Arts and culture, represent
Over the last month, several articles have mentioned that Quincy Jones, the acclaimed musician and producer, is lobbying President Obama to create a minister of culture or secretary of the arts position in his administration. And why not? In recent years, it certainly feels like arts and culture have been pushed to the side. The arts form part of the backbone of this country, and provide a massive tax base that pays for all sorts of federal projects. Maybe it’s time to give this important part of our collective and distinctly American culture a national voice. This country invented jazz, for crying out loud. Jazz, of course, being Jones’ life-long passion and what gave him his start back in the be-boppin’ 1950s.
According to “Q” (his favored nickname), we’re the only industrialized country that doesn’t have some sort of cabinet-level arts position. That seems impossible, but it’s true. With all the money that was slashed from the NEA (National Endowment of the Arts) back in the mid-90s thanks to Newt and Co. and a couple of bad PR moves (And no, it hasn’t really gotten better since then. Although a lot of people think the subsequent “raises” given to the NEA in the last few years has healed some of the damage, it absolutely has not.), hasn’t the time come, in this new administration, to give the arts some sort of advocate in D.C., someone who may even be able to, I don’t know, occasionally have coffee and a chat with the President?
Anyway, an ingenious soul set up an online position directed at President Obama to ask that this new arts position be created. If you feel strongly as well, go on and sign it.
Local apathy
This weekend, I attended an event sponsored by the Cleveland chapter of the Society of Professional Journalists, primarily aimed at those who are seeking to transition their careers from print journalism to other types of writing. I was invited by John Ettorre, the well-known Cleveland writer & blogger extraordinaire. It was a good experience, and the turnout was great, especially considering the terrible road conditions. There was plenty of great information shared, and was I’m sure especially helpful for those who weren’t already involved in new media, such as blogs or other forms of online communication. But I have to say, one of the saddest things about Saturday (besides the fact that so many people there were either hanging on by a thread to their jobs, or had already been laid off) was really understanding that print newspapers truly are going away. I mean, I’ve been reading the newspaper since I was 8 or 9, and once I discovered Mitch Albom’s articles in the Detroit Free Press, it was all over for me. I read it before school every day. I would eat breakfast at the counter in our kitchen, bowl of cereal in front of me, slurping up milk, and reading Mitch. His series of articles on the Secret World Series during the MLB strike of 1994 was a classic, whether or not you like him and his tear-jerky books aside.
Another disturbing issue brought to my attention during the workshop was raised by Mary Ann Sharkey, the famed Ohio journalist, wgucg was this: If print journalism goes away, or newspaper-style investigative journalism in general, then who’s going to cover the local issues? I mean, it’s not like the local television stations do a good job of this. If you want sensationalism, and dumb teaser commercials, that’s the place to go now. It’s all about ratings, which I suppose can’t be helped. But I cannot tell you the last time I watched the local news. For that type of information, I turn to either the Plain Dealer or Cleveland.com. I’m not going to pretend that I like the PD, because I don’t. Growing up with the Free Press, I’m sorry, it’s a poor relation. Part of the problem may have to do with the fact that it has no competition, and hasn’t for years. But I digress. If I want local, I still go to the PD. If that goes away, and is replaced by (mainly biased) “citizen journalists” and their blogs (and don’t get me wrong — there are some great ones, but the web is so cluttered and over-opinionated at this point, who has the time to find them?), with no training and no sense of what it means to be a journalist (which I decidedly AM NOT, but then again, I don’t profess to be), what happens? Worse, I feel like people my age, the Gen Xers & Gen Yers, are just not as cognizant of or interested in local news, anyway. We were brought up on the 24-hour news cycle of CNN & and MSNBC (and — UGH — Fox), and their online counterparts. Local news barely registers to a lot of the people in my age cohort. So then what? Does local news stop getting coverage if no one seems to care? And I don’t mean human interest, but City Hall. The school boards. The city councils. Corruption has always plagued the offices of big cities, but if no one’s covering it, it’s only going to get worse. Can you imagine? Growing up just outside of Detroit, I was more than aware of “King” Coleman Young and recently Kwame “Big Dumb” Kilpatrick’s reigns of corruption. And do you know what brought “Big Dumb” down, finally? Local journalism. The Detroit Free Press making a big, big stink until they got the documents they wanted.
Sorry for the rant. But a world without real news journalism, and without people who know enough to care about it, is a scary world, indeed.
News U
Came across a great link today while clicking around on the Poynter Institute site. It’s called News University (or News U). Once you register as a member, you get access to all sort of free (yes, free) online seminars and live “webinars.” It’s aimed at journalists, but I think anyone who writes can get something out of many of the offered courses. I plan on registering for a few myself. With the constant blathering created by blogs (I include myself in this category), quality journalistic writing seems to be fast disappearing. Even if print newspapers go the way of the dinosaur over the next 10 years, that doesn’t mean we can forget how to write. Time to brush up on the basics.
Wordle me this
I have a new favorite toy. For the next few minutes, anyway. It’s called Wordle, and it takes any website or blog that has an RSS feed and makes into visual art. Kind of like a word collage. You can click here to see my Wordle of today’s Daily Beast.
My recommendation is to tread your Wordle to yourself. If you do, it sounds kind of like bad beat-era or open mic poetry. Or the ravings of a paranoid schizophrenic. Take your pick.
Self-defense for the hopelessly uncool
Caught this completely awesome YouTube video on Alison Morris’ blog on the Publisher’s Weekly site.
So very, very enjoyable, and yet utterly wrong.
Wait a sec…our new president…reads? Openly?
Excuse me if I’m confused, but it’s been so long since we’ve had a president who OPENLY reads (Bush seems to have looked at reading more as a competition, and less as a way of provoking thought), and who is respectful of the English language both as a written and spoken form of communication, that I’m feeling a bit verklempt. *brushing away a tear*
In today’s New York Times, Michiko Kakutani writes about how books and language in general have influenced our almost-inaugurated president-elect, Barack Obama. It seems that Mr. Obama uses books as a way to *gasp* gain information, and not necessarily to cement in his mind his own ideas and visions. As widely reported, Doris Kearns Goodwin’s excellent “Team of Rivals” is one of his biggest influences, solidifying his beliefs that differing opinions and backgrounds do not an impossible situation (or cabinet) make.
Obama counts many other books and authors as having been a direct influence on both his personal beliefs and public policy, including Toni Morrison’s “Song of Solomon,” Doris Lessing’s “Golden Notebook,” Ralph Ellison’s “Invisible Man,” and Shakespeare’s tragedies, among others.
In addition to his love of reading, as everyone knows by now, he’s also a best-selling author. Since “lowly” community organizers aren’t known for their outrageous salaries (much like mayors of tiny Alaskan cities), his personal fortune was only made upon publishing his two books, “Dreams from My Father,” and “The Audacity of Hope.”
My hope is that with Barack Obama in office, maybe a New Word Order is at hand. Perhaps kids and parents will look at him and begin to realize how much books have to offer, and how reading, from an early age, can actually change the hardwiring of the brain, helping with later reading comprehension, and easing the path through elementary school and beyond. While I’m probably just wishing, if his widely-publicized love of books influences even a small percentage of people, I will take it.
Farewell, Is Our Children Reading. Welcome, Ardent Love of Reading and Lifetime Lover of Books.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you
Have I mentioned that I love cookbooks? I love the luscious writing, the completely, ridiculously aspirational recipes (Hello, French Laundry Cookbook), and the full-color photos which I always imagine that if I can justgetcloseenough, I will be able to smell the truffles wafting right through the paper. It’s porn for foodies. I want to lick the page. I haven’t yet, but there have been a couple of close calls.
My most recent foray into food porn is with The Splendid Table’s How to Eat Supper, by Lynne Rossetto Kasper and Sally Swift, the co-creators of the James Beard Award-winning and eponymously-named show from American Public Media. I was a little on the fence about this one at first. Although I love me some public radio, sometimes it veers over to the uber-quirky, or the “we take ourselves waaaaaay seriously” side of reporting/informing/entertaining. And although this book does take itself fairly seriously (the tone tries almost too hard to be casual, resulting in the opposite effect, if that makes any sense), it is extremely easy to follow, with recipes that even I could probably put together. The ingredients used aren’t overwhelming (i.e., they can be found in your local grocery store for the most part, even here in O-H, I-O), and in the kitchen tools and gadgets section, they do a great job of telling you what you really need, and what you can utterly live without.
One of the most interesting things about this book is the way it emphasizes using organic ingredients as much as possible. Rather than getting preachy about why we should do this (serious foodie = no likee the preaching. Remember, many of these folks are the same ones who enjoy a nice force-fed duck liver. Therefore, preaching = irritating and not hugely compelling), they instead write about how organic ingredients can add to the flavor of food by allowing cooks to use the whole ingredient, skins and such included. There are also a large number of vegetarian options, or ways to convert many of the recipes into vegetarian meals. But my favorite part may be the shortcut sections they include in every area of the book. No time to make stock (even the great Cheaters Homemade Broth recipe)? Not to worry. They review the best tasting stocks to be found on your grocer’s shelves. They give the same treatment to other ingredients, like canned tomatoes, beans, and similar pantry staples that most of us do not have time to mess with by the time we get home from work.
Another fun part aspect of How to Eat Supper is the general design of the book. You can tell the writers had a good time when they were putting it together. Neat little asides pop up all over the place, including food quotes (my favorite being: “I am not a vegetarian because I love animals, I am a vegetarian because I hate plants. — A. Whitney Brown), interesting food facts, suggestions on building your own library of cookbooks based on subject, and short excerpts of interviews with some of the well-known personalities who have graced The Splendid Table studios over the years.
Overall, this is the type of book that makes me think even I can figure out this whole cooking thing. Perhaps someday I’ll even adopt Sally Swift’s annual resolution, to cook her way through a new book over the course of the new year. If I do someday get up the cojones to do it, I think this may be the book that gets me there.
Alinea
I am a food freak, I admit it. I’ve become somewhat better over the last couple of years, thanks to my husband’s obsession with sports. He addicted me to things like the NFL, that had really never held much interest to me before 2002. Anyway, just because my food freakiness is slightly better, doesn’t mean it’s cured. Although I spend less time watching Food Network, I find that I spend just as much time reading books about food. I love chefs, I like reading about what they do, what they make, how they put it all together (attention: this does not mean Rachel Ray). I like reading about individual foods, and tracing their origins (afterall, there is a whole book about salt. Yes. Salt). I like cookbooks, even if I can’t really make anything in my own kitchen (I do own a kickin’ knife set, though). I enjoy books about cooking technique (I long ago crowned myself the best theoretical cooker this side of the Rocky Mountains). And if a restaurant really captures my attention, and someone’s gone and written a book about it, I am very likely to read it. Which brings me to Alinea.
Alinea, the restaurant, is the creation of chef Grant Achatz (rhymes with jackets). A seemingly not-so-huge, no-so-celebrity chef sort of place, in Chicago’s Lincoln Park neighborhood. And the food! I must eat there. It’s been on my list for two years, since I read about Achatz in one of Michael Ruhlman’s books (Ruhlman opens Alinea (the book) with an interesting and lengthy essay), while he was still chef at Trio in Evanston, IL. However, Alinea is expensive for a peon like me; the shorter of the two tasting menus is $145 per person, not including wine. But my understanding is that it’s as close to a life-changing experience as one can get from a restaurant. At least, for a dorky food nerd like me. It supposedly may even be, may God strike me down where I sit if I am lying, more amazing that Thomas Keller’s French Laundry in Yountville, CA.
Did I really just type that? Perish the thought.
Anyway, I can’t say whether it’s better or not, seeing as I am not rich and therefore unable to find $400-$600 dollars for me and my husband to dine in either of these establishments, but I can get just a little bit of a taste, pun intended, for what Achatz is trying to achieve at Alinea by reading his book. Part science experient gone terribly right, part art, and part just delicious, amazing, evocative creations that I can only hope pass over my palate someday, the book really is amazing. The food photography alone is worth the purchase, as long as you’re OK drooling all over yourself. But reading others’ takes on Alinea, and getting inside Achatz’s head, and finding out how he comes up with his individual dishes and menus makes the $50 retail price a little easier to…uh…stomach?
Honestly, I wanted to lick the page. But, I refrained. It was property of the Cuyahoga County Library, after all.
Speed demon
Today’s Los Angeles Times features an interview with Sarah Weinman, the blogger who writes their Dark Passages column. She began keeping track of every book she reads in in 2005, and in 2008, read 462 books, the longest beng about 900 pages, and the shortest being just under 100. I enjoyed this interview because it seems that I read the same way that she does, and she found a way to describe the way her brain works that makes a lot of sense to me (and apparently, it’s a shared sentiment, as some of the comments left on the Times’ website are from people who feel much the same as I do). As much as I read, and as many books as I go through in a year (not 400+, but probably 150 or so), my husband’s often said (only half-kiddingly, I beleve) he thinks I’m just pretending to read, and really just flipping pages. Untrue, but I can see how that probably looks to him.
Weinman has already read nearly 11 books already this year. So, in the spirit of her record-keeping, I’ve decided to keep track of the number of books I read this year. So far, it’s five, and will be six by the end of the day. I don’t have a goal with this, trying to speed through to hit a certain number, but I’ll be curious to see how I do by year’s end.
Best job in the world
The 1/6/09 Examiner features a short blog post by Ronald Holden, the famed food writer and blogger, and founder of Cornichon.org. Holden begins the article by writing about the recent Wall Street Journal article on the best and worst jobs in the United States, and wonders why food critic isn’t one of them. I have to agree with him there. If I wasn’t a quasi-vegetarian, and therefore willing to eat a much wider range of foods, that would definitely be a the top of my list of dream jobs (as an aside, though, if anyone out there IS willing to hire a veggie food writer, please shoot me an email — I am all over it).
Towards the end of his blog, Holden mentions an op-ed in yesterday’s New York Times by Wendell Berry and Wes Jackson, and I thought it important to give that op-ed as much publicity as possible. Berry writes about the need for something he’s calling a 50-year farm bill, explaining essentially that with all the rush to “green” this and “eco” that, somehow it’s become lost in the mix that our greatest natural resource, soil, is in great danger of going the way of the dinosaur, due to the great amount of abuse it’s subject to on a regular basis. He goes on to remind us that soil is non-renewable, and there is no amount of money in the form of government subsudies to agri-business giants or otherwise that will allow more food to be grown or raised, because once the soil is dead, it’s dead. His suggestion to make sure that doesn’t happen is a farming practice called perennialization, a form of crop rotation, and a 50-year farm bill “that addresses forthrightly the problems of soil loss and degradation, toxic pollution, fossil-fuel dependency and the destruction of rural communities.”
In other words, ya’ll, if we want to keep eating, we better start paying more attention to where our food comes from, who’s making it, and exactly how it’s made or grown. It could be as simple as eating more certified organic produce, or buying more locally, but regardless, we’re all going to have to do our part. I’d hate to have to live on those weird freeze-dried astronaut meals when I’m in my golden years, and I think you would, too.