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.

 

 

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.

 

 

 

“How much is that doggie in the window
The one with the waggly tail
How much is that doggie in the window
I do hope that doggie’s for sale”

Patti Page popularized the novelty song, “(How much is) That Doggie in the Window?” in 1952, when we had each achieved the magical age of 1. The answers to those questions were clear for us even as children and became underscored as the years went on. Here are the questions, followed by our answers: “How much?”—”priceless” and “For Sale?”—”not a chance.”

Doggie in a bag

If you want to have some fun, put a dog in a carry bag (preferably a small dog) and take it everywhere you go. Doing this in Italy resulted in our pooches becoming our “doggies in the window,” attracting the attention of many passers-by. We began with our dearly departed Izzy-B. Her name was Isabel, but Italians knew her as “Ee-sah-bella.” She was a real sweetheart who graciously allowed us to carry her everywhere—the grocery store, restaurants, running errands—the destination made no difference to her. She never uttered one complaint or showed a lack of enthusiasm. She seemed to bask in the attention of all the friendly folks who greeted her.

After 2 years without a doxie, we adopted her successor Sara, pronounced “Sah-dah” in Italian. We’ve had strangers scheming to sneak her into forbidden places, while others have screamed with glee as they take her little face into both hands to smooch her loudly. Most people can’t resist feeding her tiny treats they carry in their pockets, and we’ve even had her magical power give us direction and grant special favors. Following is just one silly example of the antics:

Doggie in the window

Em needed a haircut in Italy. He’d seen a barber shop in the nearby town of Caldine, just across from the local grocery store. It looked promising, so he thought he’d give it a try. One day, while Cheryl was at the market, he walked over for a trim. As usual, Sara was tucked into her carry-bag and barely visible. The barber spun around to offer Em a seat in the barber’s chair. Suddenly, he saw Sara peeking from under Em’s arm. Barber Giovanni is an avid dog lover and was fine with Em keeping Sara on his lap during the haircut—he simply let the barber’s cape drift slowly down over both of them. Another man entered the shop and Giovanni insisted on giving him a peek at Sara. He carefully lifted the hem of the cape to present a napping doggie. Everyone laughed at the silly sight. Sara glanced up momentarily and then fell back asleep.

Sara: doggie dis-covered

After the long pandemic travel drought, we finally returned to Italy some 2 years later. Although he’d had a few haircuts stateside, Em really liked Giovanni’s technique so he returned to the shop for another trim. As Em entered the barber shop, Giovanni paused over his seated customer. Holding his comb and scissors in mid-air, he greeted Em, “Hello, hello, how’s Sara?”(“Ciao, ciao, come sta Sah-dah?”) Em quickly realized that Giovanni didn’t remember his name—just Sara’s. Em replied that she was waiting in the car with Cheryl, but offered to retrieve her. When they returned, the finished customer stood to leave and Giovanni gestured for Em to be seated. Em placed Sara on his lap just like before, anticipating the same fluttering barber’s cape. Giovanni whooshed the large white bib up and out, then waited for it to settle over them. This time, to Em and Sara’s surprise, there was a new feature in the large cape. A clear window had been sewn into the front of it, seemingly custom-made for a furry friend. Sara was completely visible, giving everyone a hearty chuckle as she peered out through the plastic window (finestra di plastica), a bit puzzled and curious. It may have taken her a few extra seconds to fall asleep. Giovanni explained that the cape-windows are intended for cell phone use. However, we agreed that a dedicated dog-window is much more important and a lot more fun!

So, we return to the original question: “How much is that doggie in the (modified cape) window?”—still “priceless.” We wouldn’t trade our little fur baby for all of Italy, or the entire world for that matter! Our theory was supported yet again: some furry fun is always guaranteed when a dog is in tow.

Related Stories and Music

Puppy Love

Simone and Alessia arrived around mezzogiorno, noon the other day for lunch with us in the country. The sun was bright and the air was clear with that unmistakable fall crispness. We hadn’t seen them for over a year, so it was especially fun for us to have that time together to sit and talk . . .

Simple Pleasures

Sometimes Mondays are all about Tuesday.

What?! Are you confused? Don’t be. Tuesday is the name of our daughter’s chocolate lab. No, Iris does not work in research at Hershey headquarters in Pennsylvania. No, she didn’t adopt her sweet puppy on a Tuesday afternoon, but we do celebrate Tuesdays as double days.