave. I had been there two weeks and needed to get back, but the roads were blocked by abandoned cars and it took a while get out. It looked like the aftermath of some
great storm, lots of garbage and abandoned belongings, detritus from the event.
I saw a sunburned, half-naked man riding on top of a van fall off onto the highway at around sixty, bounce once, and roll into a ditch. Amazingly he was OK.
About six months later I received a check. I think it was about $250. I never expected I would be paid.
The next summer I worked the Bath Festival of Blues and Progressive Music in England.
But that's another story ...
I was working as a carpenter that summer, rebuilding a cape
cottage. I knew some tech people who worked at the Fillmore East in
New York City who asked me to give them a hand building a stage, etc. for a music festival in rural New York. I was eighteen.
I packed the car with tools, a tent, some grub, and a few friends and we were off. It was about a week before the festival and there was a lot to do.
I was assigned to work on a bridge over a road between the performers' pavilion area and the stage. We pitched the tent in the performers' area, so we were in a restricted area. We worked pretty much 24/7, supplemented by vitamin
b12 shots administered by the festival Dr. Feel Good.
At a certain point it started to get really crowded. There was concern that it
could easily get out of hand. We were sort of at the epicenter. The
only way in or out was by helicopter. They flew in food for us.
After the building was done I was assigned to work security on the bridge, to talk
down climbers. I watched a lot of the show from that area behind the
stage and in a video trailer that a friend was working in.
We had about ten people sleeping in a four-man tent.
The rain ...
My memories are mostly informed by the movie. What I remember of the
actual festival is a blur of images. Like most people, probably, I had
never seen so many people in one spot, all in the same situation. It
was a great leveler and there was a feeling of togetherness of which much has been spoken.
After it was over and our job was done we packed up our things and attempted to leave. I had been there two weeks and needed to get back, but the roads were blocked by abandoned cars and it took a while get out. It looked like the aftermath of some
great storm, lots of garbage and abandoned belongings, detritus from the event.
I saw a sunburned, half-naked man riding on top of a van fall off onto the highway at around sixty, bounce once, and roll into a ditch. Amazingly he was OK.
About six months later I received a check. I think it was about $250. I never expected I would be paid.
The next summer I worked the Bath Festival of Blues and Progressive Music in England.
But that's another story ...
8.05.2009
Katro gets some well-deserved press
Arts Council member (and friend) Katro Storm is (deservedly) in the news. Katro, along with students from Hillhouse High School, is working on a mural at the Stetson Branch Library on Dixwell Avenue. Read Adzua Agyapon's story in New Haven Independent and leave a comment. Then come back and leave a comment here.
7.20.2009
Reality TV show to crown contemporary-art star
The winner of a new reality TV series will be awarded "a gallery show, a cash prize and a sponsored national museum tour," according to a story in The New York Times.
What do you think about this?
What do you think about this?
7.13.2009
Were you on the bus?
Saturday, five CT Transit bus routes featured live performances including those by poet Deborah Elmore, the New Haven Theater Company, djembe master Lansana Touré and dancer Mabinty Keira, The Viola Question, and Urban Concept.
The program was called Exact Change.
Were you part of the experience? If so, tell us what you thought.
The program was called Exact Change.
Were you part of the experience? If so, tell us what you thought.
7.08.2009
All Michael, all the time ...
Check out a collection of today's front (newspaper) pages. What are your thoughts about the continuing coverage of Michael Jackson's death?
"White Collar. Blue Collar. Pink Slip."

Have you experienced the Arts Council's White Collar. Blue Collar. Pink Slip. exhibition at The Parachute Factory?
Allan Appel recently wrote about the show in the New Haven Independent.
The exhibition, which includes this image by David Ottenstein, explores the uncertainties, anxieties, and rewards of the workplaces that shape our identities. It is the first of a two-part exhibition called Work/Place, which examines the environments on which our survival depends. The second part of the exhibition, Out of House and Home, opens in October.
7.01.2009
Arts Council news
Join our new online social network. Don't forget to upload a photo of yourself when you become a member!
We've moved our Facebook page to New Haven Arts. Become a fan today!
And while you're online, follow our Twitter feed!
We've moved our Facebook page to New Haven Arts. Become a fan today!
And while you're online, follow our Twitter feed!
6.20.2009
An Appeal to Connecticut Artists
Where is the art that opens a dialogue about race? After the post-9/11/Bush years of silencing all dissenting dialogue, I had expected this flourish of art that would challenge assumptions, assess where we had been and were going. More importantly I had expected artists to do what they do so well: stimulate dialogue on difficult and oft avoided topics.
Despite news reports to the contrary, we are not in a post-racial era. I measure our progress by the number of times shortly after President Obama was elected that my white counterparts let doors and elevators close in my face. I measure it by the length of a drive- to a meeting in Bridgeport the day after the election that I took with a corporate vice president- during which every topic was discussed save the one at hand- the election. I measure it by the Connecticut schools and workplaces that had outright bans in place on watching or listening to the Inauguration Ceremony. I measure it by the vitriol that I hear on a daily basis with regard to “that one,” “this is what happens when a black is president,” the evils of socialism, or referencing of the President simply as “Mr. Obama.” I measure the need for art that challenges us to stand and speak on difficult topics- which we shy away from save with the like-minded- by the veritable silence and mournful tone of my office the day after the election.
A fundamental truth has died regarding the ability and intellect of non-white Americans. Mistakenly it seems that many had long thought this belief to have been overthrown by the deeds and achievements of careers, lives. Hidden hatred and prejudices are bubbling to the surface, and to tacitly say we are past race seems a dangerous game of denial.
I ask again: where is the art that will force us to grapple, see, and progress? Can we as a community and nation afford to remain silent? May brushes and musical notes, lens and keystrokes soon compel us to speak and argue, but invariably see one another.
Tia Blassingame
Despite news reports to the contrary, we are not in a post-racial era. I measure our progress by the number of times shortly after President Obama was elected that my white counterparts let doors and elevators close in my face. I measure it by the length of a drive- to a meeting in Bridgeport the day after the election that I took with a corporate vice president- during which every topic was discussed save the one at hand- the election. I measure it by the Connecticut schools and workplaces that had outright bans in place on watching or listening to the Inauguration Ceremony. I measure it by the vitriol that I hear on a daily basis with regard to “that one,” “this is what happens when a black is president,” the evils of socialism, or referencing of the President simply as “Mr. Obama.” I measure the need for art that challenges us to stand and speak on difficult topics- which we shy away from save with the like-minded- by the veritable silence and mournful tone of my office the day after the election.
A fundamental truth has died regarding the ability and intellect of non-white Americans. Mistakenly it seems that many had long thought this belief to have been overthrown by the deeds and achievements of careers, lives. Hidden hatred and prejudices are bubbling to the surface, and to tacitly say we are past race seems a dangerous game of denial.
I ask again: where is the art that will force us to grapple, see, and progress? Can we as a community and nation afford to remain silent? May brushes and musical notes, lens and keystrokes soon compel us to speak and argue, but invariably see one another.
Tia Blassingame
6.10.2009
On art, Web 2.0, and physical/digital seamlessness
Last month, New York-based photographer and digital-media artist An Xiao participated in a panel discussion called "Big Love: Artists and Social Networking Technology," a conversation organized to complement "Status Update," an exhibition presented by the Arts Council of Greater New Haven in collaboration with Haskins Laboratories that explores the use of emerging social networking technologies.
More recently, An was kind enough to put some of her thoughts about art, Web 2.0, and physical/digital seamlessness into words. Enjoy ...
Toward the end of the "Big Love" panel discussion, moderator Sharon Butler asked an intriguing question: "What do you see as the future of all this?"
By "this," she meant art and social media, and social media and society. I believe strongly that if you want to understand the future of social media and the tools of Web 2.0, you should look at either digital natives (i.e., teenagers and younger) or citizens of developing nations (i.e., those whose first important encounters with communications technologies were via cell phone, rather than the Web).
During the panel discussion, I discussed briefly the idea of digital/physical seamlessness, a world in which our digital and physical lives intersect seamlessly. In this view, the line between "real life" and "virtual life" is blurred, for activities in the digital realm can and do have very real consequences in the physical realm, and vice versa. Whereas computers and phones first evolved as tools for business and communications, they have further evolved into extensions of ourselves, storing vast amounts of personal information and allowing us to keep in touch with thousands of people.
This is most true in the lives of today's teenagers, who have scarcely known any other life but that which is infused with social media technology. Witness the 21st century teenage break-up. Teenager A posts a dramatic Status Update about Teenager B, her boyfriend. Teenager B leaves a comment about Teenager A's photos. All of this is carried out on the stage of common news feeds viewed by mutual friends, and rumors quickly spread both via texting and Facebook, and then, when school starts, via traditional whispers and notes. News of the break-up, along with the attendant emotions, spreads rapidly through the physical and digital worlds.
The future of social media is simple: it won't be known as social media. Online social media will simply be part of a balanced social diet, a mixture of both online and offline interactions. And with this seamlessness will come new values and norms, as Web 2.0 becomes Life 2.0.
Edutopia, a project of the George Lucas Education Foundation, has identified that digital natives, armed with tools and technology unlike any other generation, prefer to create, collaborate, and teach while learning. In other words, the TV generation sits on a couch and absorbs; the YouTube generation wants in on the fun.
Edutopia has a number of suggestions about what this means for education, and we're already seeing how digital/physical seamlessness and online social media have influenced everything from political campaigns to business. But what does all this mean for art? If I had to guess, there are three things artists working in any medium should consider as we look toward "Art 2.0," that is, art infused with the principles of Web 2.0.
1. Engage your audience in new ways.
While the traditional artist statement, Web site, and interviews will continue to serve your audience, your audience will continue to demand more. The social media audience wants to keep the conversation going and ask their own questions. Set up a Twitter account, set up a blog, set up a Facebook fan page (or make your own page public). Give your audience a way to interact with you after seeing your work, to learn more about your creative practice and the concepts behind it.
But, perhaps more radically, give your audience a way to interact with your art. You can convert your art to desktop backgrounds, yes. But what if you also made select works available in low-res digital form via a Creative Commons license, so fans of your work can "remix" it? It can sound shocking and uncomfortable, after pouring your heart and soul into your work, to release it to the world not simply for criticism but for editing. And yet musicians, including the ever-popular Nine Inch Nails, have been doing this for years.
This is the ethos of the YouTube generation: they want to create as often as they want to absorb. Try it with one or two of your more popular pieces and see what happens.
2. Connect your audience with one other.
Instead of thinking of art as a two-way experience between artist and audience, start thinking of Art 2.0 as a multi-way experience between artist and audience, and between audience members and one other. This is no different from chatting with your friends after seeing a movie, or going with your family to a museum exhibit and discussing it over coffee afterward. What's changed is that the audience has grown larger and more global, and the tools for connecting them to one another have become much more sophisticated.
The Obama campaign's success with the new generation partially came from the idea that anyone could help him run the campaign, as he crowdsourced campaign calls, meetings, and flyer distribution. He's doing this again as he tries to drum up support for his health-care program. You may not have the million-dollar resources of a national political campaign, but the tools of social media are free and available to all. Your audience will stay more engaged with your work if they can engage with one another.
Here's one basic idea: a Facebook-based guestbook at your next show, so folks can not only see one another's comments, but comment on their comments and stay in touch afterward.
3. Strike a balance between online and offline media.
Don't get me wrong: Art 2.0 can still hang on the wall and sell, and you can preserve your artistic mystique just fine (no one needs to know about the toil and trouble of every little detail in the studio!). I believe firmly that artists deserve fair compensation for their work. But audiences also deserve greater interaction with the work as well. This is true now (just look at how MoMA and the Brooklyn Museum have been giving visitors new ways to interact with their collections), but it will become even more so if we want to engage a world quickly growing accustomed to the values of Web 2.0.
Contrary to beliefs I've heard numerous times, the digital generation doesn't live on their computers and cell phones. They live through their communications devices, which make up a percentage of their lives. They still get together for movies and parties and study sessions and what have you. The need for in-person human interaction will never change; no one can deny the power of seeing a painting in person versus seeing it on the screen. The key is finding a balance by seamlessly integrating your physical art practice with the tools of the Internet.
In the end, what I hope to get across here is that Art 2.0 is less a difference of quality as it is of scale. The eroding borders between digital and physical life have led to new values and norms around interactivity and engagement being emphasized, but these values and norms have always existed. Artists have forever borrowed from and built upon one another's work, and audiences have forever chatted with one another after seeing a good show.
What's new is that the digital world has emphasized audience ownership to a greater degree, and it's allowed that audience to stay in touch for a longer period of time and across the world. A generation raised on YouTube and Facebook is no longer accustomed to passive experiences, whether with the Web or music or art. What artists do to engage this new audience with their art practice will, I suspect, come to define art in the 21st century.
An's Web site
An's blog
An's Twitter feed
The Arts Council's Web site
6.06.2009
The Cellutations experience

From the Urban Dictionary:
“1. Cellutations
slang for cell phone
Call me on the cellutations”
Cellutations is an evolving exhibition of cell-phone art presented by the Arts Council of Greater New Haven.
Cell-phone images have been sent by friends and strangers, from locations near and far, to a dedicated e-mail address, cellutations@gmail.com. Many of these can be viewed on the our Cellutations page on Flickr.
This is an exhibition that will evolve without end, a show whose beauty lies in the fact that anyone can see it, and anyone can be a part of it.
While its physical home is in the Arts Council's Sumner McKnight Crosby Jr. Gallery at 70 Audubon St., in New Haven, Conn., Cellutations really exists in the frozen moment each image represents.
5.21.2009
Cellutations
Cellutations, the Arts Council's evolving cell-phone art exhibition, has gone viral. This recent submission (above) came from K. Brian Söderquist in Copenhagen, Denmark.
This image (Brusselsislookinggreytoday) was submitted by Johan Orye.
And Susan Farricielli sent in this image (Joe Munroe at McSorley's).
Be part of Cellutations. Send your cell-phone images to cellutations@gmail.com today!
5.20.2009
Has the down economy affected your creativity?
The New York Times recently talked to several artists about how the down economy has affected their work. The story is worth a read (it's not all doom and gloom).
What about you? Has the down economy affected your creativity?
What about you? Has the down economy affected your creativity?
5.18.2009
Orchestras are taking requests by text message
Have you had an interactive audience experience like this?
Would New Haven be an Arts Hub Without Yale?
Chris Arnott wrote an interesting piece for the Yale Alumni Magazine suggesting that New Haven was destined to be a cultural hub, even without the abundant resources of Yale. He asserts that "New Haven arts can be just as inclusive as Yale can be exclusive. . . ."
5.06.2009
Ian David Moss' "Revisiting arts advocacy"
Today, on his blog, Createquity.com, Ian David Moss posted a piece called "Revisiting arts advocacy." Take a few minutes to read this and other posts on Moss' blog. It's a blog worth adding to your "Bookmarked" Web sites.
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