Art, for art's sake!

Nice to see my brother’s unorthodox pragmatism at work. (See here for details.)

I followed another suggestion by a former Massachusetts resident and went to the Museum of Fine Arts on Saturday. Owing much to quiz bowl I’m sure, I have always loved art museums (so long as it isn’t modern art; ugh) and so it didn’t take much prodding for me to want to go to this one.

I managed to get there the second-to-last day they had a visiting exhibit detailing Spanish art during the reign of Philip IV (or was it III? I don’t remember, but I think it was IV; this is why I wasn’t the art person on the QB team). Basically, this was from El Greco to Velasquez. There were a lot of great pictures by them and other artists that I had never seen, but I didn’t need quite so many side-commetaries on the audio guide that discussed Catholicism (the Inquisition, Counter-Reformation, and sometimes even the impact these things had on art commission!). Then again maybe not everyone knows enough about my faith, so who am I to complain?

In all the other sections visitors are allowed to take personal photographs so long as the flash is disabled. So I did. Some highlights are below. The best piece permanently in the collection, though, was a John Singer Sargent piece called The Daughters of Edward D. Boit. An online image of it can be found here.
(By the way, if you like art and have never spent even one whole evening searching through Mark Harden’s Artchive , then you are lying about liking art. If you can’t waste an evening looking through there, no one can help you appreciate art.) Imagine this painting about 6 feet on a side and you’ll understand what it was like to see it in person. The audio commentary on it was pretty good, but rather than ruin the MFA’s racket I’ll just say one of the commenters said it was among the 6 most emotionally complex paintings in American art history in his opinion. I have to agree.

After the museum I went to a restaurant, the Barking Crab, that had been recommended to me by my friend Laura. I sat at the bar next to a group of five that just ordered tons of food and a few of them were willing to chat with me about the city, giving me advice on things to do (namely, places to take a girl to impress her. That’s valuable coin for a 24 year old.). They also shared a crab leg with me, giving me my first real taste of crab meat. Had they done this before I ordered my chicken sandwich, I might have gotten the crab bucket instead. Then again at $30+ for 5 legs, I might not have gotten it. My sandwich was really good too, though, so a big plus to Laura for the suggestion.

That’s mostly it for me. Other than Saturday, the only sunny days in the past week and a half were Friday and today, so of course after work I went jogging to enjoy the weather. I don’t know why I feel the need to jog, seeing as (for example) I walked a total of somewhere between 11 and 13 miles on Saturday while visiting these places (cheaper than the subway and good exercise, though the subway is a great deal here).

Everyone please keep my friends Blake and Travis in their thoughts/prayers this week. They both just finished law school at the UofA and are taking the Arkansas Bar exam tomorrow through I think Thursday or Friday. Man, am I glad I don’t have a professional exam after I’m done with grad school. Other than that whole dissertation thing, I suppose. And comps. Damn, maybe I’m not getting off so easily.


Without further ado, the images and my thoughts. I put the famous artists (or at least the ones I remember from quiz bowl; isn't that enough?) on this post, plus one sculpture I liked.



Claude Monet, La Japonaise. The plaque said he was making fun of a contemporary French fetish for Japanese things. Having friends who have something similar, I couldn't help but love this picture.



Preston Singletary, Raven Steals the Moon. I don't usually like anything made after maybe 1940, but this is from 1963 so go figure. I just love the smooth, finished look; the detail on the moon portion; and the contrast between the heavy, dark presence (via the red and black) of the raven, and the ephemeral, light presence of the moon. The long, sleek raven's head gives a sense of motion, much like Constantin Brancusi's Bird in Space, but I dislike Brancusi's work because it only tries to suggest motion. Brancusi's work lacks the form of a bird, whereas Singletary suggests motion without sacrificing form. Form is a very important part of art.



Jean-Antoine Watteau, La Perspective. I always remember not remembering Watteau in quiz bowl, and true to form I couldn't remember what I couldn't remember him for having done (in the words of Sports Night, that was a truly spectacular sentence). True to form, I had to look up that he was a (French) Rococo artist. This isn't one of his most famous works, but I saw the name, remembered the past, and took the shot.



Rembrandt van Rijn, Reverend Johannes Elison. Rembrandt painted this. There's your exposition.



Gilbert Stuart, John Adams. Stuart is considered one of the foremost portrait artists in American history, and he can be considered without American peer in the Revolutionary War era. Given that this is Boston, the Adams family should be expected to be found here, and so it is. A former president and founding father painted by one of the best American portrait painters? Yeah, I needed a copy.

Odds and Ends

Unfortunately for my desire to get out and into Boston more, rain has persisted the past few days. In fact today was the first sunny day all week, so of course I spent it in an office and then going jogging instead of getting out and really enjoying it. Alas and alack.

So that said, I haven’t got much to post. I moved into the studio I’ll be using for the last 2/3 of my stay in Cambridge, and I’ve got some pictures of it. The room is fairly large and the futon is fairly comfortable, making my only complaint the lack of an air conditioner.






As for work, I’m finally spending most of my time doing things other than data collection; I’m getting to do actual statistics (read: economics, as that’s what it’s turning into). That makes me feel both better for my employers for getting value for what they’ve employed and better for myself as it makes it more likely something worthwhile will come out of my stay (such as perhaps another paper on which to put my name? We’ll see…).

So with nothing much to say I decided to post something I wrote 2 years ago and just found again. I heard again a song from a few years ago about putting yourself in another person’s shoes and decided I had just heard that phrase once too often. My personal diatribe against is as follows.

One of the great equalizers in moral arguments is that it is impossible to understand another's decisions unless we walk a mile in their shoes. As generally seems to be the case in such arguments, this platitude is used especially to excuse the morally questionable decisions that another person makes. The reasoning behind this platitude is that if we found ourselves in the same situation as the person in question, then we would have at least considered as a possible course of action the very thing we are decrying as immoral.

The problem with this argument is that we are always asked to walk the mile that has them in this trouble, in the precarious position; more often than not, could we choose a mile to walk in the person's life, we would choose to start before they got themselves into the trouble most likely by another action we question. And this is the argument's flaw—it asks us to grant as a hypothetical premise that we failed to follow our code of morality, and then asks us whether we could deny that breaking our code of morality is a reasonable option.

The argument is supposed to show that morality is non-absolute, that in certain circumstances even the strongest adherent to a moral code can admit it (unfairly, to the arguer's eye) restricts our choices. What it actually shows is that we will be much less limited in the future if we only bind ourselves now to our moral code. Asking, for instance, if a girl should be allowed an abortion because she got herself pregnant and having the baby would ruin her life can be circumvented entirely if we teach her to follow a morality in which sex comes after she is in a position to care for the potential child. Asking if I should harm someone to help me escape after I rob a store can be circumvented entirely if I am taught to follow a morality in which I do not rob stores.

Chesterton spoke of moral codes as a set of walls, as did many of his contemporaries. But where they referred to the confining walls of a suffocating moral code, he recognized them as the invigorating walls of a liberating moral code. We are children playing on a cliff-top, he said, and we build walls that we may relieve our fear of falling. Liberate us from these walls, then, and you risk liberating us from our freedom. For the walls shelter and protect us, defining a place where we might with furious passion live our lives to the fullest. But if the walls are removed, so too is the furious passion. We become, instead of children playing lightheartedly in our place of safety, a huddled mass edging back from the cliffs afraid that we might fall.

In this modern time we hear grand and glorious, perhaps vainglorious, exaltations of liberty and freedom, and the speakers of these statements entreat us to move to unbridled liberty, the cure-all, the elixir of life, the silver bullet of their philosophy. But this freedom of action is bound by the necessity of feeling the consequences of these actions. These consequences can be avoided very simply by avoiding the actions that cause them. The morality decried as restrictive and primitive by these champions of liberty does indeed limit what we may do; but by limiting what I may do I free myself of what I must feel.

Freedom costs a buck oh five (or $15 for audio)

On Saturday this past weekend I took the advice given by both some family friends and my old department head and I went on the Freedom Trail. The trail is a walking path throughout the city of Boston that carries one to various sites related to the Revolutionary War (RW), hence the name Freedom Trail.

There are two options: guided tours, led by a person dressed in RW-era clothing; and an audio tour that can be rented and enjoyed at a personal pace. Always feeling embarrassed for people dressed as though they lived 200 years ago, especially if they try to impersonate someone who did (look, Mr. Ben Franklin/George Washington/Samuel Adams impersonator, it’s never funny to ask what this newfangled “electricity” or “telephone” is; it’s just sad and embarrassing), I went with the audio tour for an extra $3. I could have it out for up to 8 hours so long as I dropped it off at the last location (apparently some people give up halfway through; losers), but I walk a little quickly and didn’t feel like wasting an extra $30 for a rushed tour of some of the buildings. My only complaints were 1) I should have brought a water bottle; 2) I shouldn’t have worn flip-flops to walk the 2.5 mile journey (notice a pattern?), and 3) the audio guide had way too much Edward Kennedy, in terms of his talking on the guide or his being talked about on the guide.

To ensure that you can find your way even with the tour, the city has created a path through the sidewalks, a red-line on the sidewalk that leads you along the way. This, in conjunction with a map, keeps one on the path and points out the next audio item. At one point the path goes over a bridge, so I had to take photos of the bridge it went over to show my sister, who has had to drive over one like this. The experience is a little scarier when you are on foot and can feel the grate shaking as cars, trucks, and busses speed by on the “road” portion of the bridge.



I don’t want to go into details too much, because I hope everyone who visits will go on it and enjoy it themselves. I’ll show a few pictures of the sights at the end of the post. Afterwards, I walked most of the way back to the start because (I’m an idiot? Come on, I know you thought it; so did I) I didn’t know where any subway stops were and I wanted to try some suggested food. Accordingly, I went to an area in the harbor where 2 suggestions had been made, the Daily Catch (by my old boss) and the Barking Crab (by my old office-mate, Laura). After flipping a coin, I went to the Daily Catch (sorry, Laura; your places are on for these next few weeks, though). I got to try grilled swordfish for only the second time in my life, and it was even better than I remembered.

So that was Saturday. Sunday I went to church, watched The Dark Knight, and then did some weekend work to make up for a foolish mistake I had made during the week. And that was my weekend.

I can make it anywhere...

If we define "making it" as surviving my visit and having enjoyed myself, then yes, Mr. Sinatra, I can make it anywhere. This past weekend I bussed down to New York City to hang out with a friend and had a great time.
My personal thoughts on city life can generally be summed up with "it's not for me." I've always felt that the city adds complications to life that are best avoided in suburbia, where I've basically always lived. Having spent a few days in that city and adding it to my time in London, though, I'm starting to reevaluate that. I still prefer the freedom that comes with living in suburbia, and I somewhat paradoxically think everyone should live like that, but I can see why people enjoy the city and desire to live there.
Describing what all we did would take more time than I feel like. We hit sights and ate good food and generally enjoyed ourselves. But more than just the things we saw (and yes, photographed), the really fun parts of the trip were hanging out with my friend and some of his. I've long thought people and their interactions with one another are the most important worldly thing, and so meeting new people and getting to know them is always a pleasure (an unexpected sentiment from an introvert, but there it is). Especially nice was getting to meet someone else who will be at NU next year; now I know in advance someone with whom to just relax and have a good time.

Fenway Park

I finally got out to a ballgame at Fenway earlier this week. On Tuesday I watched a great game, Red Sox against the Twins. I say a great game; it was really very boring until the 8th, when the Red Sox got a few men on base, punched in a run, and then Manny Ramirez came to the plate and deposited the baseball into an account over the center field wall to tie the game.

The park was obviously "historic" (i.e. old), but in spite of it is still a great park. I sat beyond the right field wall in what I was told were the worst seats in the ballpark, but aside from a girder that blocked a tiny portion of the view and none of the action I thought the seats were quite nice. I've included some pictures on here of the view I had.

The other thing worth noting is the crowd. Having been a college fan the past few years, I've grown accustomed to being involved in the game (and given my friends, I really mean "involved"). Most pro parks I've visited are generally kind of quiet for most of the game, and there were stretches like that on Tuesday. But overall I was quite impressed at how much the fans were involved. I've been told that it's been called a playoff atmosphere during every game, and I can really see it.

I have another month and a half, and if I get a chance to head out over a weekend I plan on getting a wider variety of shots (and more importantly, watch more baseball). Perhaps you will see some more of them. That said, I need to get going to catch a bus to NYC and visit a friend. I'm sure I'll have some photos and comments after the weekend.

Fenway Photos:

One Week Review

Though I hesitate to say that I am wiser, more knowledgeable, after only a week, I’m still going to make you people listen as though this is a milestone. And maybe it is.

So, without further adieu, things I’ve learned in the past week:

1) My family is crazy.

Just read the comments sections to understand this one.

2) Big cities like explosives.

The fireworks display put on by the city of Boston was phenomenal, more fireworks than any other single celebration I’ve ever seen (though Epcot for a celebration at midnight on Dec. 31 was close). There wasn’t much wind, though, so about half of the show was viewed like cloud-to-cloud lightning (there you go, Pat): parts of a cloud sometimes got brighter than the rest (and some of those flashes were colored). It was interesting, though I suppose I would have preferred to see those parts of the show.

3) Variety is the spice of life…

But sometimes you want something you’ve always had. There are restaurants from many different cultures here, and I’ve enjoyed getting to have Indian food again, some good Thai food, Mexican (though they didn’t have salsa, stupid salmonella), and fish and chips which I suppose is technically British. All that said, the best two meals I’ve had since getting here were Thai food (with sweet chili sauce; ooh that stuff is good) and a cheeseburger at a corner pub just half a block away from where I’m staying. What were two of my favorite restaurants in AR: a hamburger joint in Fort Smith and a Thai place in Fayetteville. Sometimes, all you want is what you’re used to.

4) Practice is useful.

In this case, practice means living away from friends and family, from my comfort zone. I’m starting to get used to this, which makes grad school look a little more manageable. That being said, I’m sure the solo life up there will be different than the one down here, so maybe this isn’t much practice after all.

That’s it for musings after week 1. I did, by the way, come up with another thing to do while I’m here—visit the Sam Adams brewery. We’ll see what else there is.

Greetings from Cambridge!

I have arrived (safely, for all of you who told me to have a safe trip, as though there’s any way I can ensure the pilots who fly planes I ride will fly safely) in Cambridge, MA, to begin a 2 month stint as a research assistant for a Harvard professor. Two days in I have begun to get a feel for the city and am nearing the point when (at least around this campus) I no longer need to carry a map.

My room for the first half of the stay is nice, a room in the landlady’s house that she rents to boarders. Nothing large, though larger than my last room, but it suits me well.

My office is also nice though small, and is located in the Taubman building of the Kennedy School of Government. I’m not quite used to this whole “one monitor” thing they have going on—do people still do that?—but the co-workers are friendly, the area (at least for summer) is quiet, and the work is interesting if slow-moving.

Apparently my first cousin once removed (according to an unimpeachable source on family relations—my mom) lives in Cambridge. I say apparently because I don’t know what it takes to be a first cousin once removed. We’re going to meet for the 4^th of July and take in a fireworks display.

At some point I need to figure out all of the things I want to do while I am here, and the sooner the better so that I can begin to research how to do them. Among the highlights:

1) Fenway Park (shocking, I know).

2) If possible, Cape Cod league baseball (see a pattern?)

3) Boston Tea Party ship

4) Old North Church

5) Fenway Park (I couldn’t help it).

If anyone has ideas, let me know.