Initiative, go!

Last week I met a grad student from Arkansas! She's doing public policy research in China, and interviewing lots of art galleries. She mentioned that her translator recently bailed on her, and so on a whim a few days later I shot her an e-mail offering to translation for her interviews. This way I could practice translating, get exposure to her research, ask some questions of my own, and make a friend! It worked well. She was really glad to have someone to go with (she doesn't speak any Chinese), so on Thursday we went exploring. We found a charming, isolated district hidden in the middle of the city, with grassy hills and implausibly large sculptures. We interviewed and interviewed and got into some juicy topics that I hope to use in my senior thesis, like differences between China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan on issues of art and globalization. Then we had a jolly time touring galleries (including one interior design gallery with only kitchens on display). It'll be fun to see what else we'll get ourselves into next week. It amazes me, though, how many awesome opportunities are just waiting out there to be grabbed, with an e-mail or a phone call. Initiative, go!

In other news: Will, Andi and I finally went to the fabric market, and it was as good as could be expected. I got fitted for a suit (for a nice square 50 USD!), and am having a couple of linen ties custom-made. I get to pick them up in a week. Like always, barganing was a crazy, acting-heavy game. Will, Andi and I are all Psych/CogSci majors, so we enjoyed analyzing the emotional games the professional-grade shopkeepers will put you through to get you to pay more. One even took fifteen minutes to explain the process of how ties were made, from the way the fabric is cut, to the taylor specifications and everything. Overall, an experience worth paying money for in and of itself.

All that, and starting to run far.

DON'T TOUCH THE ART. RAWR.

Occasionally I get roped into the least relaxing job of all time: guard duty at the museum. The current exhibition features a room full of enormous playthings, and we need to make sure that absolutely no one touches them.

This is inexplicably difficult. Grown men and women leap over the "do not touch" signs and lines on the ground in attempts to topple the art in a ferocious embrace. Little children are obviously worse, and I'm averaging about two brain aneurysms for every time one walks in the room, though I'm prepared to tackle them mercilessly to the ground at any moment if they get too close. I now understand why policemen are so bitter: constantly stopping people from doing stupid things makes me hate everyone in the room almost as much as I hate everyone in over-crowded dining halls, or tofu.

So all I can do is growl at them to take a step back. I will admit to having resorted to using a loudspeaker to get my way.

Snorting Art History on the Sidewalks of Shanghai

Art History is highly addictive. Following the emotional abstraction of Monet and Matisse, the "pop" of Warhol and Lichtenstein, and the plain, bold colors of Reinhardt and Klein is like an adventure video game.

Art History is more addictive than ever before because it is immediately gratifying. Websites like Wikipedia and ARTstor (an art image database) have revolutionized the Art History world. With these electronic libraries at my disposal, I can synthesize masses of information and ideas far faster than any life-long art historian could fifty years ago. I can compare images from museums around the world, read critiques, and even access online journals in a few clicks of my laptop pad while still in my bed. In just a few days of studying, I feel on par with any 1950's art historian who spent his days traveling to and from museums and libraries. Now more than ever, the gratifying nature of art history puts it on par with any sort of drug I know.


Of course, downsides exist - repetitive, formulaic research, the ever-changing art world, and the improbable nature of coming up with any truly "unique" ideas (at my local library alone, I saw over a dozen large textbooks named, "Art History", "The History of Art", "Historical Perspectives on Art", "Art, in a History", "Art: A New History", and several other permutations of the same words). But I will continue to ignore these because learning about Art History buys one a fresh perspective on culture. And addictions are kind of fun. This is one drug, however, that is sold only in this century. But we'll use it to rush ahead and unveil what hasn't been by traditional scholars.

This is the promise of the new generation: to learn faster and make more on-the-fly connections about the world to maybe make it a better place. The depth of knowledge might be sacrificed, but it's a small price to pay.