Showing posts with label Knowing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Knowing. Show all posts

Thursday, January 20, 2011

On Stuffed Animals and Pickled Heads

Stuffed Animals and Pickled Heads: The Culture and Evolution of Natural History Museums,
by Stephen T. Asma

The book is a fairly enjoyable, narrative sort of history of museum information, comprising information on science, anatomy, dioramas, displays, art, various important historical figures in the development of the museum, preservation techniques, and major institutions like the Royal Society and the Field Museum. At first, I was a little turned off by the book because I feel like the author writes how I would write this very book (with a little bit of forced humor and some equally forced narrative to drive it along . . . like "I wondered how they prepare specimens, so I went to the museum to find out,") but it's gotten better. :)

In the introduction, he mentions the similarity between science-based museums and art museums. This is a good point, I feel, to keep in mind. . . that this museum exploration bears an important relationship to the way we cordon-off artwork as well.

"The odd thing about a specimen is that it's a kind of cipher when considered in isolation. Specimens are a lot like words: They don't mean anything unless they're in the context of a sentence or a system, and their meanings are extremely promiscuous." xiii

He clarifies the distinction between a homology and an anlalogy in terms of physiology. So a bird's wing and a butterfly are analogous, but derived from similar selection pressures rather than from a common genetic background. Vs. a human hand and whale fin, which does have a homology. I don't know why I felt the need to post-it-note that in the book, but I did.

Somewhere in there, he describes what the embalming process is actually like for normal dead bodies in America, and that completely confirms my desire to be cremated, and to forget everything I read about that so I don't have to associate this incredibly violent procedure with anyone i ever know that passes away.

Apparently, there is a collection of suitcase-shaped diorama cases that the Field Museum used to take around to different schools. "Each of the nine hundred dioramas is housed in a Plexiglass-fronted polished mahogany case, about 23 inches high, 25 inches wide, and 7 inches deep." There are in the "education department" of the museum and educators can apparently still check them out. (32) I should make these! :)

He talks about evolution and how we are good at looking for patterns because those that could recognize patterns of danger left more offspring. (Our ability to simplify things. . . which I talk about in drawing class) 35

"In 1883 William T. Hornaday built one of the first lifelike exhibitions for the National Musuem, one of the first in all of America. The exhibit, called "Battle in the Treetops," displayed two male orangutans in a territorial fight, and it was an early attempt to break away from the dry taxonomic displays that previous curators had arranged for scholarly audience. Hornaday folowed up this popular success in 1888 with his "American Buffalo Group." . . . I just love that title, for some reason. (42)

Later it talks about how he went to Montana to gather "authentic materials" and that makes me think of how I should use local soil and rocks or whatever if I do some kind of installation like that.

Field musuem is named after Marshall Field, btw. I guess I should have known that.

68 - talks about one method of preparing a specimen in which "Animals were relieved of their viscera, blown into three-dimensional balloons, and shellacked for display." BALLOON ANIMALS. I love this. Can I make this? :)

OK-- several months after first posting this (03.08.2011), I stumbled upon the exact realization of this idea.



Hanging animals from the rafters! A whole room of animals dangling from the sky becasue there are so many of them? Possibilities.

Robert Boyle (of Boyle's law) was involved with the revolution created by the microscope and understanding crystalline structures, stuff like that, so he wrote a book that I just love the title of: "The Origins of Forms and Qualities" which revealed the underly microstructures of everyday objects. I think that would be such a great name for a show about evolution and visual things and animal and . . . yeah. (73)

"If science be manifestly incomplete, and yet of the highest importance, it would surely be most unwise to restrain inquiry, conducted on just principles, even when the immediate practical utility of it was not visible. In mathematics, chemistry, and every branch of natural philosophy, how many are the inquiries necessary for their improvement and completion, which, taken separately, do not appear to lead to any specifically advantageous purpose; how many useful inventions, and how much valuable and improving knowledge would have been lost, if a rational curiosity and a love of information had not generally been allowed to be a sufficient motive for the search after truth." -- Thomas Malthus (1776-1834) - quoted on p. 81

Here is a beautiful and lovely and wonderful Latin phrase: "Pulvis et umbra sumus" = "We are dust and shadow." I LOVE THIS. It was used in some morality play things (like a plackard held by skeletons). (92)

Ok. How great is this:
"Aldrovandi's book on chickens includes a chapter entitled, "Concerning Freak Chickens" where in he sets for credible embryological abberations . . . At one point, he states, "If any bird should be called a freak, it must be the rooster which I observed a few years ago, when it was alive, in the palace of the Most Serene Grand Duke Francesco Medici of Tuscany; it struck fear into brave men with its terrifying aspect." This conjures up a wonderful image of burly grown men trembling in the presence of the dread chicken of Tuscany." !! (93)

end there temporarily ----

101
"Remember that the cosmos were understood, at this time, as a giant machine. Clocks were a favorite metaphor of the day. If clocks have thier orderly structure because intelligent minds have designed and built them, then the clock itself is a kind of proof of a designing mind. By analogy, the orderly cosmos is evidence for a designing God."

In talking about evidence of evolution, he says "Next, the existence of seemingly useless organs and structures is unintelligible without evolution, but quite coherent with it. Wisdom teeth and the appendix are well-worn examples of structures that served a function in prehuman history, but some lesser-known cases include the useless femer and pelvis in whales (indicating their terrestrial quadruped ancestors), a similarly useless pelvis and femur structure hidden within the bodies of primitive snakes such as boa constrictors (indicating that snakes evolved from four-footed lizards . . . etc." 161

167 "Of course, there is no real acme to evolution. Evolution is not progressive, because the idea of 'success' or 'better' is completely relative to enviroment rather than absolute." (in this context, he talks about an exhibit in France that is actually pretty funny where it shows a progression of skulls, culminating in DesCartes (the top is a Frenchman! :)) and then having a box where you can see yourself in a mirror to see that evolution affects you too. :)

171 Recounts a museum display that has benches (part of the Grande Galerie de l'evolution in Paris) that holds "retractable plexiglass slates of scientific information" in the benches. Interesting.

172 He talks about how man's destruction of nature is a nearly constant part of today's moral rhetoric of the museum saying "When you start out, you read the bench slate: "Relations between man and nature: Human activity has transformed the evolution of the natural world, causing rapid, profound, and sometimes irreversible modifications to the environment." This really translates to "Tour the astoundingly many ways that humans rape the planet and find new and interesting reasons to loathe yourself and your species." :) He goes on to mention some dioramas that I should perhaps look at "Like Fredrick Ruysch's dioramas, which called upon his eighteenth-century audience to repent their sins. . . " etc.

Great sentence about the goal of museums, and perhaps dare I say the goal of art things as well: "No curator believes that patrons will drop to their knees in moral epiphany. Moral sentiments will not suddenly materialize where there previously were none. But dormant moral sentiments (of responsibility, duty, guilt, compassion) can be rekindled by such museological rhetoric, and exhibit imagery can play a powerful role in this mission." 172

"tiny replica of our planet" -- like a jewel. Like a pin top. Like Carl Sagan's pale blue dot. (talking about a room at the end of the Paris museum dispaly I think. It's a circular room with an "intense beam of light strikes the tiny orb" and there is new age music so he says its too melodramatic and funny.

He describes the whole experience of walking through the Paris gallerie of evolution exhibit, which is multiple floors and sounds really amazing. He actually spends an entire chapter, called "Exhibiting Evolution" comparing and contrasting I think three major exhibits of evolution. It's really great -- easily the best chapter in the book. It gives a lot of ideas for how to present things, but also what those kinds of decisions mean, or the ways that one idea can be so differently expressed through emphasis and omition. In the future, it might be useful to re-read and photocopy this entire chapter. :)

Anyway, on 174, he's talking about how the whole space gets darker with fake lightning and rainstorm sounds ("it's how a thunderstorm would be if nature were managed by Cirque de Soleil") . . . which sounds cool, and then goes on to describe "small diorama chambers built into the walls" that he describes as "historical chapters" . . . I like this idea of building them into the walls. He also relates how there is a portion of the exhibit that is repeated later in the museum, and that the first time it is just a collection of odd things, but later it is presented with context and explanation. So this idea of introducing something and repeating it later. I like it.

He discusses the organization -- starting with the "oceanic environment of level 1" he describes all kinds of floating fish and cetaceans. He says it starts with this open-water thing, so they are all suspended from the ceiling with nothing below but open ocean. And then it moves into shallower water, etc. and eventually opens up onto this plain of mammals. He then talks about the way that space is used to convey information "For example, in the display windows of the abyssal zone, the specimens are placed very far apart from each other. These relatively sparse cabinets (almost empty) are visual representations of the rarity of life in these regions." 176 and describes this as a non-discursive format. Good point.

He contrasts all of this with the New York American Musuem of Natural History and it's emphasis on taxonomy. "it wants its patrons to appreciate the order of nature." But, unlike some exhibits which are arranged temporally, this one is arranged by primitive animals and more complex ones, which does not mean that it goes from extinct to living. For instance, contemporary sharks are right at the beginning, because they are primitive animals event hough they are still alive. So it's a "primitive to advanced" organization. He says this has to do with the cladistic approach to taxonomy, which I do not fully understand even though I spends a fair bit of time discussing it. (This is actually the most rigorous part of the book, I think --this chapter--which I think is part of why its good. I complained about the beginning being too dependent on trying to make an interesting narrative, but this part is actually really intellectually intriguing).

He explains how and evolutionary taxonomy is different from other "artificial" taxonomies because you aren't grouping things by certain priviledged characteristics, you are grouping by picking out "temporally and spatially extended individuals." 186 "Reconstructing a historical narrative is not entirely objective, but such a narrative does not try to group events together because they have outwardly similar features. It groups them together because earlier ones gave rise to specific later ones. . . " He says that people try to claim that evolutionary taxonomy is the same as other arbitrary designations, but he thinks it isn't. (contrasts it as geneological vs. other internally consistent systems.)

". . . scientists are not, and have never been, theory-free spectators; they can't be, because without expectations or background beliefs or assumptions, every one of their sensory experiences would be equally significant--which means that the experiences would be equally insignificant." 189

190 "Relativism is an inflammatory word, and scientists get nervous around it because it is often used as a synonym for "fabricated truths" or "subjective ideology." Some humanities scholars have chosen to reconceptualize the sciences (and their findings) from the uncontrained perspective of literary criticism. Everything is a text. Everything is political." this sounds familiar to me. Further, though, "If we can move beyond this draconian version of relativism (and for the still-bristling scientific community, this will probably take awhile), we can actually see a deeper strata of healthy relativism. He describes how many taxonomists still think they are making maps of reality, but they acknowledge that different mappings can be accurate (so there are really lots of different taxonomies that end up being useful for different kinds of studies).

He points out an interesting backstory about Darwin and how he is so highlighted in the London exhibit but barely mentioned in the French one. He illuminates this to be more than just a matter of national pride, to explain that it goes to a debate on natural selection vs. mutation as which is the more important "mechanism of transformation." The French felt that mutation was more important, and saw Darwin as merely building on already established ideas of mutation that the French had established long before. (Darwin exhibit doesn't mention any of his intellectual predecessors). Anyway, the way the French thought of it, change was possible within an individual (very quickly) rather than the long-term, slow change of natural selection. They saw natural selection as too brutal and lawless, or chaotic, and adopted a more "optimistic" idea of individual response. So they highlight mutation rather than environmental effects. Interesting (and interesting in the way that this kind of relates to the whole fundamental attribution error. :) I think anyway . . . ) 199

209 - talks about distaste for randomness. Scientific dislike of randomness is "everything happens from a cause" ("events are not un-caused") and a moral dislike of randomness says "everything happens for a reason" . . . which is interesting. But I also like that maybe the idea of randomness is a good way to invert or subvert the traditional means of museum display or scientific perspective?

210 He traces the resistance to evolution back to this fear of being like animals, being "mere" animals, and he says that this fear goes back to Plato. "If we are just material creatures, without a spiritual infusion, are we free?"

211 More on why Pope JPII was weirdly progressive: "In the late 1900's, a few years after he apologized to Galileo, Pope John Paul II delivered a written message . . . stating that the Catholic Church formally recognizes the truth of evolutionary theory." There are, I'm sure, nuances to this, or provisions. But there you go.

Here is something amazing. There is a "humorous interactive display" in the Field Museum (or was anyway) in the "life Over Time" exhibit called "Happy Birthday Homo sapiens in which you can place your head in a hole in a wall and find that you are looking into a big mirror with a reflection of a mural of a bunch of apes and pre-humans with cake and a table. I LOVE THIS. I could also build something that you look in that way . . . Hmmm.

"The upshot of all this is that I end up playing an editorial role, always starting with way too much content and editing down and editing down and editing down and seeing what's left. Someday I'd like to do an exhibit where you start with some basic ideas and basic rules, and then you build that to the appropriate level starting from nothing, more or less. Rather than starting with everything and editing down, I'd like to build up from basically where visitors are starting, which is with some very basic ideas that they might remember from school and newspapers and TV." Eric Gyllenthal from the Field Museum, interviewed by the author. This sounds like an interesting idea. 230

Also, I should say that all the description of the way exhibits are designed and put together -- this team activity of working on a project to convey information to people -- sound unbelievably fun, and I suspect that I might be happy being an exhibit designer.

In talking about museums, he says ". . . there has been a continuous dialog between image-making activities and knowledge-producing activities. Unlike texts, natural history museums are inherently aesthetic representations of science in particular and conceptual ideas in general. . . one begins to see that a display's potential for education and transformation is largely a function of its artistic, non-discursive character." 240

Francis Bacon apparently described art as "feigned knowledge" which is fascinating. In my case, it might be true. But it is also an alternative way of knowing.

A story that might be interesting to look at in the future is Jan Van Rymsdyk, who illustrated all kinds of things alongside the Hunter Brothers, but whose "life and death are shrouded in mystery" . . . .

Illustrated one book called "The Natural History of Teeth" which is just great. Isn't it? . . . he also wrote (or maybe his dad did?) a book that they called a "museum on paper" that was unapologetically random. Here is a page of "exhibits" composed as tables:
"A brass spear-head from scotland . . . arrow heads, another with 15 different ova or eggs, "table VI contains, among other things, a spanish dagger" another "different spider nests", another "a brick from the tower of babel" another "illustrates all manner of gambling dice" and another "Lachrymatories, or tear vials, to contain the tears of weeping friends, and which are buried with the dead." 231 This has the charm of the old Chinese encyclopedia, or maybe even the Cress taxidermy museum.

He talks about how museums are extremely associational -- that, "perceiving a causal connection between things is really just acknowledging the most routine of impressions. So, according to Hume, the very best of human knowledge (science, as an example) and the very worst of human knowledge (prejudice) originate from fundamentally the same process." 258 I thought that was a really interesting and compelling sentence.

263 - gives some examples of humor used to appeal to modern, critical and ironic audiences, including one that shows a tiny person and says "homo sapiens : model (not actual size)" :)

Finally, a couple of books he recommends at the end that I might want to read: Museums and the Shaping of Knowledge, the Poetics and Politics of Museum Display, Museums, Objects, and Collections: A cultural study, and Objects of Knowledge

Monday, December 20, 2010

On The Postmodern Animal, by Steve Baker

DOUBLE TIME! 2x's the Steve Baker!

(I've been reading both "The Postmodern Animal" and "Picturing the Beast" more or less at the same time.)

Here are some notes.

32 - he mentions how, in the "'postmodern' form of the novel (in which lists constantly fracture the narrative, and jokiness is more acceptable than seriousness" (which has something to do with something else he is saying, but is another example of people taking for granted something which I hadn't really noticed or identified for myself yet but which seems deeply true . . . about DWF and Dave Eggers and the like, who must very much be postmodernist novelists. I have much to learn. Also, makes me want to try doing things like that with writing, if only so that I can work through the phases of 15 years ago so that I can make something else now. :) At any rate, even if I never write anything ever, the idea of "fracturing narrative" with lists or breaks in the content would definitely be a useful strategy for me as well. If I made a narrative first, that is.

40 He talks about Csikszentmihalyi and then moves into the idea of the expert, and identifies how, in the postmodern world, its more favorable to the inventor rather than the expert (the continual dilletante? I wonder?) he uses the distinction between philosopher and expert . . . because there is "no creativity" in being the expert. It is not about knowing things, it's about finding out things, it's about creating a temporary break with order, breaking the rules, ignoring the "contract" and "seeing what follows from that." Which is certainly true of the kind of direction that we are encouraged to go in our art-making. Baker says this is the attitude of the postmodern artist. (This whole discussion of course surrounds where the animal fits into this, and I think he points out that the animal is in the position of the philosopher, by not knowing . . .) I think this is interesting in terms of my interest in knowing itself . . . in wanting to know, in wanting there to be experts and people who know, and then trying to resist this desire for things to be decided and to stop having to incessantly question. This un-decision, suspension of conclusion, which is pervasive in my life, doesn't seem to result in quite the kind of thinking that produces postmodern art in this way, but . . . it does seem that the more I learn about this kind of stuff, the more I realize how neatly I fit as a product of my cultural upbringing. Hmmm.

50 - 51 He talks about how the postmodern animal is most productively "thought of as embodied, and that this embodiment is felt in an encounter with them, so that it's most directly felt when the "confrontation" is "staged" in the work and it can actually happen between the person and the animal . . . so he goes on to say that visual arts have an advantage in staging this kind of confrontation over text, and that sculpture, installation, etc. are (3D work) an "edge" over painting, photos, etc. He admits that this sounds too prescriptive and that there are of course very "postmodern" encounters with animals in other work, but this does serve to explain a little why my professor said "I really can't think of any artists doing paintings or drawings of animals" in a significant way, and that "you are going to need to look at installation and sculpture."

This makes me think more about the way space is manipulated, or how to create an encounter (which I suppose happens in a painting, but not really since it's not "embodied" in that way.)

54 He talks about why straightforward, untroubling, pretty images of animals don't fit into the idea of the postmodern animal: "Why? Because the look of the postmodern animal--no surprises here--seems more likely to be that of a fractured, awkward, 'wrong' or wronged thing, which it is hard not to read as a means of addressing what it is to be human now." He says that another author describes the experience of people in the West from the 60's to 90's as "fragmentation" -- I think I am starting to be engaged with this in terms of breaking these images up into other things, and with the kinds of disjointed writing etc. It also seems a little too easy to put things together in a "purposefully" fragmented or unresolved way :) Anyway, "the postmodern animal appears as an image of difference, an images of thinking difficultly, and differently." and he talks about the heavy use of "botched taxidermy" as an example.

73 Later, another quote about botched taxidermy:
". . . as a whole, they might be said neither to be like what viewers do know nor to be like what they do not know about animals. To borrow a term from Derrida (a term he in fact applied to humans), these pieces might be called 'questioning entities.' In a field of many competing forms of knowledge and expertise--zoological, historical, anthropological, taxidermic, and more--these works are perhaps most usefully regarded as improvised knowledges, inexpert knowledges of the animal."

75 Even later, he describes the botched taxidermy as an "attempt to think a new thing" which, even out of context, I really like as a phrase.

93 He brings up Heidegger's discussion about "what is the world" from the 1920's in order to talk about it's attempt to "think non-hierarchically about the relation of humans and animals" . . . which I think sounds hierarchical, but I guess the eventual argument insists that it is not, but anyway, it's the delineation of groups as: "1. The stone is worldless. 2. The animal is poor in the world. 3. Man is world-forming." Anyway, I won't pretend to understand all that these three "theses" signify and the whole world of Derrida and other's use of this idea . . . but I do like these phrases as very poetic ones. And especially the idea that "man is world-forming" because I think this idea of the creative act (and I admit my clear bias in saying this) may be one of the enduring distinctions between humans and animals? And yes, I know, I keep talking about how our need to distinguish ourselves from animals is almost a pathology and probably something we should avoid and I continue to do it myself. Irony noted.

113 He quotes . . I don't even know . . . he might just be using quotes to signify that it's a casual phrase . . . but he says "You don't know . . . so experiment." talking about how the position of the artist or philosopher is allied with the animal in experimentation, trying things out, etc. I was kind of thrilled when I read that, though, because even though its such a simple set of words, it calls up this whole issue of KNOWING and wanting to know, and offers the sort of liberating: You don't know. With a solution for that.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

On Radiolab: Words

These people are amazing. How do they always come up with just the kinds of things I want to hear?

They had a section that I think relates to theory of mind (the same kind of test they use to demonstrate theory of mind in kids, actually) which is really interesting in that it extends the relationship of language to theory of mind and development.

Basically, they had a whole bunch of deaf kids in Columbia (CHECK ON THAT) who never learned language and then one day got sent to a brand-new special-needs type school. With 50 deaf kids together, they began to develop their own set of gestures in order to communicate. Years go by, and some of the early students have graduated while new crops of younger kids have arrived, with more and more sophisticated and complex ways of communicating. They decide to do a test, and show both groups of students a cartoon in which a little boy and his older brother are playing with a train. The older brother goes to get a snack and puts the train under the bed, telling his little brother not to touch it. The little brother, of course, hides the train in the toybox. They ask the groups - when the older brother comes back, where will he look for the train? Any child over the age of 5 will say "under the bed" because that's where he would think it was. But children below age 5 think that because they know the train is in the toybox, somehow the older brother does too. And amazingly, the older deaf students (keep in mind, these people are in their late 20's or 30's) say the same thing "He'll look in the toybox." The researchers posit that this has something to do with their lack of language to describe inner mental states-- that the younger kids, who have like 12 different words for thinking, are more poised to consider the inner thoughts of the brother than the student's whose vocabulary limits them to less invisible things. So they are essentially saying that they think the language ITSELF allows for development of "theory of mind" and without it, that kind of understanding does not develop. !! That's kind of amazing!

[ random quote about this phenomena from http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=112524209:
"Dogs and babies both make the same famous mistake (babies at 10 mo.) involving trusting a human about the location of a toy when they have seen it moved somewhere else." ]

"everything has a name" - the guy who, until 27, had no concept of language, because he was deaf, . . . and this woman taught him sign language by modeling teaching and learning behavior through pretending to teach to an invisible student, and then pretending to BE the invislbe studnet. (SO much like the way they taught Alex!) and finally, she said it was as though he had just landed on earth, and he looked around the room, and clearly understood, and pointed at things so she would tell him their name (sign) . . . and then he started to cry. "OH! Everything has a name!" she said.

second thing is the story of the rats -- "left of the blue wall" story, where the rats, placed in an all-white rectangular room, shown food in a corner, then picked up and spun around, food hidden under the ground in one corner (digging?) and then left to figure out where the food is (right 50% of the time) . .. paint one wall blue, still only right 50% of them tiem. they can see color, so what's going on? babies up until the age of 6 !! behave the same way. one idea is that it is language - specifically spatial language -- that allows for the connection between "left" and "blue wall" to create "left OF the blue wall" and allow them to behave as any adult would -- to find the buried treat. so this owman says that though language is olften talked aobut in terms of how it allows us to communicate to other beings, it also might be an extremely powerful way of communicating WITHIN OUR OWN SYSTEM -- communicating to ourselves. AHH.

then they talk about knocking out language (by making peole repeat back things over and over and over again listening to an ipod, and doing the same experiment) and when you repeat back things that someone else is saying, you can't use that language for yourself, and so they return to the 50% accuracy again.

what if you tried to renenact these things, made people dispell their use of language, to know how much it creates who we are?

OK. so there are these cartoons shown to the deaf commuinity in Venezueal? DANG. the one of this man trying to fly and then failing - and how they all describe his flying different (the early-learners -- old student) use a LOT of movement to describe what happens while the younger speakers motion is all in the wrist - they use the ideas like "he wants to fly, but he fails" or "he is trying to fly", etc.

CAN I USE TRANSCRIPTS FROM THOSE TO SHOW DIFFERENCES in how language creats different kinds of thinking? on my bird drawings perhaps? :) or can i do something with these cartoons, make movies, desciibe them, etc. ?? hmm.