Sign O’ The Times

If you had to bury something, say nuclear waste materials that would potentially harm people several millennia from now, how would you go about labeling a waste site now, so that those uncovering it in the future would realize the danger of the site’s contents?

Without using specific words, what symbols would you use to transcend culture and language to form an easily understood warning—in other words, how do you “brand” danger? Once branded, how can you count on a particular symbol’s meaning remaining the same over time, especially considering that associations can change, often with oppositional meanings? Compare the Swastika symbol in the Neolithic, Bronze Age and Iron Age periods—meant to convey peace, welfare or prosperity—with its Western use as a good luck symbol in the 1880s through 1920s, and ultimately its use as the emblem of the Nazi Party and the evil connotation attached to it to this day. A brief audio segment on Studio 360 this past Sunday posed these questions, and pondered how designers and artists can boil signs and symbols down to the bare essentials of what they are trying to convey. Listen to the audio here.

There is a correlation in music as well; specifically in the art of improvising in jazz music. Having studied it for the past 12 years or so, the recurring advice received from masters of the art form always seems to revolve around finding a way to convey the most meaning and emotion using the fewest notes. In other words, working to condense your voice and the musical tools that you use, so that it resonates clearly with the audience. Miles Davis, Ahmad Jamal and Bill Evans were all great examples of rejecting the harmonic acrobatics of the Bebop era and using space and silence as thematic elements in their compositions and improvisations. Davis often remarked that a musician has to know 400 notes that can be played, then pick only the right 4 notes.

CLEVELAND…You’ve Got to be Tough!

What do all of these images have in common, and more importantly, what do they have to do with art? They, and countless other images and stories, are all part of the collective psyche that we as born-and-bred Clevelanders share. They are also part of the fodder that inspired the current independent art exhibit All Things Cleveland at Asterisk Gallery in Tremont. The installation is being described as “a visual roast of this glorious city by Cleveland artists.” The gallery statement goes on to say that “the object was to produce an exhibition that promotes a self-deprecating view of Cleveland by Clevelanders. The work must represent or depict Cleveland in some way, shape, or form. Think more of a less positive Harvey Pekarian viewpoint, burnt perogies [sic], the continual grief and despair we feel each and every day, the adverse effect our sports teams have on our mental state, our bleak and depressing outlook on life, etc, etc, all the good things.”

Jeez. It’s a wonder any of us ever stayed here. I think I am a pretty good representative of a true “Clevelander.” I grew up in a middle class, Blue Collar family; my pops was a dyed in the wool union pipefitter who ate lard and speck sandwiches for lunch and made his own sausages and sauerkraut on the weekends for fun. I saw The Drive, The Fumble, The Shot. I used to go down to see the taping of the Big Chuck and Little John Show.  Hell, my last name is synonymous with Cleveland sports, and the “there’s always next year” shortcomings of all of our teams in the 1970s and 1980s.

I had the chance to attend the opening reception at Asterisk this past Friday night, and for the most part the artists were able to take a cheeky look at Cleveland politics, decades of sports failures, race relations and the joys of Cleveland winters. Obvious targets like Frank Jackson, Jimmy Dimora and Frank Russo were roasted in large oil paintings, as were other topics like the ubiquitous ODOT orange barrels, inexplicable traffic patterns and the foreclosure crisis that has gutted neighborhoods like Glenville and Collinwood.

I didn’t exactly leave having experienced any great epiphanies; but rather the consolation that there are others who are willing to not take things so seriously and poke fun at their fair city, and in turn themselves. I didn’t really get the sense of “grief and despair” that the gallery stated in its description, and aside from some mild controversy dealing with the Greater Cleveland Partnership’s Cleveland Plus campaign and some jabs at MOCA, the overwhelming feel of the show was of tongue-in-cheek nostalgia, not any angst-ridden views or negativity (disclosure; I am an employee of COSE and the Greater Cleveland Partnership). All in all, it was a well conceived show that created some good conversations at the pub next door afterward, and it was also impressive to see a large crowd spilling out of an independent gallery onto the sidewalks of Tremont that evening.

This is Your Brain on Music

Have you ever stopped to think about how our brains process the sounds we hear every day? Furthermore, how music in particular is received, processed and “stored” by the human brain? As an example, think of your favorite song right now, but try not to physically hum or sing the melody at all. Chances are you still “hear” the music in your head, most likely with the right pitches, key and chords of the original version, and with the same sonic textures as if the music were actually playing externally. The interesting thing is that you are not “hearing” the music at all in the traditional sense of physical sound waves being received by the ear and stimulating auditory nerve endings. What you are “hearing” is a cognitive process that has no real-time relationship to any sound production or sound waves.

The study of music and its relationship to the brain has earned much attention in recent years, due in part to Daniel J. Levitin, Ph.D., a professor and researcher who applies cognitive psychology and neuroscience to music in order to understand why it affects us in the way that it does. Levitin doesn’t simply approach the subject from a dry, scientific angle; he is a seasoned musician and record producer who has worked with Steely Dan, Stevie Wonder, Santana and the Grateful Dead among others. He is the author of the New York Times bestseller This Is Your Brain on Music which explores the fascinating relationship between music and cognitive psychology, and how sound and music affect human behavior and emotion. It is a really good read for anyone with an interest in music or psychology, and it’s written in enough of an approachable, nonscientific manner to engage the rest of us who don’t happen to be neuroscientists or cognitive psychologists.