Monday, May 24, 2010

But then they danced down the street like dingledodies

“But then they danced down the street like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I’ve been doing all my life after people who interest me…” Jack Kerouac

As Memorial Day looms on the horizon, a young (well, middle aged) man’s thoughts turn to… festivals! Anyone who knows me can confirm that I often write of my enthusiasm for public gatherings that center on the mutual celebration of creativity. These can range from functions that have art as their focus, such as Parade the Circle, to events that celebrate more esoteric arts, like horticulture at The Great Geauga County Fair. I always try to get to new events every year, dragging my family and friends to the full range of out-and-about activities that our incredibly eclectic region can offer.

This past weekend I added a new entry to my list; despite the fact that the event was celebrating its 41st year and that it happens only a couple of blocks from where I have worked for more than 12 years of my life: the Hessler Street Fair. I can’t explain why it’s taken me so long to get over to one of Cleveland’s most unique celebrations. I’ve been aware of it for more than 20 years, and each year pledge to go, but life gets in the way, I guess. The event reminded me of the old Coventry Road Street Fairs that I used to attend, as it was a true counter-culture experience in every way.

A couple of factors I look for in festivals are that they have a unique and definable theme and that they feature top-of-the-line people watching opportunities. In truth, county fairs, civic celebrations, and arts & crafts fairs tend to look alike after a while. There are only so many strung beads you can look at, funnel cakes you can eat, and bar bands you can hear before your eyes start to glaze over. This is definitely not the case with the two days in May that make up the Hessler Fair each year.

Let’s start with the theme, if it can be called such. The event celebrates a spontaneous gathering of like minds in a picturesque city neighborhood a generation ago. The themes you encounter include open mindedness, freedom of speech, and alternative approaches to food, clothing, transportation, politics, and everything else. The Fair even seems to encourage a sense of being part of an unplanned happening, even after all these years and despite the presence of a funnel cake stand. Some folks might argue that the event is a bit dated, targeting sensibilities and points of view that disappeared with bell bottoms and granny glasses, but I disagree. The two small blocks that make up the site were crowded with young people just starting to make their way in the world, and many of the issues and ideas being promoted or proclaimed were as pertinent as oil spills in the Gulf of Mexico or the right for individuals and organizations to disagree with current leadership. And hey, bell bottoms and tie dye are back in a big way anyhow.

But the real fun this past weekend was the people watching. In fact it was more like “people meeting” rather than people watching. The street is pretty narrow, and the day was very hot and sunny. If you want to get a sense of just what a broad mix of people makes up Northeast Ohio, this is the place to see it. A wonderful blend of inner city, near suburbs, and far-flung folks, the crowd (and it was packed) was as colorful and engaging as the clothes for sale in the booths. Many of them were accompanied by their dogs, which were as diverse as their owners: a mix of tiny to large, pure-bred to mongrel, and all of them friendly. You constantly heard the exclamations of folks who had just run into an old friend, a friend they may only see once a year, at this celebration. Many of the vendor booths featured folks from exotic locales or points of view as well, as proven by my step-daughter’s new henna tattoo running up her right wrist and arm. I must admit that the Hessler Street Fair wins the award for people watching, with more interesting people per square foot than any place I’ve yet experienced.

You would think that an event like this one - small quartered, somewhat politicized, and featuring a broad socio-economic mix of patrons - might feature an atmosphere that was either closed to the outsider or confrontational, but it was neither. In the parlance of the day, it was a true “love-in,” full of smiles and handshakes and embraces; a very welcoming trip back in time to remind us that “love is all you need” is not such a naïve sentiment after all.

I would be remiss if I did not take the opportunity to mention the passing of a great leader and patron of The Music Settlement and the arts in Northeast Ohio, Allan Zambie, who passed away last week. All of us who knew him recognized the dedication and energy that Allan brought to his role as a current member and former Chair of our Board of Directors. His voice was one of vision tempered by reason in the board room, and no one could question his love for the arts and music in particular. Though he was in failing health recently, he overcame great personal difficulty to keep his attendance active and his voice heard right up until the last month or so. The Music Settlement and much of the arts and culture community owe a great debt to Allan and we join together to say, “Safe journey and Godspeed, faithful servant” to this very special man.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

We have met the enemy, and he is us

We have met the enemy, and he is us.” Walt Kelly

Someone recently brought to my attention an article found on Yahoo! the other day. Its headline was the “Ten Worst-Paying College Degrees,” and I thought, “Uh-oh, this could be bad.” Well, that’s an understatement. The ten worst degrees according to Payscale.com (that noted source of irrefutable truths) were, in order:

1. Social Work
2. Elementary Education
3. Theology
4. Music
5. Spanish
6. Horticulture
7. Education
8. Hospitality/ Tourism
9. Fine Arts
10. Theatre

My first thought was, “What, no philosophy or large animal husbandry?” No, actually, my first thought was “what a poor commentary on the priorities of this world we live in.” Now I know if I looked up the highest paying degrees, I would see many of the usual suspects, and I don’t pretend to begrudge these fields their worthiness, but must the caring and creative arts always land so far down the line? Is there really so little value placed by our society on the fields that most often have direct contact with our children and families? Must the most creative and empathic people in our culture be marginalized not only by their medium, but also their moola?

I want to make a stand right here in this blog and take issue with a few points in this report, the first being the idea that the economic strata assigned to those in the categories listed above are appropriate, market-driven, and reflect truth. What they really reflect are what the Hopi Indians of the southwest referred to as Koyaanisqatsi, translated roughly as “world out of balance.” They reflect a culture that seems bent on denying that it has any culture, that it places no value on those who enlighten, inspire, and advocate. To me, this data reflects a country where there is little effort to steer the best and the brightest to positions where the emphasis tends to be on interpersonal skills and empathy. Why would we assign less value to a person who educates our children than one who markets products to them? Why is a profession which profits from interpersonal conflict considered to be of more value than one which is dedicated to providing solutions to conflicts before they begin? Again, my point is not to disparage those professions, but to ask the question, “why?” World out of balance, indeed.

I work in arts education and have done so consistently for my entire adult life. Let’s see, that puts me in roughly five of the top ten categories above, and if you factor in my nearest family and closest friends, we’ve pretty much got all ten covered. Do my friends and family and I represent an unproductive subculture of our highly productive world? Far from it. Each of us brings value, joy, and hope to the lives of many, every day. Is it frustrating to do so in a context of receiving less in return? No doubt.

But this is not just a rant; there is more to this story, which leads to my second point. I am constantly asked by anxious parents to assure them that their children who have identified the arts and related nonprofit fields as their profession will either a) snap out of it soon and come to their senses, or b) discover that pot-o-gold that awaits the very fortunate few who transition from undervalued to uber-valued in these professions, despite the odds that are stacked against them. I take a different tack in answering them: I tell them that the opportunity their children have before them is to achieve a different kind of value - personal value. The unreported flip side of stories like “America’s Ten Worst-Paying Degrees” is “America’s Highest Self-Worth Professions.” When such reports are published, one after another lists many of the professions in the caring and curing arts as having some of the highest satisfaction levels measured, indicating that there really is more to work than just compensation, and could explain why many top business executives seek out volunteer opportunities or arts-related avocations in their “off-time.”

What does this tell us? It tells us that individually, we tend to choose the heart over the wallet. We derive true value and satisfaction from making a difference in the lives of others, not just from making a dollar. The real tragedy is that when the collective mind converges, somehow the wires get crossed. This doesn’t have to be the status quo; it begins with each of us. Support working artists and arts educators, public and private school teachers, and those who battle for a healthy social balance in our world. Don’t discourage young folks from pursuing important professions that happen to pay less than others. Instead, advocate for a society that bases its values more on the difference one makes. But also remember to back off on ranking the dollar as the ultimate measure of things. There really is more to life.

By the way, Koyaanisqatsi is also the title of a terrific dialogue-free movie that features the music of the composer Philip Glass, and which presents a truly moving photographic portrait of our cockeyed world. Check it out and be reminded of the eloquent voice of the arts in our upside-down world.