Category: The Arts

My favorite things Berlin

by  Tyler Cowen in

1. Movie, set in: One, Two, Three captures a bit of comedy from the Cold War and shows Jimmy Cagney to be a surprisingly versatile actor.  Wings of Desire has stunning moments, most of all in the Staatsbibliothek with the angels and in the indie music club.  Goodbye, Lenin! shows German movies can be funny, as does Run, Lola, Run!.  I don't like films about either the rise or fall of the Nazis and I couldn't get through Berlin Alexanderplatz.

2. Essayist: Kurt Tucholsky.  He is hardly read by Americans, and perhaps does not translate well, but is arguably one of the most eloquent and also funniest essayists of his century.  Heinreich Heine also spent time in the city, although he is not a "Berliner" in the same way.

3. Painter: George Grosz and Otto Dix have lost their shock value.  I'll pick Lucien Freud, who was born in Berlin, though he ended up in England.  Käthe Kollwitz deserves consideration, as well as for sculptor.

4. Symphonic performance: Furtwängler's 1942 performance of Beethoven's 9th, recorded live.  Has to be heard to be believed.  Obviously there was a lot at stake and furthermore Hitler was in the audience.  This performance will terrify you.

5. Sociologist: Georg Simmel, especially his book on the philosophy of money.

6. Political philosopher: Wilhelm von Humboldt, The Limits of State Action, which to this day remains one of the best statements of libertarian political philosophy.  

7. Playwright: Lessing's Nathan the Wise is a beautiful plea for tolerance.  Bertolt Brecht was a compelling writer despite his communist politics. 

8. Architect: Walter Gropius or Erich Mendelsohn.

9. Philosopher: Schopenhauer and Hegel both taught in Berlin.  Even Hegel, while he is full of gobbledy-gook, is brilliant on a frequent basis.  Don't start with Phenomenology of Spirit.  At the very least, read Schopenhauer's aphorisms.

10. Film director: Ernst Lubitsch was born there, and filmed silents there, though he later had to leave.  His Trouble in Paradise (1932) is today an under-viewed movie, plus his later romantic features, such as The Shop Around the Corner, Heaven Can Wait, and To Be Or Not To Be, all merit attention.

11. Non-fiction book, about: Two that come to mind are Richard Grunberger's The 12-Year Reich and Anthony Beevor's The Fall of Berlin 1945.  I do like books about the rise and fall of the Nazis; I just don't think the topic lends itself well to film.

12. Novel, set in: Uwe Johnson, The Third Book About Achim [Das dritte Buch über Achim] and John le Carré, The Spy Who Came in From the Cold.

13. Poet: Rilke.

Kurt Weill belongs somewhere, as does Christopher Isherwood, Gustav Grundgens, or for that matter E.T.A. Hoffmann.  In popular music there is Ricardo Villalobos (born in Chile, but a Berliner), Einstürzende Neubauten (start with Halber Mensch), and Peter and also Casper Brötzmann.  I confess that most Mendelssohn bores me.

The bottom line: How many countries could beat this line-up?  And most of it comes in a relatively short period of time.

Capitalism: Hollywood’s Miscast Villain

by  Alex Tabarrok in

In the WSJ online I cover Hollywood and capitalism including Star Wars, Star Trek, Avatar, The Wire and much else.  Here are two bits:

Although Hollywood does sometimes produce leftist films like "Reds," it has no deep love for socialism…

But Hollywood does share Marx's concept of alienation, the idea that under capitalism workers are separated from the product of their work and made to feel like cogs in a machine rather than independent creators. The lowly screenwriter is a perfect illustration of what Marx had in mind–a screenwriter can pour heart and soul into a screenplay only to see it rewritten, optioned, revised, reworked, rewritten again and hacked, hacked and hacked by a succession of directors, producers and, worst of all, studio executives. A screenwriter can have a nominally successfully career in Hollywood without ever seeing one of his works brought to the screen. Thus, the antipathy of filmmakers to capitalism is less ideological than it is experiential. Screenwriters and directors find themselves in a daily battle between art and commerce, and they come to see their battle against "the suits" as emblematic of a larger war between creative labor and capital.

On The Wire:

…although it uses character, "The Wire" is ultimately about how character is dominated by larger economic forces: drug dealers come and go, but the drug market is forever. "Capitalism is the ultimate god in The Wire. Capitalism is Zeus," says David Simon, the show's creator.

Over its five seasons, "The Wire" shows how money and markets connect and intertwine white and black, rich and poor, criminal and police in a grand web that none of them truly comprehends–a product of human action but not of human design. It's the invisible hand that's calling the shots, as Mr. Simon subtly reminds us in the conclusion to the third season, when Detective McNulty wondrously pulls a book from the shelf of murdered drug dealer Stringer Bell, and the camera focuses in on the title: "The Wealth of Nations" by Adam Smith.

Smith's metaphor of the invisible hand, like Mr. Simon's invocation of Zeus, tells us that to understand the world we need to look beyond the actions of individuals to see the larger forces at work. But Zeus is an arbitrary and capricious god whose lightning bolts fall out of the sky without reason or direction. Smith's "invisible hand," however, is that of a kinder god, a god that cares not one whit for individuals but nevertheless guides self-interest toward the social good, progress, and economic growth. So Mr. Simon understands that the Baltimore dockworkers lost their jobs because of the relentless change that capitalism brings and not through any fault of their own. But Adam Smith sees what Mr. Simon does not, namely that it was capitalism that brought the Baltimore stevedores their high wages in the first place and it is the relentless change of capitalism that slowly raises wages throughout the world.

More here.

My favorite things Turkey

by  Tyler Cowen in

1. Novelist: Orhan Pamuk.  My favorite books by Pamuk are the ones rooted most firmly in Istanbul and Turkey, namely The Museum of Innocence and Istanbul and also Snow.  Those are some of my very favorite books, period.

2. Non-fiction book, set in: There is Runciman and Kinross and Stephen Kinzer.  Is the Osman book good?

3. Movie, set in: From Russia With Love and Topkapi come to mind; my knowledge of Turkish cinema is weak.

4. Opera, set in: The Abduction from the Seraglio, maybe the Beecham recording, or Krips, plus I like the overture of the Harnoncourt version, much more Turkish-sounding than the others.  And I don't have to tell you my favorite Rondo.

Uh-oh, suddenly there is too much Orientalism in this post.  Reverse course!

5. Favorite recording showing the unities behind Turkish and classical music: Istanbul, Dimitrie Cantemir, by Jordi Savall.  Quite the revelation and it makes you wonder how well we understand the true story of classical music.

6. Singer: Tarkan comes to mind and he is well represented on YouTube.  There is an entire strand of Turkish popular song, in the direction of Sezen Aksu, YouTube here.  But overall my pick is Edip Akbayram, imagine a Turkish version of Tropicalia.

7. Economist: Dani Rodrik, Daron Acemoglu, Timur Kuran, and Faruk Gul are the best-known Turkish economists I can think of.  I believe Nouriel Roubini was born in Turkey but I don't think he counts as Turkish.

8. Music mogul: Ahmet Ertegun, founder of Atlantic Records.

9. Classical pianist: I still have mixed feelings about Fazil Say, who is very subjective with the score.  Idil Biret has some good recordings of romantic music and piano transcriptions.

10. Cynic: Diogenes, who in a few ways was an early version of Robin Hanson, though I am not suggesting Robin is a cynic in the lower case sense.

The bottom line: Textiles and the decorative arts weigh in as strong additional positives, but I wish there were more Turkish writers I liked.  

The Art of Taxation

by  Alex Tabarrok in

In Mexico, visual artists can pay their taxes with art works.

That's the deal Mexico has offered to artists since 1957, quietly amassing a modern art collection that would make most museum curators swoon. As the 2009 tax deadline approaches, tax collectors are getting ready to receive a whole new crop of masterworks…

There's a sliding scale: If you sell five artworks in a year, you must give the government one. Sell 21 pieces, the government gets six. A 10-member jury of artists ensures that no one tries to unload junk.

Under the program, the Ministry of Finance and Public Credit now owns 4,248 paintings, sculptures, engravings and photographs by Diego Rivera, Rufino Tamayo, Leonora Carrington and other masters.

Click on "Colecciones Pago en Especie" at apartados.hacienda.gob.mx/cultura/index.html to see the art works which have been used to pay taxes since the program began.

The Mexican government accepts all styles of painting for the program so, unlike in America, in Mexico you can have taxation without representation.

My favorite things Kentucky

by  Tyler Cowen in

1. Favorite song, set in: "Blue Moon," Cowboy Junkies version  The Louvin Brothers have some contenders, including "Kentucky."

2. Basketball player: Rex Chapman.  Honorable mention to Pervis Ellison, I watched both of them for years with Angus.

3. Film director: Tod Browning, see Freaks to blow your mind.  "Goo-bah, Ga-bah, one of us, one of us!" is one of my favorite moments in all of cinema.  There is also John Carpenter's The Thing.

4. Popular music: The Everly Brothers, most of all their 1968 album Roots.

5. Jazz musician: Lionel Hampton.

6. Bluegrass music: It's hard not to pick Bill Monroe, who more or less invented the genre.

7. Country guitarist: Merle Travis, watch these clips on YouTube.

8. Sculptor: Edgar Tolson, here are various images.

9. Rapper: Muhammad Ali.

10. Movie, set in: "No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to die!"  Can you figure out which film that is from?

Excluded: Robert Penn Warren's book has never made sense to me, sorry.  I also have the vague sense that a lot of movie stars are from this state.

The bottom line: Culturally speaking, Kentucky is a much more important and impressive state than it usually gets credit for.

The Back-up Plan

by  Tyler Cowen in

The journals of the American Economic Association have started an experiment that acknowledges the reality that papers move from one publication to another — and the system could save authors considerable time, and publications money. In the experiment, authors of papers that are rejected from the flagship journal — American Economic Review — can now opt to have referee reports sent directly to one of four other journals published by the association.

So far it looks like a near-Pareto improvement.  Here is more detail; by the way, editors from sociology and anthropology say that plan wouldn't work in their disciplines, though neuroscience has a reviewing consortium.

Is there a new Michelangelo?

by  Tyler Cowen in

Quite possibly, view it here, previously classified as Workshop of Francesco Granacci.  It is not a small work, dashed off in hours, it is a major painting, 29 by 82 inches.

No, I am not one of these people who thinks high art, or even "modern art," (or for that matter Jeff Koons) is a load of crap.  Still, I have a simple question.  Let's say it is by Michelangelo.  It's not that good.  Since no one used to call this painting a major masterpiece, and it is not being ascribed to "foul juvenalia" (it was painted right before the Sistine Chapel) does it not mean that Michelangelo wasn't as good a painter as we used to think?  Peaks matter but the average matters too (in the meantime, can we downgrade talent assessments on a purely stochastic basis?)

Here is the bottom line on our previous collective, "wisdom of crowds" judgment:

The Met bought the painting at Sotheby's London, along with a companion work attributed to Granacci, which depicts episodes in the life of the Baptist. "I think it's ironic that the Met paid $200,000 for the Granacci and $150,000 for the painting I attribute to Michelangelo," Fahy said.

My favorite bit is this one:

Keith Christiansen, who succeeded Fahy as chairman of the European paintings department and who is a prominent scholar on the Italian Renaissance, told me, "I think Everett has put forward the strongest argument that can be made for it."

Does that mean yes or no?

Christiansen smiled and said, "I don't do yes or no."

Hat tip goes to Kottke.

The iPad

by  Tyler Cowen in

Could this be the medium through which the fabled convergence finally occurs?

Most of all, think of it as a substitute for your TV.

It has the all-important quality of allowing you to bend your head and body as you wish (more or less), as you use it.  By bringing it closer or further, you control the "real size" of the iPad, so don't fixate on whether it appears "too big" or "too small."

The pages turn faster than those of Kindle.  The other functions are also extremely quick and the battery feels eternal.

So far my main complaint is how it uses "auto-correct" to turn "gmu" into "gum."

While I will bring it on some trips, most of all it feels too valuable to take very far from the house.

On YouTube I watched Chet Atkins, Sonny Rollins, and Angela Hewitt.

Note all the categories on this short post!

My review of the new edition of van Gogh’s letters

by  Tyler Cowen in

I read these new volumes in December.  There are six large books, two columns to a page, large pages, the whole thing weighs about thirty pounds.  I can't recall taking on such a large reading project in such a short period of time, but I am very glad I spent a few weeks immersed in the world of Vincent van Gogh.  I was impressed by how smart van Gogh was, what an intellectual omnivore he was, and how well he could compose a letter and pour forth a lot of information very rapidly.  The illustrations and footnotes in the volumes are stunning.  You'll find the review here.  Excerpt:

The collected letters of great creative minds can often be read as lengthy case studies in the dissimulation and the control of one's personal image to others. This is the case with van Gogh, whose writing also shows how such interpretive attempts break down. Some of his letters are practical documents containing very little information, a series of bland platitudes to cajole, influence, and perhaps even mislead their readers. Tone and content contrast strikingly, from one recipient to the next. He himself stated–if only in passing–that there is a lot wrong or exaggerated in his letters, "without my always [sic] being aware of it" (December 23, 1881).

When van Gogh writes to his parents, he sounds like a normal son who is keen to reassure Mom and Dad that everything is OK; with his sister Willemien, he is loving, doting, and domestic, and it feels that he is trying not to remind her of his chaotic life, rather than trying to conceal it. He describes to her the prospect of sharing a room with Gauguin (July 31, 1888), calling him "a very spirited painter." "We'd live together for the sake of economy and for each other's company." A few months later (October 8 and 29), he writes to Theo that Gauguin needs to eat, walk in the countryside with him (Vincent), and "have a screw once in a while": "He and I plan to go to the brothels a lot, but only to study them." The entire Gauguin story is a highlight of the volumes, and in those letters to Gauguin, not to mention to other artists, van Gogh is prickly, difficult, and condescending, playing the role of rival to the hilt.

As for his letters to Theo, these are so full of life that it's easy for the reader to assume that his brother is getting the "real Vincent." But is he? Through much of this period, Theo is supporting van Gogh, either by sending him money, by selling his art (or trying to), or both. Writing to Theo, the artist comes across as whining, manipulative, and in careful control of the flow of information. It's a kind of faux frankness, maybe not untrue but designed to portray a mind in creative ferment and to fit a certain stereotype. There is often first a thanks for money received, a blizzard of reports about what van Gogh is doing and painting, and then at the end a suggestion that even more painting, activity, and creative ferment might be possible if only Theo would do everything to support him. Time and again, the reader wonders just how much van Gogh and his brother trust each other. In the letter of August 14, 1879, for instance, he complains that Theo has advised him to give up his quest to be an artist. "And, joking apart, I honestly think it would be better if the relationship between us were more trusting on both sides," van Gogh suggests, before apologizing for the possibility that so much of the family sorrow and discord have been caused by him. These look and sound like letters to his brother, but in essence we are reading fund-raising proposals.

You have to register to read the whole review but it doesn't take long.  www.bookforum.com, by the way, is one of my all-time favorite web sites.

My favorite short stories

by  Tyler Cowen in

In the "Request for Requests," yc asks:

Your favorite short stories (or collections)

Most of the twentieth century greats, such as Cheever and Barthelme, don't much stick with me.  I am a huge fan of Alice Munro and have read most or all of her work (the last collection is good but somewhat below average.)  She is consistently interesting about human nature and its foibles; maybe start here.

From the classics I'll pick Kafka's "A Country Doctor" and lots by Melville.  Borges is a special favorite, especially Ficciones.  Joyce's short stories I admire but don't much enjoy.  I like Poe's "The Gold-Bug" and Hemingway's "Kilimanjaro"  For Chekhov I prefer the mid-length fiction, though this may be a problem of translation.  Tolstoy's "Hadji Murad" might count as a novella.  From Henry James, I would recommend many of the shorter works including "Turn of the Screw" and "The Beast in the Garden."  Isaac Babel.  Some Shirley Jackson.  Mark Twain.  There is much in science fiction and arguably the genre is at its strongest in this medium.

That's a very incomplete answer, but it's what comes to mind right away.

My favorite things Grenada

by  Tyler Cowen in

This one may seem like a stumper but in fact it's a breeze.  Here goes:

1. Painter: Canute Calliste, who paints in a naive style.  You'll find four images and a bit of biography here.  I first encountered his work at a Quito biennial in the mid-1990s.  His best works are not on-line.  Here is one other painting by Canute Caliste.

2. Short story writer: Paul Keens-Douglas.  This pick is a no-brainer.  Here is Keens-Douglas telling a story.  Here is Keens-Douglas doing a comedy routine.  I used to have some very good cassettes of him telling folk tales.

3. Musical artist: The calypso genius Mighty Sparrow is usually thought of as coming from Trinidad, but in fact he was born in Grenada.  Here is a YouTube clip.

4. 19th century Haitian revolutionary: Henri Christophe was born in Grenada.

5. Movie, set in: I can only think of one, namely the 1957 Island in the Sun, starring Harry Belafonte, which is well known for its early portrayal of an interracial embrace.  I haven't seen it, but I guess I like it in principle.  Much of it was filmed in Grenada as well.

The bottom line: For an island of about 100,000 people, that's not bad.