A virtual tour of the Museum of Art and Design’s newest exhibition, dedicated to all the surprising ways artists are using paper today. In the year since the Museum of Art and Design reopened in its new digs on Columbus Circle, they’ve been delivering consistently compelling shows—from punk-rock lace to radical knitting experiments. The newest, “Slash: Paper Under the Knife”, opened last weekend and runs through April 4, 2010. The focus is paper—and the way contemporary artists have used paper itself as a medium, whether by cutting, tearing, burning, or shredding. In all, the show features 50 artists and a dozen installations made just for the show, including Andreas Kocks’s Paperwork #701G (in the Beginning).

1. Jobs are not coming back. People are hurting!!!! “Some people” (me!) cheered the return of the DJ average to 10,000 last week. Yup, we’re pulling out of the recession! Try telling that to the 15 million out of work in the U.S. And those still working are scoring but 33 hours per week—the least in 60 years. In a horrifying (careful word choice) article by gazillionaire Mort Zuckerman in yesterday’s Financial Times (“The Free Market Is Not Up to the Job of Creating Work”), Mr. Z adds a raft of other appalling facts about the astonishing mismatch between areas where job growth might take place and the skillsets of the recently booted. Message: The recession is a long way from “waning” for a bloody lot of people! Keep your cheering to yourself! (You may have to keep it to yourself for, say, the next 10 years.) 2. So the reporter at the desk next to yours lost his job. An article in Time focused on the implications of the revolutionary transition to the “new economy.” For God’s sake, I’ve been yelling about that for 15 years. And what a bunch of bull! Yup, there is a new economy—and newspapers are getting clobbered. But the large majority of us still work in pharmacies and insurance offices and, yes, car dealerships. Why oh why do we always willfully focus on folks in big companies in sexy industries? 3. Gen X (etc.) is bringing a new look to the work force. Yeah, unemployed. Much as we focus on the 52-year-old UAW worker tossed out the door, the fact is that the older folks are doing relatively well in the “contraction”—and the younger folks are taking it in the chops. (See BusinessWeek’s “horrifying” October 8 cover story, “The Lost Generation.”) 4. Don’t lose those superstars! Is there any credible evidence that Wall Street’s superstars (about to receive mega-bonuses) are actually superstars? If so, it’s not clear to me. (I admit to being a slavish devotee of Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s Fooled By Randomness—which sets off alarms on this topic.)

From the classical world, though one could choose all sorts of great works, I recommend a soaking in Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, to see how the great philosopher constructed a set of ethics that shaped the Western world. Homer told the story of Odysseus and Virgil in The Aeneid. Homer’s story came into the Roman world and gave to all of us the power of a journey into ideas and ideals, sanctifying place and history. Dante took Homer and Virgil to the next level in his Divine Comedy, and if you follow him all the way down into the inferno, up through purgatory and then climb into the swirling glorious presence of God you will find new dimensions to life’s journey. I’ve heard the case made that St. Augustine’s Confessions reshaped the entire Western world, not least in his probing of his own soul and conscience, but I’m confident that the great North African can lead each of us to the potent truth of original sin and the need to read our lives before God. Not long ago I began to re-read John Milton, Paradise Lost, and was mesmerized not only by his language and meter, but by the brilliance of his vision for the cosmic battle of human life. No one on this side of the Atlantic can fail to be captured, humbled and even humiliated before God by Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin. It brings into living reality the evil of slavery and the heart of darkness, a heart that was eschewed by the arch-individiual, Henry David Thoreau in On Walden Pond. Americans need to dip into this classic work of human independence and freedom if only to capture again what makes so many Americans still tick. Hemingway said Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was the great American novel. I’m not expert enough on American novels to pose such a conclusion, but I can say that very few have probed more deeply the foibles of the human heart, whether Twain does so with withering wit or raw finger-pointing. For some reason few today have read C.S. Lewis’ Dymer, his first work, a saga, a journey, and a portrait of human hubris at its apex – and the work provides for us a revelation of what Lewis was like, what his yearning was like, before it became Surprised by Joy. I confess to being one of the few who have not read all of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings – I have read The Hobbit – but I return regularly to his short story, “Leaf by Niggle,” and often wonder if there is a better way of describing our vocation and its relation to eternity. Every summer, somehow, I find my way to Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea, and whether it is the combination of the hunt with baseball in the old man’s musings or not, the struggle to catch and never show what one found … Hemingway reminds me of the intangibles of the human struggle. Probably the deepest and most penetrating book I read during my seminary days was Martin Buber’s I and Thou, a philosophical, theological essay into the relational nature of what matters most.

Will I like it? I did, but not as much as I would have without my kids. I love Maurice Sendak’s book and truly adore the videos and movies that Spike Jonze has been involved with. The trailers for Where the Wild Things Are had me prepared to be whisked away with nostalgia and feel-good sentiment. I was certain it would be an emotional ride — and to an extent, it was. I thought the characters of the monsters were representative of a lot of the fears, tribulations and uncertainties we face as adults. But rather than be drawn in, no matter how badly I wanted it to happen, I never felt much of an emotional connection with either Max (who seemed a great candidate for Ritalin) or any of the Wild Things. While Max’s first night in the land of the Wild Things comes close to capturing the warmth and closeness of the book, his following days give way to coldness and inanity. Still, it was a gorgeous film and I appreciated all of the details (especially the soundtrack) that contributed to the movie’s sense of childhood whimsy. Will my kids like it? I thought so … at first. It was all smiles and giggles when Max was wreaking havoc on the family dog, his sister and mom. But once he went to the place where the Wild Things are, the movie took a dark turn. As the wild things announced they would eat Max, my kids snuggled in closer. One of the monsters had a frightening paranoia that led you to believe she might be violent at any moment. What’s more, these were not the gentle giants my kids had translated them to be from the book. These Wild Things were violent and very mean at times and, toward the end of the movie, there were some intense scenes of anger from some of the Wild Things that left one of my kids crying. By the end of the movie, with Max’s emotional return home, another of my seven-year-olds was in tears. On the way out of the theater, I noticed more than a few kids being consoled by their parents. I guess Maurice Sendak would probably tell me to go to hell, though. What’s the geek appeal? Are you serious? It’s an all-time classic book about a boy who has some trouble associating with others, a visit to a fantasy land and gobs of monsters. Does any more really need to be said? Who’s in it again? Catherine Keener is Max’s Mom and Mark Ruffalo has a small part as her boyfriend. Max is played admirably by Max (Records). The voices for the Wild Things are provided by Forest Whitaker, James Gandolfini, Lauren Ambrose, Catherine O’Hara, Chris Cooper, Paul Dano, Angus Sampson and Michael Berry, Jr. Any memorable previews? Not really. There was Planet 51, A Christmas Carol and some Jackie Chan movie called The Spy Next Door. There was also a trailer for Despicable Me, which looked potentially amusing. Will kids want to see it again? My sample group says: no, no way and maybe. Your mileage may vary. Does it ruin the book? Not so much. The movie is such a significantly different interpretation of the book that Sendak’s story stands tall still. Re-reading our dog-eared, taped-together, warped-covered copy upon returning from the movie, I’m immediately reminded of the warm feeling I got from reading it, all those hundreds of times (both to myself as a child and — later — to my kids). Perhaps it’s the protectiveness I have from guarding a childhood favorite, but my imaginative interpretation of the book’s telling of the story will trump the movie every time. How in the heck did they get 110 minutes out of 10 sentences? The important thing to remember is that the movie, as a creative work, is fairly independent of the book and, as a result, takes great liberty with the narrative. The setup — Max making mischief — takes a substantially longer amount of time in the film. (Although, thankfully, the movie does not chronicle a sea voyage of “almost a year”.) There’s a good deal of liberty taken in what happens during Max’s visit to where the Wild Things are. And, to be fair, it’s a very decent interpretation. But it’s one that — if you were to connect the dots with the book’s storyline — would provide the biggest gap and translation of the book-to-movie. While there is plenty of creative license, Sendak signed off on the screenplay and it’s difficult to imagine anyone who could have done a better job of tackling this (nearly) 50-year-old classic than Jonze. It’s PG, but how PG is it? There’s a touch of language and some sequences that border on violent. However, there’s also some action that leaves Max confused, scared and crying. Mostly, as noted above, the scenes of anger and hostility may confuse and frighten kids who have a more idyllic interpretation of the book. What’s the best time for a bathroom break? The movie’s setup is a lot longer than the first few pages of the book. It takes awhile for Max to get to where the Wild Things are. About two-thirds of the way in, as the monsters begin to build Max’s fort, is another opportunity to sneak away for a quick break.

Posted in Current Events Tagged: 12StoneChurch, 1990s

Go check out the track record of the loudest believers in your industry. They’re wrong far more than they are right. In fact, when they love a new tech product or candidate, it might just be the jinx that guarantees failure. The truth of the market is that the market you sell to isn’t filled with true believers. It’s filled with human beings who make compromises, who tell stories, who have competing objectives. And as a result, the truth of the market is that the products and services that win (if win means you can make a good living and make positive change) are rarely the products and services that are beloved without reservation by the true believers.

Posted in Current Events Tagged: 12StoneChurch, 1980s

Dear Old People Who Run the World, My generation would like to break up with you. Everyday, I see a widening gap in how you and we understand the world — and what we want from it. I think we have irreconcilable differences. You wanted big, fat, lazy “business.” We want small, responsive, micro-scale commerce. You turned politics into a dirty word. We want authentic, deep democracy — everywhere. You wanted financial fundamentalism. We want an economics that makes sense for people — not just banks. You wanted shareholder value — built by tough-guy CEOs. We want real value, built by people with character, dignity, and courage. You wanted an invisible hand — it became a digital hand. Today’s markets are those where the majority of trades are done literally robotically. We want a visible handshake: to trust and to be trusted. You wanted growth — faster. We want to slow down — so we can become better. You didn’t care which communities were capsized, or which lives were sunk. We want a rising tide that lifts all boats. You wanted to biggie size life: McMansions, Hummers, and McFood. We want to humanize life. You wanted exurbs, sprawl, and gated anti-communities. We want a society built on authentic community. You wanted more money, credit and leverage — to consume ravenously. We want to be great at doing stuff that matters. You sacrificed the meaningful for the material: you sold out the very things that made us great for trivial gewgaws, trinkets, and gadgets. We’re not for sale: we’re learning to once again do what is meaningful. There’s a tectonic shift rocking the social, political, and economic landscape. The last two points above are what express it most concisely. I hate labels, but I’m going to employ a flawed, imperfect one: Generation “M.” What do the “M”s in Generation M stand for? The first is for a movement. It’s a little bit about age — but mostly about a growing number of people who are acting very differently. They are doing meaningful stuff that matters the most. Those are the second, third, and fourth “M”s. Gen M is about passion, responsibility, authenticity, and challenging yesterday’s way of everything. Everywhere I look, I see an explosion of Gen M businesses, NGOs, open-source communities, local initiatives, government. Who’s Gen M? Obama, kind of. Larry and Sergey. The Threadless, Etsy, and Flickr guys. Ev, Biz and the Twitter crew. Tehran 2.0. The folks at Kiva, Talking Points Memo, and FindtheFarmer. Shigeru Miyamoto, Steve Jobs, Muhammad Yunus, and Jeff Sachs are like the grandpas of Gen M. There are tons where these innovators came from. Gen M isn’t just kind of awesome — it’s vitally necessary. If you think the “M”s sound idealistic, think again. The great crisis isn’t going away, changing, or “morphing.” It’s the same old crisis — and it’s growing. You’ve failed to recognize it for what it really is. It is, as I’ve repeatedly pointed out, in our institutions: the rules by which our economy is organized. But they’re your institutions, not ours. You made them — and they’re broken. Here’s what I mean: “… For example, the auto industry has cut back production so far that inventories have begun to shrink — even in the face of historically weak demand for motor vehicles. As the economy stabilizes, just slowing the pace of this inventory shrinkage will boost gross domestic product, or GDP, which is the nation’s total output of goods and services.” Clearing the backlog of SUVs built on 30-year-old technology is going to pump up GDP? So what? There couldn’t be a clearer example of why GDP is a totally flawed concept, an obsolete institution. We don’t need more land yachts clogging our roads: we need a 21st Century auto industry. I was (kind of) kidding about seceding before. Here’s what it looks like to me: every generation has a challenge, and this, I think, is ours: to foot the bill for yesterday’s profligacy — and to create, instead, an authentically, sustainably shared prosperity. Anyone — young or old — can answer it. Generation M is more about what you do and who you are than when you were born. So the question is this: do you still belong to the 20th century – or the 21st? Love, Umair and the Edge Economy Community