December 8, 1980

Yoko Ono has written a letter to John Lennon:

I miss you, John. 27 years later, I still wish I could turn back the clock to the Summer of 1980. . . .

Letter from Yoko to John (Imagine Peace)

The Sound of Jazz, fifty years ago today

[Billie Holiday listens to Lester Young, December 8, 1957.]

Fifty years ago today, CBS broadcast The Sound of Jazz as part of its series The Seven Lively Arts. Gunther Schuller: "Unquestionably the finest hour jazz has ever had on television." Here are four highlights, courtesy of YouTube:

Henry "Red" Allen, Wild Man Blues
Jimmy Giuffre, The Train and the River
Billie Holiday, Fine and Mellow (mislabeled as 1944)
Thelonious Monk, Blue Monk

Watching these clips this morning, I began to think about the number of posters that could be made from the often iconic images therein.

The Sound of Jazz (Wikipedia)
The Sound of Jazz (Amazon)

Related post
On December 8

Proust on objects and their associations

[Welcome, kottke.org readers.]

A post at kottke.org by Adam Lisagor, Remembrance of Phones Past, has developed into a wonderful and sometimes Proustian discussion of telephones and other objects and their associations. Here's a relevant Proust passage, perhaps the relevant passage. It concerns the narrator's rediscovery of a favorite book from childhood:

Some mystery-loving minds maintain that objects retain something of the eyes that have looked at them, that we can see monuments and pictures only through an almost intangible veil woven over them through the centuries by the love and admiration of so many admirers. This fantasy would become truth if they transposed it into the realm of the only reality each person knows, into the domain of their own sensitivity. Yes, in that sense and that sense only (but it is much the more important one), a thing which we have looked at long ago, if we see it again, brings back to us, along with our original gaze, all the images which that gaze contained. This is because things — a book in its red binding, like the rest — at the moment we notice them, turn within us into something immaterial, akin to all the preoccupations or sensations we have at that particular time, and mingle indissolubly with them.

Marcel Proust, Finding Time Again, translated by Ian Patterson (London: Penguin, 2003), 193

A related post
Out of the past (On two books from childhood)

All Proust posts (Pinboard)

Overheard

From a conversation about evolution:

". . . Pope Ron Paul the Second . . ."

All "Overheard" posts (via Pinboard)

(Thanks, Elaine!)

Plot keyword: Proust

The International Movie Database lists 141 plot keywords for Little Miss Sunshine, including eating, eyeglasses, and fried chicken. What's missing? Proust. "French writer. Total loser," according to Frank Ginsberg (Steve Carell), the movie's number-one Proust scholar in the United States.

In real life, screenwriter Michael Arndt's twin brother is a Proust scholar. Co-director Jonathan Dayton: "He's in Ankara, so he's the number-one Proust scholar in Turkey."

I added Proust to the IMDb's word-hoard this morning. Will it stick? I'll know in a few weeks.

[Update, 3.16.08: Marcel Proust is now a keyword for Little Miss Sunshine.]

Walking on Sunshine (Interview with Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris)

All Proust posts (via Pinboard)

Gods in color

Archaeologist Vinzenz Brinkmann makes color reconstructions of ancient Greek and Roman sculpture. His work is on display at Harvard University's Sackler Museum. From the Wall Street Journal:

The fashion for white antiquities dates back to the early 16th century, when the Renaissance began excavating works that had lain buried in the earth for centuries. Color traces still visible to the naked eye, deep in the folds of draped clothing, for instance, went unnoticed. Following what they believed to be the Greek and Roman example, Italian sculptors — notably Michelangelo — conceived their creations as uncolored. By the 18th century, practitioners of the then-new science of archaeology were aware that the ancients had used color. But Johann Joachim Winckelmann, the German prefect of antiquities at the Vatican, preferred white. His personal taste was enshrined by fiat as the "classical" standard. And so it remained, unchallenged except by the occasional eccentric until the late 20th century.

[Photograph: Trojan archer, original c. 490–480 BCE, color reconstruction by Vinzenz Brinkmann and Ulrike Koch-Brinkmann.]

Gods in Color: Painted Sculpture of Classical Antiquity (Harvard University Art Museums)
Setting the Record Straight About Classical Statues' Hues (Wall Street Journal)
Gods in Color slideshow (WSJ)

Kleinert's dress shields

I found this advertisement in a manila folder while decluttering a bit in my office today. If an accompanying magazine cover is to be believed, this ad appeared the April 29, 1940 issue of Life.

If Arthur Murray were still living, he'd be 112 years old, and he would no doubt still, in a whisper, insist on Kleinert dress shields, even if "the positions of the dance" nowadays are likely to reveal much more than underarms.

And lo — Kleinert's is still making dress shields in Elba, Alabama, though notion counters, like the Americonga and the company's Toronto, New York, and London offices, are long gone.

Related reading
Arthur Murray (Wikipedia)
All "dowdy world" posts (via Pinboard)

Saucy tomatoes

Making Cuban black beans and rice for dinner, following a recipe in Robin Robertson's Vegan Planet (2003), I stopped and thought about this sentence:

Cover and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are tender and the tomatoes are saucy, about 10 minutes.

Nine minutes or so later, I started hearing cracks about my sweater-vest, and I knew the dish was done.

My favorite saucy is in John Donne's "The Sunne Rising," a poem that characterizes the sunne himself as a "Sawcy pendantique wretch." I'd welcome the sunne and share my Cuban black beans and rice with him if he was to visit. (It's been a gray, grey day.)

University of Wisconsin sues over W

Not from The Onion:

For the first time, UW-Madison is taking another school to court over its prized Motion W logo.

On Friday, the university filed a federal trademark infringement lawsuit against Washburn University, a small liberal arts and professional education school in Topeka, Kan. The move is unprecedented, even as the university has aggressively defended the logo used by UW-Madison athletic teams since 1990.

"It's unfortunate and certainly regrettable from our perspective," said Casey Nagy, an assistant to UW-Madison Chancellor John Wiley. "We really haven't had this kind of situation develop with a college or university."

The lawsuit accuses Washburn of "willfully, intentionally and maliciously" using the Motion W logo "to cause and enhance confusion. . . ."

UW-Madison's logo, the lawsuit states, is used on dozens of licensed products, such as clothing, glassware and souvenirs. Washburn's W is used the same way. That's a problem, the lawsuit states, in that purchasers seeing Washburn's unlicensed products and "perceiving a defect, lack of quality or any impropriety are likely to mistakenly attribute them to Wisconsin," causing irreparable harm "to Wisconsin's goodwill."

You can see the logos here and here. One is red and pixelated, with a curved baseline and a shadow. The other is blue, with a straight baseline and a white outline. Both tilt optimistically upward. And yes, they're both Ws. Are you confused yet?

U-W Madison sues over logo (Wisconsin State Journal)

How to do horribly on a final exam

Ten simple steps:

"Her finals are supposed to be really easy. There's no point in studying a lot."

"Besides, I'm pretty much assured a B no matter what."

"Plus, it's been proved that overstudying leads to lower grades."

"I can study later, after Family Guy."

"I don't need to review that much anyway. After all, I have a photographic memory."

"Besides, there's so much material — if I don't know it by now, studying won't help."

"Grey's Anatomy!"

"Facebook!"

"I can just do an all-nighter. I'll be fine in the morning."

"Yeah, I should set my alarm just in case. I'll do it later."

One professor's thoughts, for any student who's reading:

It always makes sense to take a final examination seriously. If the exam turns out to be easy, wonderful. And if it's difficult, you're prepared. A strong exam performance can have significant redeeming value: if you're on the cusp between grades, it might be enough to decide things in your favor. And turning in a mediocre exam with the expectation that it won't affect your semester grade can backfire, even if your grade remains undamaged. It's the student assured of an A or B who still turns in a strong final exam whom a professor will remember with respect and affection when it's time to write a letter of recommendation.

I wrote a post some time ago for students looking to do the opposite of horribly:

How to do well on a final examination

[As several readers have suggested, these ten simple steps are a pretty tame version of how to do horribly on a final exam. A tame version is the only version I choose to imagine.]