Showing posts with label essays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label essays. Show all posts

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Music in Los Angeles and the Hotbed of Talent: Birthday Weekend


Birthday Weekend
by Armando Ortiz
My extended birthday weekend began a few days before Spring Break, soon after completing my last final at Cal State L.A. Once that was done my brain shut down and all I wanted to do was relax. A day before my actual birthday began, and during the self induced brain coma of not learning theories and ways of teaching, and with a somewhat rested body that had had two days of longer sleep and endless hours of downloading music, a pre-celebration took place. The day before the big birthday a friend, Tom, would be performing at the Hard Rock Café in Hollywood with Rivet, a local hard rock band, with whom he plays bass.
My friend Tom on the bass.
I arrived early to find a spot to sit, but inside the place was packed with people of all kinds eating burgers and other greasy foods. The shatter and murmur of the people was a mixture of English and other languages that I did not have the time to decipher  There was a pit where most of the family tables were located and where the majority of people sat and that's where I stood for a while searching for my friends. I began texting Tom but there was no reply, so I kept walking around the venue until I found his wife, Semmy, at a distance. I approached, announcing my presence and she took me to the green room where Tom and the band were getting ready and chatting it up with the other bands that were competing in the Battle of the Bands, which included Lookin' For Trouble, Take 48 and Kid Gramophone.
Rivet
After a few minutes of being introduced to the other members I ordered a Hard Rock burger, a Cesar salad and a glass of water. It might have been one of the best burgers I’ve had in a while, though it wasn’t able to replace the tasty Tommy’s Burgers' sloppy tastiness  In the middle of the meal Rivet went on stage and began blasting away with their hard sonic rock sounds. Their style resembles a slower version of Queen’s of the Stone Age with a bit of an edge to the lyrics. I left the burger half way and went out to the pit where a mass of people was gathering and swaying to the live music. As everyone stood watching them perform energy began to fill the entire room, these guys were in the pocket and were getting the crowd into their music. Their set ended and everyone cheered them on applauding the four song performance. Returning to the green room greetings and congratulations, along with handshakes were given and the burger that was left on the table was finally finished. All there was left were specks of fries and smears of ketchup. I'd requested to go in late to work that night, and once all formalities were done I took La Brea Ave south to LAX. The drive was about thirty minutes, and from the hilly slopes of Hollywood one could see the grey fog at a distance, but once driving past Jefferson and driving through the oil fields that divide Los Angeles from Inglewood, the watery clouds were beginning to settle. This is one of the few spots in LA that while driving makes you wonder how it must have been driving these areas fifty years ago, when there was more nature and less people. The incandescent street lights gave a light orange glow that perfectly blended into the natural and man-made Los Angeles landscape. The drive to work was smooth and easy matching well with the music that was coming out of the speakers of the car- Lil Keke's Addicted 2 Fame.
            The next day was the birthday celebration which was a bit subdued due to extenuating circumstances that made me want to relax more than go out and party. After completing a tutoring session with my student at the Chinatown Service Center a bee line to the LA Bakery was made, where I bought a delicious chocolate mousse cake. I was going to go home to eat cake with coffee, and relax, maybe watch a netflix film. Nonetheless, after relentless calls and questioning from a friend I decided to go check out a local band called Buyepongo. 
Honduras Kitchen flyer:
Punta Cartel
            I took the 10 Freeway east, and exited Alameda, making a turn at the stop light and then drove to the place, but missed my destination by a few blocks. Driving around the mean streets of South Central was a reality that had to be lived out at that very moment. I finally got to the venue, Honduras Kitchen, at around ten thirty in the evening, which is located on Santa Fe and Slauson. It was my first time there and the parking space in the locale was packed, so the security guard suggested parking the car across the street from where the place was. I contacted my friends, who were inside their car, too scared to go out and blend with the environment. Entrance was simple with a cover charge of ten dollars. Once inside we were told to go to the table that was nearest to the band that was performing at that moment, Cumbia Cartel, who is made up of musicians that are from different parts of the Caribbean and Central America. The performance they put down was good, and one of the guys even had a set of instruments made of turtle shells. Their combination of West African beats with their mixture of accordion like synthesizer at times made for a very enjoyable rhythmic ride. I was transported to a beach, where I drank cold coronas, enjoying the punta/cumbia beats that were emanating from the instruments of those unknown musicians.
Buyepongo
Once their set was done DJ Subsuelo began his hour long set, which started out good, but ended up turning into an odd mix of cumbia and house, which was made a bit hectic with the house sound systems which was out of whack. Finally, Buyepongo began their set. They do not need all that sound system stuff to get their groove on because once they start playing the dancing begins and things get off fast with people beginning to move to their groove. The venue was ideal for a band like theirs because the need to connect a lot of electrical and sound devices is not necessary. What especially stands out from this particular band is how well they sound as a whole unit, and the fact that they play a variety of instruments makes them one of the more versatile and original bands in the Los Angeles area. They have soul, grove, estilo, and some firme sounds that will make anyone get up and dance. My good friend Ismael, though, who is more of an observer and an analyzer of people decided to stay in his seat, next to his wife. I went up to the dance floor and asked a lady to dance, who moved like a snake, and swaying like a Heron. She would quicken her pace with her youthfulness, and moved as if her feet were touching fire, with a seasoning of ritualistic fire dancing, I was humbled but was too excited to care because I was in the pocket. There is a sense of satisfaction that comes when thinking of the choice that was made for that day because Buye always puts on bad ass shows, and the fact that beautiful women show up and are down to dancing with anyone is one big incentive to show up and shake one’s skeleton.
House Lounge flyer featuring
all the bands.
            Saturday evening had me at the edge of Maywood. To continue my celebration and for entertainment purposes my friends invited me to dance some Spanish rock at the House Lounge, which changes their name to El Ritual on Saturdays. To my amazement there was a huge Ska concert in the back of the venue, which everyone that entered the club had access too. The bands there were getting down and a giant mosh pit had been made by a giant human circle that moved clockwise. The scene was a bit intimidating, seeing people in their twenties with beer bottles, and Pendleton shirts buttoned up while others wore wife beater shirts made you think twice of where you stepped, but I walked around and found a sweet spot where I could watch the show without being bothered by some crazy mosher that might suddenly push you. I climbed on a platform that was beside a wall and from there watched The South Central Skankers, Matamoska, and Roncovacoco put on a show that was a mixture of punk and symphonic banda trumpeteering that included about two saxophones and one trombone. I went back inside and bought a beer and there found my friend swaying to music from Heroes Del Silencio. Though the mosh pit was big and lots of people would join the pushing and the bumping nothing serious happened. I ended my night by driving west on Washington Blvd to where I live.
Good Micheladas
Flyer for the nigh's event.
            My weekend ended with meeting up with a good friend at Eastside Luv located in Boyle Heights where there was yet another live performance, but this time it was a lady’s show with women that were not only beautiful but very talented. There was a lady whose name I never got who was busting out some amazing mariachi songs, and was being backed up by a female band that played the fiddle, the guitar and a guitar bass. Eastside Luv has one of the best micheladas that I have had anywhere in Los Angeles. The show, which was a 5 dollar cover charge, was really good and made the drive east well worth it. I even got to see Marisoul who makes up part of the La Santa Cecilia, a very talented band that has been touring the southwest for a good minute. My birthday weekend ended, and I had to finally wake up from the brain haze and readjust to the new quarter and picking up from where I left off. 
Me


Thursday, September 6, 2012

Laurie Lipton: Artist in Los Angeles


Lauire Lipton, Los Angeles Exhibit
by Armando Ortiz
            A few days ago I visited the Laurie Lipton exhibit being held at the ACE gallery in Los Angeles which is on Wilshire Blvd a few blocks west of La Brea. After decades of living abroad the artist decided to return to the states and make Los Angeles her home. The current exhibit she has on display is superb. Her style and the medium she uses are at the height of any master artist’s abilities. The space where her exhibit is being held is huge, and at times it left like it was an extension of the LACMA.

Her images are amazing and she certainly took a lot of time making the intricate designs come to life. The quality of her work shines through all the bleak subject matter. It shows what American contemporary society and western culture is and brings up questions as to what our realities ought to be. She showcases the daily grind of life, of money making, survival, and the machine that is churning away at our being. Our soul, and death, in this case, time and consumerism, is the all-consuming knitter of reality. Like Goya’s Saturn Devouring His Son that eats all there is, her images also unveil the grotesque that exists in our daily life. Her current exhibit is a critical take on capitalism and modernity with the age old subject of death.
            Quality aside, her take on city life and that of Los Angeles is quite superficial. If what best describes Los Angeles is fake and superficial and one’s existence in Los Angeles correlates with her personal vision then ones reality is truly sad. Nonetheless, that is what her work portrays, a superficial take on the anxieties of a few people in this city. The majority of the people living here hardly have the problem of dressing up in the morning and walking their dog along well-manicured lawns. And though many might be slowly murdering themselves to death by the many plastic surgeries they have and the daily grind that takes place, it does not represent the majority’s experience. She presents something that is and at the same time isn’t, because in reality the death that takes place is usually unknown and her work seems to muffle that reality even more.
            Her topics though they reveal the prevailing anxiety of life in the city are rather bland because there exist death and there exist Death. Death is what everyone has to face and has to come to grips with. On a daily basis there is exploitation in this city, and on a daily basis a type of violence takes place and these are things she refuses to touch on. Her preoccupation with death as the horror at the end of the tunnel and how it ultimately is above time comes through her work. The skulls that emerge from her mind and onto the paper are great, but it’s a reality everyone has to face. Death is a whole different matter when one considers the exploitation of illegal workers, the risk that sex workers face, the violence that gangsters and thugs exercise on their enemies and the random unknown victims that never make it on to the local news. It’s as if she herself is consumed with the idea of consumerism, media and modernity while refusing to touch on justice, love and life.
            She’s a great artist, no doubt about that, but there is something missing. She uses graphite/ pencil to render amazing images that reveals the worst of modern society. The mechanizations behind what we perceive to be reality seems to control the reality that we are experiencing, which at this time of year with the presidential election looming just over the horizon and the media frenzy surrounding really shows that politics are about- image over substance, and showcases our anxieties of our waking life. Yet, where is life in all of this, and what about the other reality? Aside from the “office workers” waking up in the mornings and having their cereal, and the “house wives” walking the isles there are people who are working their tail off and yet are managing to live a life that is worth living. Out of the 24 hours of time that we have in a day only eight are dedicated to work, and another eight are dedicated to sleep and in between all that there is time to spend on hobbies, time with family, listen to music or go to the beach. Her work makes it seem as if everyone in the city lives to work and does not work to live.
            The horror that she experiences in her daily life are not what kids living in the poor neighborhoods experience. Theirs is a more raw reality of what city life is all about, and consumerism, the media, plastic surgeries, white collar office work, and wealth are not a part of their reality. Living in the midst of drug dealers, trannies walking down streets, amongst the general violence and poverty that they experience is a reality that they deal with and yet continue to push through in their life. It makes one wonder if Laurie is living in Los Angeles, the city, or the Los Angeles that is made up of hills, Hollywood stars and lofty lofts that are more like fortresses, because she only reveals a partial slice of a city that is far more complex than she creates on paper. But I am sure that this is not the case, because despite of what she has experienced in this city, she probably has favorite music that she listens to, enjoys a walk by the beach, and finds pleasure being with close friends.
            Nonetheless, there is more to her art, and maybe what isn’t spoken is her ultimate goal. Some of her pieces are very Gustave Dore-esque like her presentation of The Consumption, where a shopper is faced with an endless row of items to purchase. Her skulls are life like, and her images come alive through our own anxieties with death. I certainly work eight hours job, but I also go to school, read books, listen to music, dance, enjoy nature and have moments of bliss. And these things are lacking in her work. It’s as if the grotesque is presented in all its glory, but the missing piece to what truly is real has to be there because there are those that don’t go with the waves that society conjures and certainly do not experience a life the way she makes it out to be.
            

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Sunday Afternoon- Griffith Park Drum Circle: Sketches of Los Angeles

Sunday Afternoon: Griffith Park Drum Circle

by Armando Ortiz

Two Sundays ago I hiked up to Mt Hollywood and then descended down the Northeast side to where the Merry-Go-Round and the weekend drum circle are located. I figured it would be a nice place to relax a bit, read a few pages of Joyce’s Ulysses of which I'm almost done, and listen to some live music. I went down the trail slowly making my way to the drum circle. I made my final approach and sat under a tree a few meters away from the circle. I sat on the grass and lounged for a bit under the shade of an oak tree.

I saw people and all kinds of hands slapping drums, congas, djembes, bongos and tambourines or holding sticks that were either striking something or rasping some kind of instrument. Kids were running around, and toddlers dancing to the groove, along with their parents who were enjoying the music. There were ladies who wore speckles on their hips that made shingly sounds. Their hips swayed, rocked, twisted and shot from side to side rhythmically making their speckles shiver under the sun’s heat. The beats that emanated from the circle reminded me that people have been coming here and doing this for decades. The spirit of those that started this circle years ago resonated with childhood memories of when my family would go come to this part of Griffith Park for weekend barbecues. My siblings and I would play in the jungle gyms, use the swings, and slide down the shimmering slides. Occasionally we’d go ride the Merry-Go-Round that would go round and round as the plaster cast horses that were painted in bright pastels moved up and down. Even as we got older and sandboxes were replaced with baseballs, soccer balls, and footballs, we could still hear the rhythmic beats that were being born from that corner of the park.

As I sat down to hear the beats, a whirlpool of memories were brought up in that instant, like a sudden cloud funnel that appears out of nowhere and then disappears in the present nothingness of the sky. At that moment I got the idea to write about this spot, which lies hidden to many people who call Los Angeles home.

It surprises me that this spot is always very intimate and the people that come here are relaxed and are either making percussion beats or enjoying the sounds being made with the hands of a group of people that come from various and differing backgrounds. Some folks instead of drums bring grills to cook meat so as to have some live music in the background. The shade that the old oaks and pine trees make is something special.  Griffith Park is in Los Angeles, and it is only a few minutes away from the I-5, and only ten to fifteen minutes from Downtown L.A.

In between the silhouette of the trees I could see weekend warriors riding their shinny two wheelers glide bye, SUVs filled to the brim with working class families trudging through, and late-model Hondas zooming by, and all of them, no matter who was in them slowed down a bit and momentarily enjoyed the sounds that emanated from the shade. Some made a U turn and parked their cars, while others clapped or cheered, and others just kept driving.  

I can remember many times looking out the window as I scanned the area and wondered who those people were. I usually thought they were hippies having a drum fest, but as time went on I came to realize that it’s a group of people committed to bringing music to the park, and what fortune do we have that it’s at Griffith Park and not some far away location. Not only are they bringing music, but through them one connects to that grander beat that pumps through all the people that call this place home. The sounds truly represent the varied experiences that all have in this city and around the world, and in a way connects us to that time when we first heard the simple, but complex beats of a drum.

Listening to all the performers I was reminded of a Grateful Dead song “Playing in the Band.” The song talks about people of all walks of life that have existed, exist, and will exist. Yet the message of the song is that all of us in some way add our bit of beat to this life, our soul merges with the souls of all others and we make a chaotic choir and harmonic big band that extends wide out and up to outer space. Of course I’m going overboard, but it’s nice to know that on a nice Sunday afternoon we can go to the park and enjoy some of the music that our long past ancestors enjoyed on beautiful days like this past Sunday.


Friday, June 15, 2012

Aaron Coleman:Tattooer/Artist


Aaron Coleman: Tattooer/Artist
by Armando Ortiz
                I met Aaron a few years back while I was going around selling art books. It was in Phoenix, Arizona where I began to hear from other tattooers in that city that I needed to go to Immaculate Tattoo and meet Aaron. In my mind I figured that it must have been the place to go if you wanted to get some really good custom work done, I mean, if other shops were referring me to that shop then there must have been something there in the first place worthy of other’s respect and referral. I got to meet Aaron on my last day in Phoenix, and he did buy some books. After that I got to see his work on other people and after a couple of years of traveling and meeting many tattooers I became aware of the respect that he has garnered all across the country. When you meet Aaron, he does not seem like a guy that is highly respected in the industry that he is a part of. He comes across as a nondescript guy that really likes drawing and enjoys rock music. He's been tattooing for almost two decades and has been drawing and painting all his life. When you talk to him you really don’t know that you are talking to one of the more accomplished artists in the tattooing community.


                His work is prolific and his output is outstanding. He has self-published numerous art books, or what tattooers call flashbooks, and seems to have a never ending flow of ideas and drawings. He’s been an inspiration to many people, and a challenge to many others. His work speaks for itself and with his modesty it seems that he will only keep on getting better and more work will be coming out from him in the near future.


                The idea of the interview came about a few months back. I wanted to interview some of the people that I met during my travels and time as an art book seller. There are only a few artists out there that have the work ethic that he does, and even fewer people that have the modesty that he has, so why not show case his work and get to know more about him via a different avenue that isn’t tattoo related. Here is the interview. I hope you guys find it informative and insightful.

-Me: Are you willing to do a mini interview? Mostly about your art and paintings.

-Aaron: Sure, hope yer well. Good to hear from you. If you wanna send me money and books that works. I’m going to Rome in 4 weeks.

-Me: Rome, wow…..cool. When in Rome do as Romans. Let’s start this interview on line. It’s better, clear and to the point. Do you recall your first time drawing or painting?

Pushead
-Aaron: Me and my brother would sit around and draw bicycles and this guy riding a skateboard with his butt hangin out. They all said “ba on em” it stood for bare ass. I think it was t-shirts just a little head sticking out from a guy riding a skateboard. We were maybe 7 or 8.
                When I got into my early teens, around 13, I remember drawing skateboard graphics a lot and re-drawing a lot of the images of the first Suicidal Tendencies album cover.

-Me: Were there any particular artist in that field that got your attention, in terms of their designs? When did you start doing watercolor work?

-Aaron: Early on, I really liked Mad Magazines, skateboard art, Pushead is a stand out and Punk Rock art. Shawn Kerri and of course I always was into comics on some level. Kind of dorky kid, music and art always interested me.
Ralph Snart

-Me: Are there any comics in particular that stand out? In school did you take any art classes or get the attention of other classmates or teachers with your art?

-Aaron: There was a comic called Ralph Snart that I really liked. I was always a huge fan of Mad and Cracked, then when I was 17 years old or so I got heavily into Zap comics and discovered R. Crumb, Robert Williams, S. Clay Wilson, and all the underground stuff which led to guys like R.K. Sloane and Greg Irons and tattoo stuff. It’s all connected.

-Me: Did you ever take any art classes? I have an S. Clay Wilson book and inside there is a nun getting tattooed and above that image it says, “Immaculate Tattoo,” was her referring to your shop? If so, how did you manage to get him to draw that?

S. Clay Wilson's  Checkered Demon
-Aaron: I took some life drawing classes, nothing major. I always loved cartoons and illustration work. I met S. Clay Wilson through Ed Hardy when I was sitting in at Tattoo City. I got to hang with him a couple times at his house. He was really friendly and always tried to get me to smoke pot with him. He was a really nice guy and unfortunately had an accident a few years back and was in a coma for a while. Thankfully he came out of it but I don’t know if his drawing skills have completely returned or if they’ll ever be the same (referring to Wilson’s drawings). I really hope so, because he was hands down my favorite cartoonist.

                He told me some cool stories about him hanging with William S. Burroughs and shooting guns and drinking with Shane Macgowan. Interesting guy, interesting life, interesting style.

-Me: You got to work at Tattoo City? That must have been a great time for you as a tattoo artist. Interesting that you mention S. Macgowan. A few weeks back a local band here in L.A. covered some of their songs. I am not that familiar with Punk Rock or their scenes. I know that in some cities the scene was quite big, how about in Arizona? Was there a big Punk scene while growing up?

Back piece.



-Aaron: Punk Rock was one of the biggest influences while growing up. It shaped a lot of my views at the time, and exposed me to a lot of art, artists, and even to tattooing. I think in a lot of ways it was the last meaningful music movement as far as the first late-70s early-80s wave of it. Punk Rock now isn’t really Punk Rock. I was really fortunate to catch the very tail end of it in the early and mid-80s. I definitively think its part of what influenced me to take the path I did. It definitively introduced me to a lot of the things that I still visually enjoy as well as listen to.
                I’ve always been fortunate enough to work with really talented tattooers. It’s been a really great ride so far and I hope this is just the beginning.
-Me: Tell me a bit more about some of the things about Punk Rock that influenced you besides the art. Can you give some other examples?

-Aaron: I always liked the do it yourself, fuck you, part of it all. Back in the 80s if you saw some other kid wearing a Black Flag shirt you kinda just knew that they were into the same shit. You had a weird connection, shit was a lot rarer and it was kind of like you were superior, like you knew about something that was cool and other people were oblivious to! And most people that were tattooing were like that in the beginning too.  There was a connection and you were aware of something that was great and everybody else was oblivious to. Tattooing was like that in the beginning as well.

-Me: I once saw a poster that you had done at some shop. I am not sure if it was for a show or what but it was pretty cool. How long do pieces that size take to do? Tell me about your comic/cartoon that you once mentioned.

Robert Crumb's Mr. Natural
-Aaron: Not sure what poster. I did a lot of poster art for a little while for a local promoter who was a customer/friend of mine. He paid me well and I got to do some fun stuff, usually he’d ask when I was I was into the bands I did art for, like The Dwarves, TSOL, Hank 3, UK Subs, Jesus I don’t remember, but it was a good thing. Then these other tattooers would see em’ and hit the dude up to do em’ and they’d do em’ just to go to shows for free, and that was the end of that. I got to meet some good people though and I still got a few of em’.
                I always loved comics. Got into the Zap Comics stuff when I was in my teens, and it blew my mind. I wanted to be an adult comic artist, writer, illustrator like Greg Irons or R. Crumb and I loved S. Clay Wilson. Those things blew my mind. I did a comic with a friend of mine, Dave Leamon, who’s a great illustrator out in L.A., he has a website, check it out, but tattooin’ is my true love, once I went down that road everything else got set to the side. I’ve talked with my friend Tim Lehi about doin’ some stuff. Him and Jeff Rassier were doing a comic called Bucks Nort U Want to Do. That kind of thing is just hard for me to allocate the time these days.

-Me: Just for clarification, you wrote that the comic is called “bucks nort u want to do.” I once saw a painting that you made, I think it was yours, where Bush, Osama and Hitler are sorta emerging from the same source. How did you come up with that?

-Aaron: It was a last supper painting that kinda just came about around the time of the whole Osama Bin Laden/Bush was. Same shit different dictators. I guess it’s kinda out dated now.

-Me: How has the economy affected you as an artist? What does art mean to you?

-Aaron: The economy hadn’t really affected me too much, thankfully. Art is how I make my living and hopefully will for a long time.

We have come to the end of the interview. If you are interesting in knowing more about Aaron visit his website at www.immaculatetattoo.com. There you will find shirts, books and some more photos of his work. You can contact him directly at:
1454 W. Main Street, Suite #1,
Mesa Arizona 85201
(480) 668-4940

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Aldous Huxley's Crome Yellow and Roberto Bolano's 2666: On Society

No one pays attention to these killings, but the secret of the world is hidden in them.” Roberto Bolano, 2666, p.348

Aldous Huxley's Crome Yellow and Roberto Bolano's 2666: A Discussion on Society
By Armando Ortiz
A few months ago I met up with some old acquaintances for lunch and to catch up on life. Back in 2004, we had spent time in China traveling, studying and hanging out. Now it was 2011, and at some point in our conversation I told them about the author, Roberto Bolano and his last book, 2666, but then drifted to talking about Aldous Huxley's writings. I was not prepared to talk about the books or the authors, but for some reason I told them that they were worth reading. The brief dialogue left me wondering why they were important, but then the thought disappeared, and I went on with life.
Nevertheless, today while coming back from a long walk I was reminded why they are important. Something had triggered a memory that connected to what I had read in the recent past. As I walked, at a distance, there was a man riding on the back of an electric wheel chair. The driver was handicap, of course, but the man riding on it was not. The man on the back of the wheelchair had a dark blue sweater and stood on the batteries. Some of his hair fluttered, since the electric chair seemed to move at a stead 15 miles per hour. That reminded me of two things, one, a scene/story that I read in a book, and two, Profesor Morini, a character in 2666.
I couldn’t quite remember in what book the strange tale was in so, I wondered if it possibly had been Oscar Wilde’s last short story that I had read, but it wasn’t. I was tempted to stop and ponder, but I’m a multi-tasker, and figured it’d do me some good to seriously think for a bit and briskly walk. I tried remembering the title of the story, but failed to pin point the name. So I so I kept on with my power walk. Realizing it wasn’t Wilde I began to mentally retrace the story and thought about Huxley’s Point Counter Point, but it wasn’t that story because I’d never come across anything of Huxley’s that’s as dark as the story I was trying to remember, so I thought. Then it hit me, it was Huxley’s Crome Yellow.

About the authors:
          Aldous Huxley (1894-1963) was born in England and is best known for his novels Brave New World, Point Counter Point, Island, and numerous essays that touch on topics of culture, society, the human body, medicine and religion. At some point in his life he saw his house and everything in it burn to the ground. He continued to write all the way up to his last days. Though he is not widely discussed in our perspective society he’s had a significant impact on the way many of his readers approach life.
          Roberto Bolano (1953-2003) was born in Chile, but spent part of his life in Mexico, and briefly visited El Salvador before moving to Spain. There he had several odd jobs before having success with his writing. In between his travels, temporary jobs, and writing he became addicted to drugs, but managed to get himself clean. All throughout his time he managed to create a new literary circle which was labeled Infernal Realism, and though it was a short lived circle of writers, each took it upon himself to write in that newly created genre. His hugely successful Savage Detectives, Distant Star, and Nazi Literature in the Americas catapulted him to the top of the literary world and caught the attention of international critics all along going at his writing as usual. In between his writing he spent hours devouring the great writers and those unknown. He was a writer’s writer.

Why Huxley matters:
          In Crome Yellow there is a story that is told by one of his characters where a dwarf ends up inheriting the family house along with the family fortune. What was strange about the dwarf was not his size or the fact that everyone around him was regular sized. It was the manner he went about transforming everything around him to conform to his inner ideals and desires. His parents loved him and gave him the best education that was possible. Then his family began to die, making him thinking about his life and the legacy, if any, that would be left after he died. The dwarf’s preoccupation with marriage and having children made him start dating, but in his mind stature was a problem. For a time he dated a woman that was of normal height and they got along well, but that still didn’t satisfy him. He didn’t want to live in a world that reminded him of his short stature. So he paid a match maker to go out and look for a woman that was about his height and came from a respectful and decent household.
The matchmaker ended up finding a fair woman who also was also a dwarf, and soon she was brought back to the estate. They soon married and managed to live two years together without having children, since he was preoccupied with the fear of having regular sized kids or worse, dwarf kids. The man of the house went about reducing everything inside to fit their size. The tables and chairs were reduced in height, and the doors and beds as well. He also proceeded to slowly fire his servants and replace them with servant dwarfs. The couple also found ponies to replace the regular horses. By the time their first and only baby son was born the whole mansion and people living there had been transformed.
          The baby grew, and by the time he was a few months old they knew he would be a regular sized person. What had kept them from having children in the first place came to be. All the work that they had put into their house thinking that they’d live a dwarf’s life became a bit problematic. Nevertheless, the kid grew and went to school and by the time he was eight years old was as tall as his father. Instead of dealing with the problems the child would face living in a dwarf’s house, the parents decided to send him to boarding school. The kid’s primary and secondary education were spent studying somewhere else, but of course the kid returned home for the holidays and for summer vacation. As time passed, his visits and his attitude grew more and more aggressive towards them. He’d purposely broke things and mistreated the dwarf servants. The story continues to unfold and eventually leads to some very unfortunate and sad events, but I will let the reader finish the story themselves.
In the book, Huxley briefly mentions the Nazi, but this short story found in the novel Crome Yellow can be seen as an allegorical allusion to what the Nazi would do in the years to come. The Nazi government and everyone that took part in all the atrocities during World War Two tried to change their society to the extent that they began removing Jews from the general population, then the handicap, then gypsies, then homosexuals, and even then some Jehovah Witnesses. They were moved into ghettos and then into concentration camps to be separate from the German population initiating the attempt at the slow eradication of their populations.
The Nazi believed in a pure and strong race where every German idealized quality that was prized could be seen in its people. Yet, Huxley’s story begs a question- what if they would have been successful in their attempts, and they would have cleansed their society of every perceived ill or threat? Would evil and prejudice itself have disappeared from society? What would have become of their society? Would less criminal activity exist? Would prostitution have been eradicated? Would everyone have had equal access to goods and services? Would poverty have been wiped out? Would the violent and mentally ill no longer exist? Would the chronic poor no longer exist? Huxley points to the son that the two dwarves produced and says no. Human beings are too complex to define them as this or that. Yes, there are people that have different cultural backgrounds, but to have the certainty that by ridding society of certain groups of people for the sole reason that they have some marked difference or strange tradition will never be a valid reason to exterminate other humans. Though, of course, history is riddled with such events and not one piece of land on this earth has been immune to this reality. Instead of focusing on the things that mattered in life, the dwarf focused on changing things around him, though he could not control how his own son would grow up to be.
Trying to alter your surroundings in such a way that it meets your idealized vision of how the world should run will never work. Even today with all the technological advances that we have has proven that humans still need to go out and work, and be active or else they turn into something that disturbingly unnatural. One thing remains certain, and that is the randomness and serendipitous nature of life and human nature and the human spirit. Good and evil cannot be walled in or put into an ivory castle because no matter how good a society might be or think it is there will always be an element of evil and deviance in human nature. Huxley suggests that things ought to be left alone and that we ought to just live life. Living with the aim of being aware of what is going on in our society and being the change we want the world to be.


Why Bolano matters:
          An aspect of Roberto Bolano's 2666 is that he makes us see characters that we usually over look by presenting characters that are not your common every day folk. Of course, characters that are made up by writers will usually be out of the ordinary, though in this case it seems that Bolano has purposely chosen these characters to bring home his message. At times, society can also be oblivious to the life of their marginalized population. Huxley talks about changing our surroundings, while Bolano focuses on how our contemporary surroundings and the margins of society are affected by society at large. It is either society or the powers that be that create a collective amnesia, making us blind to what really is happening to our communities.

The electric wheel chair made me think of the short tale within Crome Yellow, but it also reminded me of 2666. A reason for thinking of Bolano's book was that one of the characters that he creates is the handicap professor Morini, who is an expert on the literature of the elusive German, Benno von Archimboldi. He also happens to be the chair of one of the academic circles that oversees which papers make into the academic journals. Morini seems to have an interest in outsider art and is particularly interested in the life of a marginal artist who at one point in his artistic career decides to cut off his hand and turn it into an art piece. In the novel, the artist briefly appears in a dialogue with the professor, and explains to him that the reason for chopping off his hand was for shock value and monetary gain.
          Bolano’s characters are people who we usually don’t think about and in many ways are the forgotten people of a community that is stereotyped. When we think about authors, when we think about experts, when we think about status or power we don’t consider the characters he writes about. The novel is riddled with writers of all sorts. These are struggling writers that are barely making ends meet, but they are publishing books and articles- though in small time publications. Life for these artists is tough, but they have committed themselves to the life of a writer.
Oscar Fate is an American from the east coast, and works for an African American magazine. Though he isn't big on writing investigative articles circumstances force him to explore the seedier side of Santa Teresa's criminal underworld. On one occasion he visits the training compound of a boxer and there he finds another black man that’s from Los Angeles and is working sparring partner. Though much isn’t said about him one gets the impression that he prefers Mexico to the US. There are several Chicano characters that appear in the novel. There is the writer, Josue Hernandez Mercado, who was born in Mexico, but raised on the US side of the border and works for a small community newspaper. The books he's written and published are a written in an unorthodox manner, with a strange mixture of Spanish and English, making him an intermediary character on the crossroads of two cultural fringes. A small time literary company from Texas has published two volumes of his poetry and two novels.
Though both these men never meet they take it upon themselves to uncover the murders and atrocities that are happening on the border city of Santa Teresa. Oscar manages to escape in time with Rosa, but it seems that Josue has been murdered. The person who picks up from where Josue left off is a Chicana writer from Phoenix, who is also a writer for a small time newspaper, Mary-Sue Bravo. All of these characters point to a larger and more serious issue. The problems of a society though intimately known by the marginalized ghetto dwellers will never get resolved and understood unless the powers that be take action and find practical solutions to the ills that affect the poor.
Bolano, being the clever author that he was, reveals that this might not be possible, because in the end it is the powerful that are letting the murder of women and the disappearance of males happen. Nevertheless, one of the broader themes that he deals with is precisely the life of the poor and wanderers who live on this earth. The over looked are left to fend for themselves and to find some type of concrete solution to their daily survival, which turns into fear of being involved in anything that might jeopardize their lives. Though there are crimes and violence being perpetuated in Santa Teresa it is mostly ignored and usually gets the attention of sensationalist magazines or simply too taboo to talk about the subject. It makes one wonder how many crimes really happen in marginalized areas of our contemporary cities that never get solved or get the attention they deserve. Witnesses to crimes prefer to run away so as to not get involved and be implicated in a crime. Cops and doctors rarely show up on time, preferring to let time pass so as not to have to go through the whole process of questioning people around or not hear anything that the dying victim might say.
It seems that there is an abundance of jobs in Santa Teresa, but not enough time to get stuff done, and not enough income; pay minimal at most or delayed at worst; to rest. There is a sense that people are able to sustain themselves, but not in the manner that is intended for humans to further develop ie socially, communally and culturally. There is also a constant influx of people into the city, partly due to its proximity to the border with the US, and due to the demand for cheap labor. In essence, the fictional city of Santa Teresa is representative of the pressures that developing nations confront in their societies. The need to make enough income to survive for the day, but also finding the ways and means to make ends meet.
Another example that he uses towards the end of the book is of the soldiers that are used to fight in the Russian front. Most of them are descendants of the very same German peasants that fought the wars of the powerful and returned to their hometowns maimed and handicap attempting to resume their “normal” peasant lives. Just like some of the cops that are members of the police force in Santa Teresa that come from the chronically poor parts of Mexico, and whom allegiances fluctuate between government officials and powerful narcos, both groups are given food, pay and gun to kill or protect higher ups. In the end these cops are also powerless.
Somehow, we are also accomplices to this problem, because ignore certain ills that exist in our perspective societies. At times we fail to see the big picture and the forces behind why people migrate and why the poor fight wars for their countries. Why is it easier for the media to talk about a girl that was kidnapped somewhere in the Mid-West, yet not talk about the numerous women that get disappeared in South Los Angeles? Why does a hot dog eating contest winner get more air time on television than a war veteran who’s returned from abroad? There are those that do look at the other side of life, the grimy and overlooked side, but those eyes are few and the voices have yet to reach the ears of the general population. The people that are out there trying to serve the underrepresented come across the characters that Bolano describes.

Conclusion
Both authors touch on subjects that are rarely discussed. In 1921, when a young Huxley wrote Crome Yellow one could only gather hints as to what would happen in Europe in the next few decades, yet he was able to embed his criticism of society within his writings and look ahead to the on coming problems. Eighty-three years later, when 2666 was published, Bolano, though no longer alive, managed to touch on many issues that are over look these days. Both point to something that ought to be considered when thinking about trivial matters such as the end of the world or humanity's collective destruction via nuclear war or some type of catastrophic religious or race war. As long as humans walk this earth the greatest concern and fear is not what might become of us, but of what we are now and have been for centuries - human. 
Metaphorically speaking cannibalism does exist in our societies, and everyday people are being exploited and used for economic and political gain, more specifically undocumented immigrants, the chronic poor and women. The machine continues to churn and devour those whose voice is not heard. In the past, concentration camps segregated certain segments of the community, which in turn were sent to gas chambers and pyres. In Europe, Jews were seen as expendable, and these days its people that are deemed illegal aliens and have no rights. There will always be oppressed and ignored people and those in power will try to rid themselves of the unwanted by using force or nowadays the media with its endless entertainment will create a collective stereotype and amnesia of people that lack political and economic power.
In the past, Empires exercised force, and everyone knew empire was being created at the expense of other societies. In the 20th century empire and conquest began to take a new shape, being that the media became more refined via film, radio, magazines and newspapers. During the first half of that century those in power knew what was going on and Huxley suggested that force and elimination of the unwanted solved nothing. Now, Bolano shows us where the ills of society are. People in the Americas know that the economy of the US is what moves us and that it dominates most economies in the Americas. Yet what happens to people outside of the US becomes the insignificant collateral damage of something that is beyond our present realities The Oscar Fates of the United states have no idea that we are benefiting from the fruits of the terrible exploitation of human and natural resources around the planet, but there comes a time when chance and time reveal these things, but the irony is that all around the world, the poor and marginalized, the invincible, are the ones who become keenly aware of the forces that affect the lives of other invisible populations. To them what happens in the streets in nothing new, but what was happening in Santa Teresa and is happening in real life in parts of Mexico is shocking.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Our Relationship with Animals and the Earth

Our relationship with Animals and the Earth

            I remember, a few years back, having a conversation with a friend. We talked about his experience visiting the Los Angeles Zoo. After walking around for a few hours and checking out some of the exhibits both he and his girl started to cry. The emotions the animals projected at the subconscious level resonated with him and opened their bodies to uncontrollable sobs. He could feel the sadness and see the loneliness that the animals experienced being locked up.
            In retrospect, I think that their experience might have been much deeper than that. I recall reading a short essay found in John Berger’s About Looking, which focuses on how contemporary society views animals. Since the later part of the 19th century humans began to sever their relationship with animals. Their presence on this earth began to take a more marginal role where they play the role of entertainers or performers, and where they are looked at and observed. Prior to these phenomenon animals were integral to the human psyche. Certain character traits were said to resemble a particular animals’. Animals were viewed differently than the way we view them today. Berger suggests that people viewed animals with a respect of the other, while the other in turn kept its distance, and ever since the traveling circus and the first city zoo things have drastically changed.
            If this type of perception was experienced with all the cultures of the world prior to the 19th century then the detachment of the natural environment of the animals that now live in zoos is similar to the detachment that we, as humans, have experienced with nature. Though one must not forget that those in power, whether it was in Meso-America, Mesopotamia, Greece or China always had a proclivity to have a private collection of wild animals, and it was exclusive only to them. Now almost every city has a public zoo and we no longer have a respect for the animals that live in their natural habitats, but instead treat them as a nuisance. The hunting of wild animals for centuries was seen as a sport, but a sport that also helped expand the boundaries of human habitation. During the Qing Dynasty the emperor would send men on horses to circle wide mountainous areas to flush out animals living in the area, and soon the games would commence. Now a days cattle owners worry about losing one cow to a dwindling pack of grey wolves or the over hunted coyote that still continues to spread further north. On the other hand we’ve come to point where every other animal that is out in nature is found, tranquilized, labeled with a mini radio transmitter or with a tiny brace, and let go. 
            These past years, I’ve come across several types of animal species, and through my travels managed to observe different types animals of which I never thought I’d get to see. Let’s just say that some of the eagles we hear about or even get to see in the zoos gave me an opportunity to appreciate and be in awe of nature’s majestic fabric. Growing up in Los Angeles, I was never fully aware of the abundant wild life that exists in this city. I have been fortunate enough to see opossums run down La Brea Blvd and have seen a liter of raccoons following their mother into the gutter, I wasn’t fully aware of what was out there, besides the scavengers. I had to travel out of the states and spend time in areas where wildlife is now just an afterthought, and things wild can only be found in zoos. A few years ago I was lucky to see a bobcat, though by the time I saw it I had already jetted myself into my car. Now I can look back and appreciate the fact that this particular animal was out in its natural habitat. Though we don’t know it our ears hear about 5-7 different species of birds a day in this city. Some don’t even realize that spotting a hummingbird is one of the greatest visual treasures of the Americas. Only in the Americas can this tiny little bird be seen.
            It’s a bit disappointing though that we have just about destroyed most of the natural environment of these animals, but at the same time we have given up our old ways of living for what we have today – dishwashers, concrete rivers, computers, nice green lawns and electronic toys. Sometimes old trees get cut because they take away from the value of a home. Nowadays, we spend about 2 hours on the road on a daily basis, stuck in traffic and weaving through slow moving cars. We have 24 hour stores and refrigerators that keep everything “fresh,” but what have we given up for all this progress? What we have deemed progress might very well be our acceleration to destruction. So it is not surprising that when we are not “on” something we are not consciously aware of the fact that animals living in a zoo are living a reality that is just as unnatural as people going to the 24 hour supermarket to buy a frozen pizza. It is a complete disconnection with nature and our real being. Our sub-consciousness might be in great suffering at this very moment and crying as much as my friend did that day, though we might not know it. We have all been conceived from the very thing we alter every day, earth.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

The Odyssey: Hospitality Among the Ancient Greeks





The Odyssey: Hospitality Among the Ancient Greeks

by Armando Ortiz     

The Odyssey was written around three thousand years ago. It is believed that the author of the epic story was called Homer; he was the first to have written the oral story. The book is about the trials that Odysseus, a main character in the story experiences, goes through as he tries to go back home to Ithaca. After taking part in the great Trojan War, which lasted thirteen years, he begins the journey. On his trip home, the nymph Calypso takes him captive holding him captive on her for seven years. Eventually, he is set free, and given provisions to go back home. After a couple of skirmishes with other people and other gods, he finally lands on Ithaca. There he defeats the men who have been leeching of his estate, and finally reunites with his wife Penelope.


The epic tale contains many moral stories that can be used to teach a lesson or give an idea of what upright characters ought to have. An idea that is explored throughout the story is hospitality. In the Odyssey, hospitality is given to a person who is wandering through town or in need of help. The person is taken inside the house of the host, where he or she is fed until satisfied, then given a place where to sleep. When the person decides to leave, a gift is given to take along their trip, usually food was given upon departure. One might wonder why hospitality is given to strangers in need. According to the Odyssey, Zeus is among strangers. Zeus protects the weak, and makes it a duty for people to be hospitable to persons in need or else there will be consequences.

To understand Greek society we must understand the significance of the book. The Odyssey gives a glimpse and describes how Greek society might have been during the eighth century B.C..  Many books have influenced modern society, one of which being the Bible, yet one cannot claim that that book describes everything that we do, such as traditions once followed, but the moral stories or ideas it offers can give us a window from which to understand our society. The Odyssey serves this purpose also. In Greek times, the Odyssey was part of its oral traditions and literature, and was used to teach character and morals; festivals and traditions were held according to customs. It had a strong influence over society. In the Odyssey, hospitality is something very important, because the author directly associates the stranger, beggar, or visitor to the Greek god Zeus. For example, “this man is an unfortunate wanderer who has strayed here…we must look after him, since all strangers and beggars come under the protection of Zeus, and to such people a small gift can mean much,” (p.91). “…. For strangers and beggars all come in Zeus’ name,”  (p. 209). “Zeus, the Strangers’ god, whose wrath is aroused by deeds of cruelty (p. 215).” The Greeks had many gods, but the father of all the gods and mortals was Zeus. He is described as being the god of thunder, the host of host, and the god of strangers. Since Zeus protected strangers, it would not favor the person who mistreated a stranger, that is why it was important for a person to welcome a stranger into the house and treat him with hospitality. It was believed that Zeus would lead a stranger to a person’s house, “god has brought you to my door, my long suffering friend,” (p. 218).

Hospitality is described as offering your house to some stranger or person who is in need, usually they are fed, bathed before departing, and are given many gifts when the time comes to leave. When Odysseus was wandering a young lady saw him and said, “give him food and drink, girls, and bathe him in the river where there is shelter from the wind,” (p. 91). When Odysseus was disguised as a beggar, his servant, who did not know it was Odysseus, “invited him (Odysseus) to sit down on some brushwood that he piled up for him and covered with the shaggy skin of a wild goat, large and thick, which served as his own mattress,” (p. 208). In the story people tend to be hospitable out of reverence to Zeus. Being the host of host, Zeus would bring about disaster to any one who would not treat a guest generously.

When Telemechus is about to sail home, an escaped criminal comes up to him and asks him to give him refuge. Telemechus answered, “I shall certainly not bar you from my good ship, if you wish to sail with us, come along then; and in Ithaca you shall be welcomed to such hospitality as we can offer,” (p.231). Others took pleasure in being hospitable to their guests. Alcinous, king of the Phaeacians, went as far as to sacrifice a dozen sheep, eight white-tusked boars, and two shambling oxen, so that Odysseus could eat. The King put on a show for Odysseus, he let him see some sport competitions. The king also gave him bronze gifts, provisions, wine, bread and clothes, he also ordered Odysseus’ ship to be polished. “When they had come down to the ship and the sea, the young nobles who were to escort him took charge of his baggage, including all of the food and drink, and stowed it in the polished ship,” (p.195).


Other times people were treated badly, but in the book there are punishments waiting for those who mistreat others. For example, the way Polyphemus treats Odysseus and his crew, when they land on his island. Polyphemus, a Cyclops, does the opposite of being hospitable. Instead of feeding them and letting them stay for a couple of days, he eats some of the crewmen. Odysseus tells Polyphemus, “He (Zeus) is the god of guests: guests are sacred to him, and he goes alongside them,” (p. 132). Cyclops did not realize what was about to happen to him. Zeus punishes him for mistreating Odysseus and his crew, and makes Odysseus gauge his eye with a stake, leaving him blind. The book, after careful analysis, makes you realize that being hospitable to your guest is very important. The same happens to the Suitors.


The Suitors have been in the home of Odysseus for sometime, eating and courting his wife Penelope. When Odysseus finally arrives on Ithaca, he disguises himself as a beggar, and goes home. He spots the Suitors and begins to beg for food. Instead of feeding him and offering a place to stay, the Suitors begin to mock and throw things at him. Hospitality is important, not because the stranger demands it, but because Zeus is protecting him and expects it. Zeus punishes the Suitors for not being hospitable, and Odysseus slaughters the Suitors. The old saying is correct, do not bite the hand that feeds you. The Suitors had been eating food that was not theirs, and despite that they were unwilling to share it with the owner.

This is how Greek society might have been during the time of Homer. Hospitality is something that is essential to our daily lives, as it was back three thousand years ago. When we see homeless people in the street today and do not care to think of their situation; begging in corners, and on the streets. Many people shun them because they ask for money. The Bible teaches that when we help someone in need, we are not helping the person but helping Christ. It also says, “ anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins.” Hospitality is something that is morally correct but is not practiced by many. People claim that homeless people are lazy, criminals, and drug addicts, yet they have never talked to a homeless person. Some homeless cannot work because they are mentally ill, and others who have had traumatizing experiences in their lives. One day I met a man, who had graduated from Cal State San Bernardino with a bachelors in history back in the 1960s, but was drafted into the army and sent to fight in Vietnam. Another time I met another person who had come from West Virginia to work in construction, but life took a turn for the worse. These two people have had tough life experiences that have disabled them from being capable of living a normal life. It is true that there are those who are lazy, but it is better to give than to receive.

The Odyssey has good insights, as to how Greeks viewed and practiced hospitality, they knew it was important and I think that is why they associated Zeus with the needy and strange. It is no wonder that in the Odyssey there are many different examples of hospitality. It is so that the listener and eventually the reader could somehow see that ultimately we are in debt to the creator of this world, and a small way of repaying him is through helping those in need. Much is given, much is expected.