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Disney Pinocchio

The Adventures of Pinocchio is a classic, right? Disney put the marionette on the big screen in 1940 and Jiminy Cricket became an overnight success. But the real story is from Italy, Tuscany, to be exact. It symbolically represents Italy, as it grew into a unified country.

So we decided to read the book, first penned by Carlo Collodi in 1883—in its original language, as they say—Italian. Little did we know that our simple decision would be such a task. We decided to read one chapter a day. Pretty good, right? Well, no, when you consider that the average chapter is only about 5 pages long, and that includes pictures!

Our Pinocchio kit

Here’s our routine: we have an English version that we keep handy to check our translations; we have an Italian version in which Emerson writes copious notes (definitions, idiomatic phrases, verb forms etc.); I also have the original Italian version on an iPad; together, we use 2 dictionaries and one verb book; and finally, we access a translator online called, My Translator. Once we have our pile of books, pencils, erasers and various accoutrements, we begin just after lunch each day with a strong sense of anticipation and determination..

Pinocchio fully notated

Emerson reads the chapter title, for example, Pinocchio è derubato delle sue monete d’oro e, per gastigo, si busca quattro mesi di prigione. Translation: Pinocchio is robbed of his coins of gold and, for punishment, is put in prison for four months. Now, we think this is more than a regular title. A title is something like, “A Day at the Beach.” You know, there’s some over-arching topic that captures the essence and your attention. But the Pinocchio chapter titles are spoilers. They tell you what happens BEFORE you read it. Then Collodi goes into all the details of how the chain of events took place, but you already know the poor marionette is going to prison.

In the pokey

The other thing about the title is that we look up nearly every word. For example, Derubato. Oh, it’s a verb and this is the past tense. Okay. Monete. Oh, coins. D’oro. This is a common contraction. The word di means of. When it’s placed before a word that begins with a vowel, you leave out the i because, heaven forbid you put two vowels together! Okay, got it. Di oro = d’oro = of gold. Well, you get the picture. Every chapter is a language lesson as well as a lesson in logic. Why would Pinocchio go to prison? He was robbed. Well, the logic here is that if you’re foolish enough to be duped, you deserve punishment. Really?!

Actually, the Italian culture and thought process is something quite unique. The stories they concoct and the way they choose to say it, are nothing short of original art—funny and entertaining, yet thought-provoking at the same time.

Taccini ceramic

When we first discovered that Pinocchio is Italian, we went to a town west of Florence called Montelupo (which means wolf mountain), where an artist named Eugenio Taccini lives and works creating unique ceramic pieces. He’s well known for his depictions of Pinocchio. In fact, he actually made pieces of artwork for each of the chapters, exploring their deep psychological meanings. It became a form of therapy for him as he dove into the hidden messages. As an Italian, he wanted to use the original story to explore the process of change and transformation. Beneath the external beauty of Italian life, love and laughter, there are many deep thinkers pondering something profound and meaningful.

Pinocchio’s home town

Then we decided to make a trip to Collodi, the town where young Carlo Lorenzini spent summers and from which he took his pen name. Collodi is now known as the town of Pinocchio. There are restaurants named for those in the book. There’s an amusement park for children with all things Pinocchio. But in addition, there’s an amazing hillside baroque park called Garzoni Gardens. It’s considered one of the most beautiful gardens in all of Italy. It’s another example of the paradox that underlies Italian thinking: the whimsical, childlike attitude juxtaposed with the heady formal, compelling, meticulously planned.

So we’re on chapter 21 in the book. My bookmark only jumps a few pages a day. But, for the first time, I’m beginning to understand Pinocchio on multiple levels. As you might expect, the original is much more earthy than the Disney version. He’s more real. And that’s just the wood marionette. I can hardly wait to see how the world changes when seen through the eyes of a real boy.

First posted on October 1, 2011

Related Story

Reading the Yogurt Cups: Pinocchio is perhaps one of the earliest “Psychological Thrillers” ever. No story is any more psychologically rooted than that classic. This other story about yogurt cups is much more straightforward, but holds its own human potential

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Welcome!

The Musical Stories can also be found in the Main Menu under “Music.” However, on occasion one may be highlighted in a post like this to align with a season, holiday, current related topic or just for fun. You can go directly to the post by clicking below—so relax, read along, listen-in.
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Family Ties

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Henri in his studio

His full name is Henri Marie Raymond de Toulouse-Lautrec-Montfa, but most of us know him simply as Toulouse-Lautrec. He was an artist known for his renditions of the life he lived and observed, as well as for his diminutive stature. Due to a genetic weakness that rendered his bones brittle and vulnerable, he unfortunately broke both legs when he was a young boy. The result was a disturbing stunted appearance. Ever self-conscious about his physical imperfections, he found himself most at home with common people who had their own obvious flaws. He was especially drawn to the fascinating theatrical lifestyle of Paris in the late 19th century, even though, as his hyphenated name suggests, his family had deep aristocratic roots.

Playful self portrait

Toulouse-Lautrec became a famed artist, printmaker, master caricaturist, draughtsman and illustrator during his short life (1864 to 1901). He was also a gourmet food lover who invited his guests to dine with him via formal, artistic invitations. He even described the anticipated menu and commented that a meal was very similar to any other artistic expression—full of color, in both the foods and the guests. Meals and people were meant to be savored and shared. He often directed conversation to inspire lively exchanges.

Can-can dancers

Lautrec’s many associations in the vibrant milieu of Paris’ Montmartre district allowed him simultaneous front row and backstage views of that world of wonderfully “imperfect people,” like him. He was deeply immersed in the imagery of decadence—empathizing with the every-day plight of the working-class characters swirling around him, performing in the theaters. The famous Moulin Rouge (Red Mill) drew boisterous crowds, Lautrec interpreted them to be willing subjects, part of the “show.” The frenetic energy of the “can-can” invigorated the audience. Brothels of the area added to the attitude of decadence and pleasure. Lautrec enjoyed all of it, leaving a colorful, artistic “journal” for us to understand and appreciate his contribution to a rapidly evolving world of art. Although Lautrec enjoyed success and notoriety while he lived, he was destined to succumb to his circumstances and choices. An illness abruptly ended his life when he was merely 37 years old.

Ospedale

We think Toulouse-Lautrec would have found this exhibit to be the perfect expression of his artistic flair, since it was such a unique presentation. The historic corridors of the space were transformed into Parisian passageways that transported us back in time. Anchoring one side of the Piazza Santissima Annunziata, the beautiful Renaissance “Ospedale degli Innocenti” was the perfect choice for the exhibition. The 1419 architectural masterpiece was conceived by Fillipo Brunelleschi as a Children’s Hospital and Orphanage to support and care for the children abandoned during the Florentine Renaissance. (Brunelleschi also designed the famous dome of Florence’s grand cathedral—il Duomo.) The contrast of the exquisite historical building with Lautrec’s avant-garde style accentuated both.

Seeing 19th century art with 21st century eyes has become “normal,” yet to have that experience in a 600 year old architectural gem seems almost miraculous.

Stock Photo

Coming back outside into the brilliant Florentine sunshine, after having spent a 90 minute immersion into the late 19th century underbelly of Parisian cabaret life was a bit shocking and overwhelming. We had just glimpsed inside the life and mind of one of the world’s most influential artists of the late 1800s.

Following is a video of a “passageway experience” within the exhibit, along with a few amateur snapshots of his masterful work. Notice how accurately he captured the essence of a complex personality with a single, delicate line of the face, the audacious glint of an eye, or the subtle slant of an expressive black hat—absolutely fantastic!

Passageway Video

Cabaret Video

Gallery

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On a backroad between Borgo San Lorenzo and the small town of Polcanto, in Tuscany, just north of Florence, an unknown artist has taken an open, sunny patch of meadow and created an outdoor exhibit, a seemingly permanent Art Gallery of sorts. Each unique piece is weathered and worn, allowing the natural patina to be the final artistic touch. The exhibit appears to be a dynamic, additive process, with some pieces showing more age and weathering mirroring the passage of time (perhaps years), while others seemed like more recent additions.

Two of the sculptures were quite detailed and complex, using a very modern-day material, Corten steel (a special alloy that forms a stable external layer of rust). The large heart-shaped steel plates were incised with the first stanza of the Rumi poem: Ode 314—which offers commentary on our choice of living our lives “asleep” or “awakened.” He suggests that life is to be lived with intention and reflection. Without judgment, he suggests that the alternative is simply sleep. He even advises against disturbing this sleep. It’s sort of a live and let live perspective. Perhaps he’s posing the question of readiness. But clearly his choice is to take the way of intention. The first stanza is shown below.

In stark contrast, another sculptural piece is in the form of a collage. Another, is a fluttering collection of random neck ties, suspended from the branches of an oak tree. Do the ties relate to the steel heart? Or to the other pieces? Are these expressions from the same artist, or is this an open invitation to anyone who feels inspired? Either way, it is compelling enough to warrant a closer look from any passersby, either on foot or enjoying a peaceful drive on a typical Tuscan side road.

Signature?

We found what could be an artist’s name in only one location, but couldn’t verify it. So, this “pop-up gallery” appeared to be a relatively anonymous gift offered freely without recognition or reward. All we know about the prolific creator(s) is the number 46 adjacent to a gravel drive that disappears down the hillside. We wonder what lies at the end of that ordinary country drive. One day, we might take a walk down that meandering road to see what’s at the other end. If we discover more to this story we’ll definitely let you know.

Side Note: A few days before discovering this Roadside Gallery, we visited the Palazzo Strozzi exhibit in Florence, viewing the collected work of Fra Angelico—what a fascinating contrast to the Roadside Exhibit.
To read that story, go to Perspectives: Immersion Into Religion Through Art.


Gallery of Roadside Art

Broken Heart of Rusted Steel (Right Side – Poem by Rumi)

Ode 314 (First Stanza)
Those who don’t feel this Love
pulling them like a river,
those who don’t drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don’t want to change,  
let them sleep.  

Broken Heart of Rusted Steel (Left Side – author unknown)
The last stanza – translated from the original Italian version:

Imagine utopia
Dream of Ithaca and hope the road you choose is long
Live in the moment, the emotion, the desire
Now.

 

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Palazzo Strozzi

We went to an exhibit at the Palazzo Strozzi in Florence, which is an incredible experience, even without an exhibition. Fortunately, the Palazzo was the site chosen for a once-in-a-lifetime collection of paintings from around the world by the Renaissance artist Beato Angelico. He was also known as Fra Angelico (Dominican Friar 1395-1455) prior to being canonized by the Catholic Church. He is now acclaimed as one of the greatest artists in all of Italy—ever! That’s a significant statement.

The exhibit was truly amazing. Ever loyal to his faith, Fra Angelico was a painter, sculptor, and creator of Illuminated Manuscripts (texts decorated for the reader’s enlightenment or illumination). He expressed his religious awe through a unique ability to render his subjects nearly translucent. The luminosity of the skin tones and his use of color is absolutely magical. The addition of gold leaf to highlight the halos of the saintly religious figures, as well as the intricate attention to detailing is quite mind boggling.

There are, of course, many fierce competitors in the Italian lineage of great artists like: Michelangelo, Botticelli, Giotto, Leonardo da Vince and Caravaggio, just to name a few. But after the exhibit, we had to agree that Fra Angelico’s art and impeccable character seemed inseparable and incomparable. If you ever get the chance to experience his artistic gifts to the world, seize the opportunity.

A few days after the Strozzi exhibit, we were in the countryside just north of Florence and happened upon a different artist’s work in a very different “Gallery.” The contrast with the Fra Angelico exhibit was remarkable and quite thought-provoking. Watch for another story coming soon—part 2 of Perspectives: Free Spirit and Free Form.

Related Music

You might also enjoy some music written about the Spiritual Quest and how the deep, personal changes find their way into Each Cell of our Being. We imagine the young Fra Angelico moving quietly through stone arches, meditating as he struggles with a longing to serve as both loyal friar to the religious order, while accomplishing his patrons’ requests for commissions. With his art, Fra Angelico elevated his patrons’ status, while making his unique way through a humble monastic life.

Each Cell

You can also find the original story and video that accompanied the song called Each Cell, from 2005, as we visited the beautiful Italian Monestery of Madonna del Sasso in Tuscany.

Credits (Each Cell Music)

From Where I Need to Be, track released June, 2005
Cheryl Martlage – Lyrics and vocals
Emerson Martlage – Music, guitar and vocals
Tom Tomasello – Producer/Arranger
Jim Bruno – Vocal producer
Mr Toad’s San Francisco – Mastering
Inspiration – The kind Monk from Madonna del Sasso

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New and fast friends

“How did you two meet?”

This is an age-old question, often used to jump-start a conversation.

“We met in a class, freshman year at college.”

“We met online, in a dating website.”

“We met through mutual friends.”

“We were “fixed up” by a well-meaning friend who knew someone seemingly “perfect” for me. 

“We sat down on opposite ends of a sofa at a party and just started talking.”

“We literally bumped into one another at a concert.”

“We met at a coffee shop one morning, standing in line.”

“We both took our dogs to the park one day and they wanted to greet each other”

However the first encounter happened, it’s still something of a miracle given all the random possibilities. The fact that two people meet and really connect with one another is an amazing phenomenon. We were reminded of that recently when a friend “clicked” with someone, seemingly out-of-the-blue and they’ve been inseparable since.

Keys to a heart

He swiped right, She swiped right. They met for tea. Then they met for lunch. Then dinner. Once the “interest seed” was planted, the relationship blossomed. They discovered common values, preferences and humor. It rapidly went from being a possibility to being “something.” They’d each hoped to find a “significant other” and cautiously began an earnest search—romantic details as well as practical considerations were clearly in mind. She wanted X characteristics and he wanted Y. Each was determined to find a kindred heart to unlock.

Hidden treasure

Each was primed and felt determined to find the exact person who would match their descriptions. What were the chances? 50/50? Daunting? One in a million? Our friends took a deep dive into the proverbial haystack and re-emerged with a prize—the ever-elusive needle. Sometimes fate steps in and treasures can be found. Dreams can become reality and love grows, however unlikely it may seem.

Don’t you just love happy endings?

Music—Meant to Be

Related Music and Story—The First Time We Met

You can also find a collection of songs/stories about soulful relationships written over several decades of an evolving partnership, in the album called “Love Stories.”

 

 

 

 

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Laurie on Stage

More than a decade has passed. We find ourselves drawn once again to this “delusional” bedtime story, woven by the master storyteller, Laurie Anderson.

On a Saturday night 12 years ago, we witnessed a spectacular performance. At the EX3 Theater of Contemporary Arts across the Arno River in Florence Italy, Laurie Anderson mesmerized the audience with a one-woman show. An incredibly creative and energetic performing artist, singer, musician, inventor and philosopher, she did not disappoint! “Normal” instruments weren’t enough to express her dream-state thoughts and feelings. So, she invented one: an electronic violin that uses special magnetic tape on the bow instead of horsehair and space-age pick-ups that make the violin wail like a wild cat. Laurie’s philosophy is expressed weaving diverse fragments of life into a political-personal-psychological-fairy tale performance. Her style is unique and we’ve never experienced anything quite like it.

Florence/Firenze

Following is the excerpt from a local newspaper, “The Florentine,” November 2010, which described her anticipated performance: “Delusion” is an eclectic multimedia show that brings together various forms of media, including video, music, monologues, and electronic puppets and violins. The show, which made its premier last February at the Vancouver Olympic Games, is conceived as a series of short mystery plays featuring elves and golems, nuns and dead relatives, fantastical unmanned ships and dark, scary forests. Through a series of altered voices and imaginary guests, Laurie Anderson’s colourful and poetic language in “Delusion” is a reflection on words and things, life and language. “Delusion,” a story of longing, memory and identity, makes its Italian premier in Florence, as part of Ex3’s New Musical Events.

Art Like Great Wine?

She has described her art as “of the moment,” and says that it doesn’t really keep well over time. While her many videos create a chronicle of her performances throughout the years, they don’t quite tell a full story.

We arrived early, as usual, to claim third row seats. From 8:30 pm, when the doors opened, people slowly wandered into the theater. In true Italian style, they chatted in the aisles, gesturing to animate their conversations. The l’ora accademia, (the academic hour) prevailed, which is customary in Italy. Performances and lectures begin a fashionable 15 minutes later than scheduled. At 9:30 pm the theater lights flickered to indicate the beginning of the show. Some obstinate folks continued to linger, ultimately fumbling their way to their seats in the dark.

Stage screen

A full-projection screen covered the back part of the stage, while two smaller screens flanked each side, strategically angled.  The 10 x 10 screen to the left resembled a giant blank hallmark card. The other flanking screen to the right appeared to be a security fence hidden beneath a white nubby tablecloth, casually  thrown over it at the last minute. A keyboard stood just right of center with Laurie’s strange electronic violin hanging precariously on a side hook. Then front and center, was a loosely covered sofa of sorts—the form looked a bit like spontaneously draped Halloween wax lips. Finally, completing the scene was a small platform toward the back of the stage.

The show began a full hour before Laurie appeared onstage, with a projector casting black and white oscillating pop-art images onto the couch—like a lava lamp without the liquid. It was undulating, almost nauseating. Despite having motion sickness, we were intrigued. Laurie finally emerged from the shadows wearing an untucked crisp white shirt, an artsy tie (loosely knotted under the collar), and black knit capris. As a final touch, she wore the cutest little sparkling Mary-Jane shoes with translucent soles.

Laurie’s violin

Laurie quietly floated her way to the keyboard. With a dreamy look on her face, she began playing several repeated chords while talking—and so the narrative unfolded. For 90 minutes, she wove stories, reading from her computer screen or paper notes, delicately pressing buttons on floor controls with her feet, while frequently launching into musical tirades with her vio-lectro-lin. With the latest technology, she made the sound of her voice alternate between ethereal, almost angelic and Darth Vader-like menacing tones. Several times she sang—her voice sounding like a strange other-worldy visitation. As she spoke, sang, read or played music, there were thousands of wild images flashing onto the 3 screens: scribbles on chalkboards, rain, blowing leaves, and other random dream-scapes.

Overall, it was an amazing, wonderfully thought-provoking evening. She was flawless and nothing short of masterful. With all the diverse ideas presented, as well as the sensory bombardment, we were exhausted by the end of performance. On the drive home, we wondered, “What does it all mean?” It was a performance that needed some mulling over. The pondering continues to this day—perhaps for the rest of our lives.?

We agree that her art is especially tasty “in the moment,” but find her message actually ages quite well—timeless, like a fine wine, better with every passing year.

What an incredible bedtime story!

Credits

Feature image above: courtesy of sfjazz.org
Video courtesy of YouTube
Cover of the Florentine courtesy of theflorentine.net
Laurie’s violin photo courtesy of Derrick Belcham
Story courtesy of our long-term memories

Related Music

“Nighty-Night Rosie June”—Another kind of bedtime story designed to take you into peaceful slumber rather than calling forth your most complex nighttime illusions/delusions:

 

 

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Not so steady

We circled the flickering campfire as the balmy day gave way to a cool evening breeze. Quietly inspired by the massive peaks standing watch over the rugged southern California landscape, a momentary hush fell upon us. The day’s end encouraged reflection. Clearly this was a Kumbaya moment, with the expectation of guitar accompaniment. Our daughter scanned the scene and then asked her dad if he brought his guitar. “Nope,” came the matter-of-fact reply. “Why not?” she asked, disappointed. Em searched for the right words, “Because my hands aren’t as steady as they used to be. In fact, I don’t really play just for enjoyment anymore.” Iris’ tone softened, “I didn’t know that.” 

Just a dusty memory

Even without songs around the campfire, our adventure was still a delight as we made some sweet memories together. But, that lingering fireside question about the guitar triggered some reflective moments the following day on the drive home. For the past 50 years, we’ve written music and sung together, accompanied by a guitar—always a guitar. We were college-age during the folk music years and imagined that we’d just continue in that mode. The simple question during the camp-out prompted conversation that uncovered a looming realization that our musical form of self-expression is limited. At 71 years of age, we expect a dimming spotlight on our favorite pastime. Perhaps only a certain number of songs remain to be written—20, 15, single digits?

Life certainly has its earthly limits. We’re painfully aware of the ever-diminishing natural resources in the world around us. As much as we try to stay focused on abundance, there’s a subtle ever present thought that scarcity does exist. Everything eventually gives-way to the ages. So, the realization of personal limitations is not really a big surprise. 

For us, abundance and scarcity show-up together. Everything is defined by its opposite. Rather than deny the negative aspects, why not look for their value? How can we accept and even find peace with something that we interpret as negative? Acceptance, integration and transition are steps needed to embrace the whole. Maybe pesky tremors can actually point the way to new and surprising possibilities. 

Our path, for now

Our conclusion: We’ll continue walking our current path with whatever brings us joy for as long as we can. Then, one day an urge will cause us to shift. Maybe we’ll find ourselves being nudged closer to the next dream as Em’s once-steady hands lay down the guitar. That moment will be our pivot-point, when we turn from that which we love and have loved, to something new—perhaps even better. The essence of those curious inflection points in life is captured beautifully in the following poem, “Snowbanks North of the House,” by Robert Bly—from his collection called The Man In The Black Coat Turns:

The mystery of “Why?” remains, quietly hidden in the “When?” We remind each other to “just be nimble.”

Snowbanks North of the House

Those great sweeps of snow that stop suddenly six
feet from the house …
Thoughts that go so far.
The boy gets out of high school and reads no more
books;
the son stops calling home.
The mother puts down her rolling pin and makes no
more bread.
And the wife looks at her husband one night at a
party, and loves him no more.
The energy leaves the wine, and the minister falls
leaving the church.
It will not come closer
the one inside moves back, and the hands touch
nothing, and are safe.
 
The father grieves for his son, and will not leave the
room where the coffin stands.
He turns away from his wife, and she sleeps alone.
 
And the sea lifts and falls all night, the moon goes on
through the unattached heavens alone.
 
The toe of the shoe pivots
in the dust …
And the man in the black coat turns, and goes back
down the hill.
No one knows why he came, or why he turned away,
and did not climb the hill.


Credits

Title inspiration:  “Jack Be Nimble,” the 1800s rhyme from England. Good luck was ascribed to those who could jump over a candle stick without dampening the flame. May we all aspire to such daring and resolve in the face of challenge!

 

Related Story and Music: Turn Around

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Parmesan cheese

The image above is readily recognizable as street graffiti. But expression can take many forms. “What is art?” you might ask. Let’s take that “what is . . . ” question in another direction. For example, “what is food?” Or, “can food be art?” Or, “when does food take a form that lends itself to interpretation?” Are these cheesy hypothetical questions? Perhaps not. For example, what is the difference between making delicious cheese like Parmesan vs processing cheese food? Let’s explore.

The original Kraft

Turning milk into cheese requires six important steps. Signature techniques have created world-famous products that have literally become art forms, yet the basic steps remain the same. Then, in 1916,  James L. Kraft patented his curious idea. Suddenly, there was a new twist to cheesemaking—American cheese appeared on the scene. Is it a new art form or is it vandalism of an age-old beautiful product? The newly created food soon came to be known as a “modern cheese product”—cheese but not cheese.

Kraft Singles

American cheese is a mild, creamy, salty concoction that is highly processed and artificially colored to achieve a shiny orange-yellow hue. To preserve its luster there needed to be a final touch—individually wrapped in plastic. Although this last step may improve shelf-life, we suppose that its true purpose is to keep the goo from melting together forming some sort of cheesy brick—no, that’s a different product: Kraft Velveeta.

As kids we ate the lower-cost substitute on our burgers, in mac-n-cheese and even as a handy snack sometimes. As adults, however, many of us kicked the pseudo-cheese habit since we have complete control of our eating choices. But, our opinion of that cheesy product took a turn yesterday, thanks to an experience with RJ, our 5-year-old granddaughter.

Where’s the cheese?

Driving RJ home after camp, she enthusiastically called out from the back seat, “Look at the American cheese!” Our response was, “What?” She repeated her request a little louder. This prompted a second response, “What in the world are you talking about?” She said, “Look, right there (pointing somewhere to the left)—American cheese.” Slowing the car, we both peered down the street, more confused than ever.

RJ was right, as usual

Cheryl said, “Oh, I thought you said, “American cheese.” RJ said, “I did say American cheese,” this time pointing slightly behind us since we had rolled a few feet farther. I turned the car around so we could see exactly what she was pointing toward. As we slowly approached the speed limit sign on the right, she said, “There it is!” I stopped the car and we honed our glances more intently. Sure enough, there on the black and white sign were pieces of American cheese randomly stuck over the 25 mph warning, as if tossed for point value like darts.

We immediately recognized the famed cheese product because of the unmistakable sun-faded color, as well as the iconic size of the squares. Evidently their sticky texture and low melting point made them ideal for quick and long-lasting adherence on a warm street sign.

Stop sign—gross!

It appeared that “suburban vandals” had attacked the entire area just nights before. Upon further inspection we found cheese squares on the stop sign, on top of the playground posts and other equipment in the park. They must have used an entire package of cheese-food on their rampage as they ran from sign to sign. But was it a violent outburst or an artistic expression?

Another option

When we were kids, we threw expensive eggs as a sticky statement of displeasure. We never imagined that we could have hurled processed cheesy orange squares instead. But, while the eggs were readily available and easy to snatch out of their carton, those squares known as “Singles,” had to be painstakingly unwrapped before they could be slapped into place or Frisbee-tossed at their targets. If the message of the “suburban vandals” was one of displeasure, the meticulous unveiling of each slice of cheese-food would certainly have quelled their rage. In addition, by opting for the Kraft Singles as their “paint,” the extra time involved could have slowed their escape—caught red-handed orange handed!

Whether the culprits use spray paint on walls or Kraft Singles on signs, the process is pretty much the same. Art or vandalism remains squarely in the eye of the beholder.

So now, for the final question: Did Mr. Kraft commit an act of artistic expression by reformulating real cheese or did he knowingly vandalize a public institution?  We cast our cheesy votes for the latter.

Related Photos

Following is a gallery of pictures we captured of roadside art in Florence Italy. The creativity is wonderful and the implementation must have been a real challenge. Hopefully you can still see what the original sign was signaling, yet discover an unexpected drive-by chuckle as well.

 

 

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Ben Day dots

In 1879, the printer/illustrator Benjamin Henry Day invented “Ben Day dots,” those ubiquitous dots that illustrate comics. This invention opened up possibilities for creative expression. Day concluded that images don’t need to be rendered in full color, but rather, could be made from thousands of tiny equal-size dots with varied spacing, color or even overlapping to create a desired effect or illusion. Creating optical illusions is a visual magic act, based on knowledge of how the eye and brain work together to fill in the blanks. The human eye picks up patterns and the brain finishes the rest.

Day’s brilliant technique has been around for nearly 150 years, and we’ve all figured out the game. Comic strips are predictably constructed of those pervasive dots. In fact, they’re so obvious that we actually anticipate them. We all know the clever trick, yet it still works like magic—dots can be interpreted as people, animals, buildings, or anything else needed to create a comic strip story-line. It’s as though we all share a secret code, a magic key to deciphering clues.

“Ohhh…Alright” detail

The Pop Artist, Roy Fox Lichtenstein, took the visual illusions to a playful and lucrative new level in 1961. His son challenged Roy to paint as realistically as one of his favorite Disney cartoons appeared. The result was Lichtenstein’s first major piece, “Look Mickey.” He had an “Aha!” moment and the resulting style became synonymous with Lichtenstein’s name. Even his exploration into dots of monumental proportions resulted in the same success—the trick worked better than ever.

Daytime “Opaque” Graphics

The city of San Diego is preparing for the upcoming “Comic-Con International” (comic book convention). The city is abuzz with anticipation. The Marriott Hotel, hosting and supporting some of the festivities, has a sweeping curved glass facade. Right before our eyes, skilled workers applied huge comic-style graphics in the form of an opaque film to “wallpaper” the glass. The transformation was dramatic as the massive window-wall suddenly appeared solid, filled with vivid imagery. However, to our surprise, in the same evening, the huge wall of graphics seemed to have been completely removed. Or, so we thought. How was that possible, and why would they go to all of that expense for just one day? Strangely enough, the next morning the graphic once again reappeared over the entire glass facade.

Nighttime transparency

We discovered that the “skin” applied to the glass isn’t really opaque. It actually has thousands of tiny holes (reverse Ben Day dots) that allow the graphic to look monolithic and solid during the day. Likewise, when the interior lights are on in the evening, the skin seems to magically disappear. The eye/brain team do the rest—always ready to fill-in gaps with the “imagined” missing bits to make it complete. It seems that we are hard-wired with a built-in bias for completion—imagining everything just as we think it should be.

Incomplete information? No problem. We just fill in the gaps and fabricate the missing parts. That message from the brain seems to be enough for us to accept the illusion, in fact we embrace it. But just because we go along with the trick doesn’t mean that what we see is real, true or even complete. Clearly we only need enough Ben Day Dots to prompt us. We then connect, complete and accept  the implied image.

It must be quite Comic-al for the Marriott folks to watch the quizzical and curiosity-filled  faces passing by the facade.

Credits

Marriott Marquis Hotel, San Diego – Graphic installation
“Ahhh . . . Alright” detail – 1964 Roy Lichtenstein
“Ben Day dots” detail MoMA
“Both Sides, Now” – Joni Mitchell – courtesy of YouTube
Featured image above – Marriott graphic screen detail

Related Music

Joni Mitchell wrote about the serious implications of life’s illusions back in 1966 with her famous song “Both Sides, Now.” Over 30 years later, she recorded the song again, but from a more mature, reflective position—a different view of life’s illusions. Her poetry speaks: “I’ve looked at love from both sides now/ From give and take and still somehow/ It’s love’s illusions I recall/ I really don’t know love at all.” You can listen to her 2000 rendition below.