30 November 2011

Gratitude

Ric and I have been watching the most obscenely addictive series called “Spartacus: Blood and Sand” and “Spartacus: Gods of the Arena”. As the title intimates, the series centers on the life of Gladiators in ancient Rome. It’s as stylized as “300” and as thematically epic as “Gladiator”. It’s definitely not “high-brow” and is basically a continuous onslaught of gratuitous violence, sex and talking-in-the-third-person but, oh my, it’s so much fun.


I guess my impartiality towards the show was slightly hindered by Andy Whitfield who played Spartacus (read: drool). I’ve been really sad (way too sad given that I don’t know Andy Whitfield) to find out that he died in September this year after losing his battle with non-Hodgkin lymphoma. It's frightening that someone who seems to be in the peak of his life and health is still, fundamentally, so fragile. What a waste of talent. And beauty. Damn. On another note, Xena is in the series (not as Xena of course, but for those of us who grew up in the nineties, Xena will never be anything other than Xena). I think some strange boyhood fantasy of Ric's was realized when he got to see Xena's boobies.

Andy Whitfield
Xena Warrior Princess
Xena sneaky under-cover Warrior Princess


histoire en images





Surfaced

The work by Fred Clarke, which we bought a few weeks ago at the Satellite Spaces exhibition, arrived just over a week ago.

Verdict?

Worth every single cent.
I couldn’t have asked for anything better.
It will have a loving and appreciative home.

{the photo does it no justice}


29 November 2011

baroness.barreness


“But the hearts of small children are delicate organs. A cruel beginning in this world can twist them into curious shapes. The heart of a hurt child can shrink so that forever afterward it is hard and pitted as the seed of a peach. Or again, the heart of such a child may fester and swell until it is a misery to carry within the body, easily chafed and hurt by the most ordinary things.”
Carson McCullers

Verdict

“It’s crazy that the idea of animal rights seems crazy to anyone. We live in a world in which it’s conventional to treat an animal like a hunk of wood and extreme to treat an animal like an animal”…

I finished reading “Eating Animals” by Jonathan Safran Foer about two weeks ago. Possibly the best non-fiction book I’ve ever read, definitely the toughest book I’ve ever read. Whichever way you approach it, a book about eating animals is never going to be an easy read and I often had to force myself to pick it up again- it would have been exceedingly easy to put it down for good. The book is well written, well researched and well thought out- as was to be expected. What surprised me however, was the multiplicity of viewpoints, philosophies and practical approaches raised for and against, eating animals. I like to think that I’m pretty well-versed with the state of animal farming in South Africa and abroad- factually I am- but I’d never really considered the philosophy and motive(s) behind it all, other than having a strong (but vaguely articulated) aversion to equating animals with goods. This book was an education and a revelation.

To be honest, I’m still undecided as to whether I’m opposed to the use of animals for food in and of itself or whether I’m opposed to the epidemic of commercial animal factory “farms” which are the antithesis of traditional (read: practically extinct) farming and animal husbandry methods- the arguments voiced for both positions are really convincing. One case study is that of a vegan (yes vegan) beef farmer whose primary concern is for the welfare of animals during their lifetime, her reasoning being that she would rather be part of the animal husbandry process, by providing an alternative to factory farming, than opt-out altogether and allow corporations to proliferate their torture and abuse. Then you get the animal rights (as opposed to welfare) argument which opposes the exploitation of animals for any purpose whatsoever.

Foer doesn’t impose any view on you. I was simultaneously relieved and challenged by this- he gives you the facts but the decision is your own, which is a lot of responsibility. In the end, that’s what the book is about. Taking responsibility. I have a friend who has said on numerous occasions that the real test for a vegetarian is whether or not they eat “meat” flavoured chips. I’d never quite understood the logic of such a “test” but my friend has always propounded this theory with such confidence and conviction that I thought there had to be a grain of truth in it. When asked why I don’t eat meat, my standard response has always been that I’ve never really liked it. It’s amazing how quickly this will suffice for a valid answer. During the course of reading the book I realized that I’ve used this answer as a means of avoiding confrontation and the underlying topic. In its own way, it shirked responsibility from me in that I never really “decided” not to eat meat, I just didn’t “like” the taste of it. What I realized is that eating meat is a choice that people make each day between complicity and responsibility. Between two different types of gratification - immediate (read: I feel like a burger) versus delayed (read: even though I feel like a burger and miss the taste of meat a fuck-load, I refuse to ignore and shirk responsibility for what happened to this animal before it became a patty on a burger).

I feel that everyone should be duty-bound to read this book regardless of whether they are vegan, vegetarian or a meat-eater. This book isn’t a sermon. It’s an education.

P 90 Eating Animals:

            “The first time I was exposed to farming issues was when a friend showed me some films of cows being slaughtered. We were teenagers, and it was just gross-out shit, like those “faces of Death” videos. He wasn’t a vegetarian-no one was vegetarian- and he wasn’t trying to make me one. It was for a laugh.
            We had drumsticks for dinner that night, and I couldn’t eat mine. When I held the bone in my hand, it didn’t feel like chicken, but a chicken. I always knew I was eating an individual, I suppose, but it never hit me before. My dad asked me what was wrong, and I told him about the video. At that point in my life, I took whatever he said to be the truth, and I was sure he could explain everything. But the best he could come up with was something like “It’s unpleasant stuff”. If he’d left it there, I probably wouldn’t be talking to you now. But then he made a joke about it. The same joke everyone makes. I’ve heard it a million times since. He pretended he was a crying animal. It was revealing to me, and infuriating. I decided then and there never to become someone who told jokes when explanations were impossible.”

P92 Eating Animals:

            “These factory farmers calculate how close to death they can keep the animals without killing them. That’s the business model. How quickly can they be made to grow, how tightly can they be packed, how much or little can they eat, how sick can they get without dying.
            This isn’t animal experimentation, where you can imagine some proportionate good at the other end of the suffering. This is what we feel like eating. Tell me something: Why is taste, the crudest of our senses, exempted from the ethical rules that govern our other senses? If you stop and think about it, it’s crazy. Why doesn’t a horny person have as strong a claim to raping an animal as a hungry one does to killing and eating it? It’s easy to dismiss that question but hard to respond to it. And how would you judge an artist who mutilated animals in a gallery because it was visually arresting? How riveting would the sound of a tortured animal need to be to make you want to hear it that badly? Try to imagine any other end other than taste for which it would be justifiable to do what we do to farmed animals.”


10 November 2011

Surfacers

So, last night I went to the closing of the “I AM NOT YOU” exhibition curated by Satellite Spaces /// The Untitled Gallery. The space for this exhibition was The Mills situated at 66 Carr Street, Newtown. The exhibitions feature numerous established and emerging artists from different artistic backgrounds. Mediums vary from digital media to print, to photography to paint, to lithographs.

I had my reservations about going only because I’m flat broke and I knew this would prove an irresistible opportunity to buy a quality piece of art. As is to be expected, the opportunity arose and the impulse was irresistible. Enter Frederick Clarke and his “Surfacers”- love, and overall disquiet, at first sight. It reminds me so much of Penny Siopis’ “Pinky Pinky” series she did a few years back. Despite the two figures’ creepiness, there is a softness in their eyes and a vulnerability in their demeanour. I don’t know what they are, human or animal or a combination, but I feel protective of the figures- they force me to confront "otherness" and push me out of my comfort zone. Unsurprisingly, I continued to have a visceral reaction to the work as I strolled by it again and again.

I’ve wanted to start collecting (serious) art for a long time now but perpetually make up excuses for not buying a piece (read: forking out the cash-although I guess that the R120 000 for the Gerard Sekoto painting and the R70 000 for the Diane Victor sketch, was a bit unfeasible at this stage). Anyway, in consultation with and in partnership with Ric (read: his forking out 50% towards the price as a Christmas present) I took the plunge and purchased my first authentic (read: credible upcoming artist, non-copy, only one in existence) piece of art.

I was speaking to a friend of mine this morning and she said that when her dad was about my age he bought his first piece of art from a young and upcoming artist called William Kentridge (read: wtf?!) So, although I bought this piece out of love, striking gold on an investment opportunity would be a pretty sweet off-shoot. 

I'm so happy I finally took the plunge (read: pics to follow...)               

03 November 2011

Chanson du jour

“I walk you home to see
Where you're living around
And I know this place
Pour yourself on me
And you know I'm the one
That you won't forget

And in your denim eyes
I see something's awry
And I see you're weak
When he comes around
I see you're fixing to shine
And my face won't speak”




01 November 2011

World Vegan Day

I've been a Vegetarian since 2003 and towards the end of 2009 I started phasing out dairy, egg and fish. It's been a tough process and I've regressed many times. It's not easy being Vegan- products you would never imagine to contain dairy or egg seem to have them included just for sake's "sake", which just goes to prove the point that their inclusion is gratuitous and entirely redundant. I've slowly become aware that being Vegetarian, while a noble effort, isn't the end but merely the means. The conditions in which dairy cows/goats and poultry are kept (yes, even so-called "free range")(unless you are talking about the one and only Jimmy's Farm) is deplorable. The greatest lesson I've learnt over these past few years is that complacency is complicity. And the fact that I'm aware of what's going on means that I cannot trigger that selective acknowledgment that we humans are so good at. 

In honour of World Vegan Day I'm going to read "Eating Animals" by Jonathan Safran-Foer. While he will be preaching to the converted, it will be an educational read which will probably help me to engage in more eloquent debate with those who look at me either as if I have a disability or react with outright hostility when they find out I'm a vegan. On the same note, my hope is that I'll be able to handle such reactionists without looking at them as if they are disabled (mentally,spiritually and developmentally) or with blood-chilling hostility. So any way you look at it, it will be a good read. 

What I love about the title of this book is that it calls a spade or spade. The question which keeps turning around in my mind (with increasing intensity) is what is "meat". I'm perpetually hearing people talk about "meat". They're eating butchered animal. Not meat. I'm hoping this book will showcase the irrational disjuncture between reality and the bullshit we are fed (literally). Its insane the extent to which simple "Semantics" facilitates and enables denial.