mr200316 What did you do during the war, Grandpa? Reflections of a first responder
He considers himself an outsider, one of a minority of people who
respond to stimuli before other people. It’s not that he’s smarter or has
better reflexes; on the contrary, he confesses that he tests badly in
conventional schemes, is poor at math and sp…
Before I answer, what kind of war is this?
The corona virus is on the attack – not at the command of a human commander
or cohorts of a terrorist group. The war on corona virus is like no real war
humanity has faced, although it is labeled a pandemic and is compared to past
ravaging killers of humanity.
Leaders compare it to war when they speak to the public. The public, however,
the masses, are slow to respond. The leaders are the first responders. They
sound the alarm, like someone who spots a fire first. They are, for some
reason, able to respond first.
I call the ability to respond, “response-ability.” Responsibility is what
comes both from the ability to respond and the guts to do it – to respond.
Unfortunately, first responders are often frustrated because they are the first
to point out an emerging problem. Few believe them. No guts.
Masses of people can respond to a fire, but a first responder calling for
everyone to respond to a corona virus - which cannot be seen - is liable to be
met with naysayers. First responders are, for whatever reasons, outliers. The
medical leader who explains what he or she sees and understands to be an act of
war was always a first responder.
An example is in the story of the first responder in China.
History tells of first responders who raised their hands during their
school years and how they were put down – either by the other students or the
teacher or both. “The nail that sticks up gets hammered,” came to me from a
Japanese artist when he contrasted Japanese thinking to the freedom he saw in
my teaching in an American university.
Reflecting on this, I can say that the saying is true in the United States,
too. In fact, it’s universal – from China to Seattle, for all time; but in a
country of plenty, like the US appears to be, emergencies are fewer,
constraints are less, and it doesn’t matter if a nail sticks up. People can
ignore it. There’s room for error.
That Japanese artist, Akira Kurosaki, met me (and taught me) for only one
reason. That was the singular fact that I was experimenting with electronics. I
was using video as if one might make something like art with TV. We – the students
who were first responders, too – met in a closed-circuit TV studio and, in the
afternoon, we worked in a printmaking studio.
Akira Kurosaki - 1980 woodcut print, gift to B. Ritchie
I was hired to teach printmaking. I wasn’t supposed to teach video art. I
stuck up. If I had not been doing this, Kurosaki would probably met me. True, I
was part of the printmaking division at the UW School of Art, and he was on a
teaching mission as a printmaker. As it was, he – being a first responder
himself – was interested in video before he met me.
“You’re already doing what I dreamed of doing in my university in Kyoto!”
he said. It was 1974.
The war against ignorance
Yes, there is a war against the corona virus, but it is more accurately a
battle. The war is against ignorance, that real killer in people. I don’t mean
people are basically ignorant, or any more deeply ignorant than I am. In fact,
those who hammered me all my life were smarter about conventions than I was –
or am.
For example, did I not get fired from teaching, eventually, for aberrant
thinking that video could be an art tool? Did I not get fired for proposing
reform of the printmaking division so students could extend printmaking and
study electronic arts for artmaking? True, I got hammered. I was a first
responder. I saw that the students in my classes in 1980 needed equipage to
strive and thrive in the 21st Century. I thought emergency measures
were needed. I responded. I acted. First.
I couldn’t articulate and convince the leadership in the 1980’s that we
needed to link printmaking to the media because print is the ancestor of
photography, film, video, telephony and computer graphics, i.e., multimedia.
Printmaking is part of the genetic code of, for example, video games. Today I
advocate blending the algorithms of gaming to teaching printmaking. Another
first response. I act, too. Every day, on my intent to teach printmaking by
MOOC.
In putting this on my blog, I'm MOOC-ing, one might say.
Today, while on-site schools are shutting down, I am watching, from the
sidelines, printmaking teachers using computers, cameras, online channels to
teach printmaking online. It was this possibility that I witnessed in 1980
when the UW hospital in Seattle – a teaching hospital –used microwave to beam medical
procedures to Omak, Alaska.
My video art students were making video art in the same room where, in the
hour previous, medical practitioners and electronic engineers were huddling to
design ways to get their teaching through the airwaves – via a system dubbed Washington Educational Network (WETNET).
Screenshot: Carl Chew and Scott Milzer in "Theory of Gravity" videomade in video art class, the University of Washington hospital studios, 1974.
No comments:
Post a Comment