All That Glitters is Not Gold

One of the early concepts for the opening ceremony of the Olympics in Beijing (北京) considered incorporating the work of artist artist Cai Guo-Qiang. He is noted for his "fireworks painting" – where he draws the outline of a picture with gun-powder and then ignites the powder, creating a three-fold painting effect --"original painting," "fireworks painting" and "ash painting”.

The design team tested their idea out by selecting Picasso's Guernica, an oil painting condemning war atrocities. Performers stepped into a huge remake of the frame, poured gun-powder along the lines of the painting it enclosed, and thus turned it into a line drawing of Guernica. They then ignited the gunpowder from one corner of the painting; the fire soon spread to the entire piece, burning an outline of the artwork into the surface, and leaving behind beautiful ashes in the same shape.

However, the International Olympic Committee rejected the concept, as Picasso's Guernica might rightfully remind the spectators of war, not peace, thereby subtly communicating a truth they chose not to unveil to the masses. Additionally, the Chinese creative design team questioned the reliability and safety of the artform and were not prepared to experience embarrassment on the global stage. Therefore, after continuing to pursue this concept for half a year, they pursued other creative ideas designs for the opening ceremony.

It is sadly ironic that the initial concept of using Guernica was abandoned, for as millions throughout the world watched the opening ceremony of the 2008 Olympic games Russia and Georgia veered closer to all-out war, Mauritania experienced a coup which overthrew the democratically elected president, Pakistan continued their constitutional crisis that threatens its increased instability in the nuclear-armed state, and the remainder of the world continued with its interminable fighting and injustices that have become the “norm.”

The Chinese made inspired choices in their Olympic opening ceremony design team-- Zhang Yimou as artistic director and Zhang Jigang and Chen Weiya were selected as deputy artistic directors, Yu Jianping as director of the technology group and Lu Jiankang, production director. Anyone who watched the performance could not but be impressed by the sophistication, elegance, and state of the art technology used to produce the show. The lighting, music and human performances were meticulously coordinated; at times it was easy to forget that one was witnessing a spectacle extravaganza that was being delivered from a third world nation.

Early in the evening, I called a dear friend to remind her that the ceremony was about to begin. To my amazement, she announced that her husband was going to be watching “Hellboy” on their television instead. The Olympics from Beijing versus a movie? I couldn’t believe the choice he was making. However, I wonder in retrospect if he made the wiser decision based upon history.

The Games of the XI Olympiad were held in 1936 in Berlin, Germany. The German government saw the Olympic Games as an opportunity to promote their ideology, particularly its promotion of the superiority of the "Aryan Race"; Adolf Hitler used the Olympics as a tool for propaganda.

While reflecting upon the exquisite pageantry of the Olympic Opening Ceremony at Bird’s Nest Stadium in Beijing, I recalled that Dr. Jeffrey Seagrave , Professor of Exercise Science, Dance, and Athletics, at Skidmore College. wrote a fascinating essay on 1936 Berlin Olympics that includes a brief examination of how even the architecture played into the propaganda machine. Check it out at: http://hnn.us/articles/6875.html

When we consider how Hitler used the Olympics to imaginatively sway public opinion and promote his political agenda, is this any different than the Chinese using the opening of the 29th Olympic Games for similar ambitious purposes?

Let’s look at the basics of the four-hour show. It consisted of two parts: the first half, entitled "Brilliant Civilization," highlighted the past 5,000 years of Chinese civilization, and the second half, "Glorious Era," focused on the great achievements and portrayed the Chinese as a nation seeking to building harmonious relationship with the people of the world.

Of course, it was flawlessly executed with great artistic beauty within a framework of a Chinese scroll, on which performers demonstrated the development of Chinese culture through time.

On this high-tech stage, "moveable type printing," "Confucius' 3,000 disciples," "The Analects of Confucius," "Zheng He's ocean voyages" and "Chinese ritual music" were artfully synchronized and showcased. I particularly appreciated how the opening was orchestrated with the use of Fou drums and thousands of drummers, designed to impress, as well as to initiate a form of biofeedback perhaps of which only musicians, magicians or advertising agents would be acutely aware. Truly the entire performance from start to end was a stunning display of pyrotechnics and pageantry.

It is unfortunate yet interesting that 5,000 years of Chinese history all under the direction of Zhang Yimou, whose early films often ran afoul of government censors for their blunt portrayals of China's human rights problems, blatantly skipped modern historical events such as Chairman Mao’s ascent, the horrors of Tian'anmen Square massacre, and the more recent conflicts and controversies of note.

Too often, society has forgotten the power of art and its ability to move and inspire. Yet, it is far to easy to be distracted by beauty when we are immersed in an environment that begs us to examine the realities of injustice and suffering. Richard Mandell addressed the Berlin Olympic ceremonial as "an obscuring layer of shimmering froth on a noxious wave of destiny."

Perhaps those of us who watch and or report on the 2008 Summer Olympic games should heed the words of George Santayana, “Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.”

All Things Bright and Beautiful

Words are ghosts that will come back to haunt you, or so I quickly learned after I had been interviewed by a reporter with the BBC. She had been referred to me from a friend, who had declined the interview, and prior to sitting down with the tape recorder, we chatted seemingly aimlessly, developing a good rapport with each other. To my surprise, when the actual interview was conducted on tape, the reporter introduced a topic we had spoken about earlier; this took me off-guard especially as I didn’t want to share my answer with the world at large. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised, as both “rapport” and “report” share a Latin etymological root meaning “to bring or carry back.”

I recalled this exceptionally educational and embarrassing experience when I read an essay in the New York Time’s Sunday Book Review. The paragraph that triggered my memory follows:

“ Mark Haddon, who wrote numerous novels for children before The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, said in an e-mail message that he recalled 'a number of people looking down their noses at me when I explained what I did for a living, as if I painted watercolors of cats or performed as a clown at parties.' "

In the interest of full disclosure, I must confess that I have never read a single book by Mark Haddon, yet I question his ability to choose words wisely when writing. Perhaps he felt an email gave him the luxury to sling words fast and furious, without any thought of the import or meaning behind them. I suspect his comments referencing artists who paint watercolors of animals, cats in particular, are words that may come back to haunt him. Why? The art history chronicles are filled with the names and works of esteemed artists who have painted cats, both in watercolor and in other mediums, so perhaps Mr. Haddon might want to re-think his analogy.

One of the treasures in the British Museum is by a no lesser-talented artist than Leonardo Da Vinci included a drawing of a cat sitting with the Christ Child on the lap of the Madonna in his Virgin and Child with Cat . (AD 1478-81) Unfortunately, no painting of this study has survived or been subsequently discovered, although Rembrandt later was inspired to create an etching also entitled Virgin and Child with a Cat. (1654).

Other artists, such as Matisse, Goya, and Manet painted cats using their own particular style to capture the essence of the animal. Henri Matisse’s Girl with A Black Cat, was completed in 1910, and is presently in private collection.

Even Pierre-Auguste Renoir and Pablo Picasso shared an affection for cats, as evidenced by the number of paintings and drawings both artists created that included felines. Similarly, Theophile Alexandre Steinlen, the esteemed Swiss illustrator and collaborator of Emile Zola and Toulouse-Lautrec, is noted for his highly collectible paintings, posters and sculptures of cats.

One of my favorite paintings by Pierre Bonnard , a member of Les Nabis, can be found in the Musée d'Orsay, Paris. Characteristic of his colorful narrative paintings of interiors, the cat’s presence acts as an animated distinction to the immobility and calmness of his wife, Marthe.

Recently I discovered the work of the Key West Artist, Bill Borough whose website is http://www.keywestwatercolors.com . His realistic watercolor paintings focus on the buildings found in Key West, including Audubon House, the home of John James Audubon, the world-renown ornithologist, and at the house located at 1431 Duncan Street, generally known as Tennessee Williams' House. More relevant, however, to this discussion, Bill Borough has skillfully captured one of the felines lurking at the lovely Spanish Colonial house previously owned by Ernest Hemingway.

True diplomacy, like great art, involves having the sense to know how to express ideas succinctly and to restrain from the tendency to speak without knowledge of one’s subject, always opting to remain silent, when appropriate. Therefore, like a cat, I’ll now opt to remain silent and hope that the next time a writer addresses a wider audience, words are chosen wisely instead of in dismissive haste.

Art, Ethics, and Honor Amongst Thieves

"William Blake is damned good to steal from! "--Henry Fuseli

Earlier today I was faced with an ethical quandry. One of the e-groups I lurk upon had a post by a professor of Art History at an American university. She posted this message:

Dear All,

Here's a photograph and artist's statement of a Sofiia icon that one
of my students made through a difficult print-making process on raw
silk in 16 plate layers. The photograph doesn't do this piece
justice, but I love her interpretation of what Wisdom is and how to
portray it. The dominant color after all the layers were laid down
is a soft of warm lavender-grey (maybe jasper is the best descriptor).

Just thought you'd like to see it.


When I followed the link she had provided, I was astonished to recognize the work was plaigerized from a painting of Mary Magdalene by Richard Stodart that had been created in 1995 and has been widely distributed via the internet on various websites. How does one respond to this, especially when you consider we are considering the issue of grades as well as professional ethics?

As far back as 2001, issues of intellectual property and artistic license were discussed on the internet. In an article published by Wired, entitled Is It Art, or Memorex?, Reena Jana offered these key pieces of information:

"The laws aren't black and white. The nuance lies in the real purpose of the artwork using the borrowed images," said Barry Werbin, a partner at Herrick, Feinstein, a Manhattan law firm in which he heads a department focused on intellectual property and the Internet.

"If someone borrows an image and uses it non-commercially for educational purposes, then it's fair use," Werbin said. "But if an artist does so without permission to promote their own work, there's no question it's an infringement."

So, does that excuse the student's theft of the image? I'd suggest not, firstly as she promoted it as her own work, even if the medium used differed from the original piece of work. Secondly, it would be my contention that the understanding "educational purposes" would apply to the use of the image by the instructor and not the clandestine theft by the student. Most universities and educational institutions have established, and sometimes enforced, policies with regard to plaigerism, including use of intellectual property /ideas. Students are made aware that if an instructor can demonstrate the student has purloined material, the culprit will be dealt with appropriately by the institution.

As a friend reminded me, character and talent are two distinct entities. While we seek to enjoy creative expression within the arts, it is increasingly rare to discover talent teamed with innovation, for that is the essence of artistic genius. Art shows and galleries showcase works of art that are often nothing more than derivative pieces of work. One might quickly suggest that imitation is the greatest form of flattery, but any art that is produced as a "copy" should be noted as such and proper credit attributed.

In the case of the student, the instructor hadn't taken the students to a museum to "copy" a masterpiece and learn from the experience. Instead, the student quite simply had plaigerized the work and apparently believed no one would be the wiser. [According to Black's Law Dictionary, the definition of plaigerism is "The act or instance of copying or stealing another's words or ideas or attributing them as one's own."(Black's Law Dictionary, West Group, 1999, 7th ed., p. 1170) ]

Jonathan Lethem published a noted article in Harpers, entitled "The ecstasy of influence: A Plagiarism" in response to Something Borrowed, an earlier article on the topic that was published in the New Yorker. Lethem's article deftly points out the thin line between influence and plagiarism. I have heard it argued at even Picasso and Matisse "copied" the works of others, and Andy Warhol would likely be the recipient of a litigious suit in our society if he were to offer his paintings in today's market.

In the 14th century, Petrarch answered these "justifications" and offered wisdom concerning plaigerism, although his focus was on the written word:

"He who imitates must have a care that what he writes be similar, not identical . . . and that the similarity should not be of the kind that obtains between a portrait and a sitter, where the artist earns the more praise the greater the likeness, but rather of the kind that obtains between a son and his father . . . we (too) should take care that when one thing is like, many should be unlike, and that what is like should be hidden so as to be grasped only by the mind's silent enquiry, intelligible rather than describable. We should therefore make use of another man's inner quality and tone, but avoid his words. For the one kind of similarity is hidden and the other protrudes; the one creates poets, the other apes."
-- Petrarch, Le familiari, XXIII (14thc), quoted in Gombrich, E.H. Norm and Form: Studies in the art of the Renaissance, Phaidon, 1971 (2nd edition), February 18, 2000

James Dean, an electrical engineer and artist, successful has presented renderings of "Old Masters" that humorously incorporate his cat, Pete. When one views the oeuvre of Dean, there is no mistaking these pieces as "original" in concept, even if homage is made to better-known works of art. Perhaps those artists and students who wish to purloin "good ideas" should reconsider such nonsense and but learn from Dean's approach.

Recently, there has been an increase of works "appropriated" via the internet, reproduced in some form by other hands and then sold through global channels. Legal steps have been taken by individuals as well as groups such as the Art Renewal Center to stop this activity.

It was with this body of knowledge that I debated what to do about the student who had copied Stodart's "Mary Magdalene" and submitted it for a grade to her instructor. Ultimately the question of artistic integrity versus technical process seemed to be the primary issue that plagued my mind. Consequently, I fired off an email to the instructor, citing Stodart's work, citing his website as well as one from another site that had been archived on the internet since 1999. This proved earlier "provenance" and I included a .jpg of his image for the immediate reference of the instructor.

Within hours of sending the email, I received the following response:

Dear Sharon (if I may):

Thanks for sending the image--it's beautiful. It seems my student lifted the idea. Very sad, especially as I watched her produce all 16 layers of her serigraph on raw silk and it's very beautiful. Anyway, I much appreciate the beautiful image.


Which "beautiful image" does the professor appreciate, the original one by Richard Stoddart or the serigraphed copy by her student? Ah, the nuances of words! As if to play a "trump", the instructor appended her name with a reference to her Ph.D, and a composite list of her credentials as a professor of art history at the university. I'm not sure what to make of it all, and I suspect the instructor will do nothing with the information I provided. If this is the case, the student will have learned much about art history, for its chronicles are filled with tales of art thefts and honor amongst thieves.

Please note: Within this blog I intentionally have not given appropriate attribution to the cited written words of the Art History instructor. This is because I wish to protect the identity of the individual, and I hope that a culture of shame isn't necessary for her to take appropriate action. One might also contend the concept of "fair use policy" herein applies.

NB: Legal Info for artists