I know this image—I think I saw it over 20 years ago as part of a series of prints my father made before he died. This photograph, however, was taken on December 15, 2010, by AP photographer Alkis Konstantinidis in Athens during a violent labor protest over recent austerity measures taken by the government of Greece.

If you look carefully at the movement of the hooded men throwing the molotov cocktails in the photograph, you can see a similar approach in works below by my father and in this image. Is that because of a reality captured by both, or the result of decisions made by the image “makers” about how to animate the rectangle that is their stage? Maybe a little of both.

My father’s series of paintings, drawings and prints were based on a dream of terrorists descending upon a football game at the University of Texas. At the time, the word “terrorist” was infrequently used. Even if we are not looking at “terrorists” in the AP photo—and who’s to say—we are certainly living in a very different world now. What’s interesting is that in both cases, your view of the “event”—and where you stand in relation to it—can swing 180 degrees depending upon what circumstances it is said to represent.

What I’d like to know is, how did my father generate images that were such an accurate portent of things to come?

More information on Robert L. Levers, Jr.

Mark Bradford at the Institute of Contemporary Art,
Boston, Nov. 19, 2010—March 13, 2011

In text found on the ICA website, 2009 MacArthur Fellow Bradford is said to explore “issues of class, race, and gender in American urban society.” That may be true, but those issues are only the starting point for works which are ultimately a feast for the retina. At the end of the day, formal concerns which include surface texture, color, and edge are what make his best work successful.

His layering of found paper, such as commercially printed posters and billboards—and the use of string to draw dimensionally—provide a wonderfully mysterious surface which he partially excavates and covers with sanding, painting and collaging. Organizationally many of the large works in the show resemble maps or overhead shots of cities, but this aspect of the work is not really a key to understanding what’s going on. Rather, it is color, the dimensionality of the surface, and the partially revealed shapes which animate the surface—in this, he is an artist with very traditional concerns. That said, this a show you should not miss.

Most experienced graphic designers do not participate in open calls for logo designs. There’s a good reason why clients shouldn’t either.

1.You can count on your logo being developed by inexperienced designers. Because this process is seen as an opportunity for young people to build a portfolio, you’ll need to be concerned about potential problems from poorly executed solutions. Incorrectly formatted files that don’t print properly and logos illegible at certain sizes are just a few of the issues you might have to confront. Also, who will tell you that “looking good” doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s a good or appropriate design for your logo?

2. Your logo will be an isolated element, not really part of an integrated corporate identity. Applications of your logo are likely to be no more than a case of pasting it wherever it’s needed—and that’s not an identity. Designers that have a track record depend on more than their sense of design to deliver successful solutions. A familiarity with marketing strategy and the big picture—and asking the right questions—result in a successful and consistent approach that inexperience just doesn’t deliver.

3. The best designers will leave the field after a time because they can’t make a living based on this model. That’s bad for everyone. Our ability to communicate should not be based on the work of amateurs. This process is sometimes defended as a way for young people to get experience, but it’s not sustainable. When one gets paid for his or her thinking through competitions, then the effective hourly rate is pretty low. If this really were the smart use of “group intelligence,” as it has been heralded, then it wouldn’t be a competition, but cooperation instead—and that’s not what clients want to shell out for.

In short, you get what you pay for. If we continue to rely on this approach, after a time it will be hard to find the kind of expertise required to develop an identity that does its job effectively because the professionals will all be doing something else. (By the way, how do you like my writing?)

It’s been a good fall so far for music in the Boston area, especially when you take into account the free concerts that have been presented outdoors. What’s made that even sweeter is the weather we’ve had. A few weeks ago I went to the Berklee Beantown Jazz Festival. Okay, not all of it was jazz, but we were able to hear the likes of Greg Osby play some pretty straight-ahead stuff, Alex Acuña’s disappointing new band, and Victor Mendoza—the Mexican vibraphone player who teaches at Berklee—with his tight new latin jazz group. They all fit the description.

This afternoon I went to HONK!, the annual festival of “activist street bands” held in Davis Square in Somerville. This is the fifth one they’ve held and the third I’ve attended. As the festival has increased in popularity, the distance bands are willing to travel to participate has also grown. What has emerged as well is a wider gap in ability. What all share, however, is a commitment to intrude on the usual. It is impossible to be in the presence of one of these bands and not feel moved to respond to a kind of instantaneous communal heartbeat. A quick reminder that one is alive!

Festival literature describes these bands as finding musical inspiration from many sources—“New Orleans second line brass bands, European Klezmer, Balkan and Romani music, Brazilian Afro Bloc and Frevo traditions, as well as the passion and spirit of Mardi Gras and Carnival.” We heard all those, and more.

Other interests manifested themselves in many ways. As you can see from some of the photos, there was a pretty much do-it-yourself approach to costumes, even within the same band. Instrumentation was not limited to wind and percussion instruments—when was the last time you saw an electric guitar being played with the amp strapped to the player’s back in a street band? Politics were liberal and more than that—the Leftist Marching band from Portsmouth delighted us with their very well played Charlie Haden/Carla Bley arrangement of El Pueblo Unido Jamás Será Vencido!

But politics had the last word at the Bread and Puppet Circus Band’s performance. After a few songs, the Rotten Idea Theatre Company was introduced as part of the “show.” It consisted of five people in giant masks and a young narrator who proceeded with some tired agitprop. A woman who appeared to be in her late 60s stopped the show with a yell: “Hey…Hey, that’s really boring! I’ve seen that a million times!” She was absolutely right, but not kind, especially given the spirit of the day. The music resumed after the departure of the thespians, but it never really quite  found its footing again. Luckily, there were five other bands playing at the same time, so I took a stroll…

Matthew Carter is one of the 2010 recipients of a MacArthur Fellows award. It is well-deserved recognition for his particularly intelligent and graceful solutions to typographic problems, a good number of which did not even exist at the beginning of his career. (Ink on paper works quite differently than an rgb monitor.)

As a type designer, his contributions are often viewed in service of the work of graphic designers. However, without the “tools” he’s developed, much of what designers do would not be possible in the same way. His work reflects a thorough knowledge of traditional styles, yet is in sympathy with the 21st century. He is responsible for the designs of over 60 typeface families and 250 individual fonts, including many you know intimately, if not by name.

His notable designs include Bell Centennial, a face which allowed the telephone company to reduce the size of the type while retaining legibility; Verdanna and Georgia, THE legible faces of the web; and many of the preferred versions of classics like Baskerville and Caslon.

Carter sees this award from the MacArthur Foundation not as recognition for a successful career coming to a close, but rather as encouragement to keep going. I look forward to next chapter.

I’m into my 15th week or so of my farm share. Since I last mentioned it here, we’ve also bought into a fish share from a cooperative in Gloucester, Massachusetts. Besides providing me with a new appreciation of where my food comes from, I’ve had to add to my repertoire of recipes—in addition to the encounters with unfamiliar vegetables, the sheer volume of produce delivered each week has forced me to be inventive with even those items from the farm that are familiar.

Recipes are often included in the email that tells you what to expect in a particular pickup—the fish share email even tells you which boat caught your supper. Though we’ve received a different kind of fish each week—ever heard of dab?—it is usually some type of groundfish, like cod or haddock, so I’ve tried to vary the preparation. (Because we get the fish within 24 hours of it being caught, I think I see a ceviche in our future.)

Speaking with the folks from whom I pick up my shares has given me some insight into the problems—and joys—of being on the frontlines of the human end of the food chain. It also makes the connection between food provider and eater a personal one.

Come November—when my farm share stops—I will be in serious withdrawal from the fresh bounty I’ve become accustomed to getting each week. Thank goodness it’ll start again next June.