Guide Dog FAQ by Igor GuideDog

 Can I pet you?

No, I’m working. Duh.

 

What is your name?

You talkin to me?!

 

Can I pet you now?

1 Strangers’ hands on me make me uncomfortable.

2 stop staring: unless you want to fight

3 and please, this constant chattering in silly voice is totally embarrassing for all.

 

Oh, please can I pet you?!

If, by chance, my mommy thinks you are worthy, she will introduce us and then you may give me a little pat if you must, and then run along or stay, whatever.

 

Do you bite?

Why do you think I have these big, ugly, nasty, teeth?!

 

Do you ever get to play?

Pretty much every waking moment when at home.

 

What do you like to play?

Chase After Kong Like a Mad Dog and Bring it to Mommy Throw it Again Game.

 

Do you like being a guide dog?

Yes! And According to wonderful trainer Sue at the Seeing Eye, I took to it right away and was super talented and enthusiastic from the start!

 

How long was your training?

Four months of formal guide dog training but before that I lived with a nice family who raised me from a 2 month old pup to be sociable and obedient.  When I began my formal guide dog training at The Seeing Eye I already knew the cues for sit, heel, down, etc.

 

How old are you?

I’ll be three in November.

 

How can you tell when it’s safe to cross the street??

This is complicated. You ready?

Ok.  so I don’t determine when to walk; I do not read (whatever that is), and I’m not so good at colors.  Rather, Mommy listens for parallel traffic and then gives the cue for forward.  Generally speaking – like 99percent of the time she is right.  (I love my mommy).  But sometimes she asks me to go and I refuse because there is a car turning in front of us or something, and then I get to do this thing called intelligent disobedience and pull or push her out of the way or simply refuse to budge.  This is exciting because when it happens, mommy gets very teary eyed and gives me lots of praise.

 

How do you know where to go?

Sadly, I can’t read mommy’s mind but, generally speaking if there is a place that we’ve been before, I will give mommy a little pause and a look to ask if we are going in again and she says yea or nay, but if it is a place I’ve never been then I have to wait for mommy to show me.

 

Now can I pet you?

Grrr!

Embracing Dissonance

WE won! The Star of Happiness is proud to announce that it will be a part of Horse Trade’s miniFRIDGE in the summer of 2011.  Thanks to all those who came out and supported, an huge appreciation to David Lowe for producing some perfectly weird video and to luckydave for helping with tech.  both of these super talented guys have agreed to help out with the final production which will be nearly an hour in length and a culmination of a couple of year’s worth of research inspired by Helen’s four year stint on the vaudeville circuit.

I sometimes worry about putting so much pressure on Helen’s time on vaudeville.  After all, it was a mere four years in the long and impressive life of a woman named one of the most influential people of the twentieth century and whose name has been household for over one hundred and twenty years, though admittedly I just met someone the other day who claimed never to have heard of Helen Keller(!), which was a reminder to never take anything for granted.  But her time on vaudeville, controversial and even scandalous as it was  at the time, affords a unique opportunity to think about the relationship between spectacle and performance, oddity and entertainment.  My research into Helen’s time on vaudeville prompted me to wonder about the roots of vaudeville and its “odd act” which vaudeville producers dubbed any act that did not precisely fit into the entertainment arts.  Sometimes these acts would be informative other times sensational.  The best ones were both.

Helen had a theme song called “The Star of Happiness” written especially for her by the man who also wrote “yes, We Have No Bananas”.  She was a headliner, performing only twice a day with a premium salary, whereas lesser acts performed up to four times daily in this continuous entertainment.  Ostensibly her act was informative, but it had enough to titillate and amuse.  It cannot be said to be free of the stigma of the freak show, and yet it gave her an opportunity to voice her controversial, generally leftist, opinions that had gotten her into trouble on the more conservative lecture circuit.  She was supposed by many to be a heavenly, not political, creature. 

What interests me in this moment is its potential to be a crucible for a number of volatile substances.  Disability is as unstable a thing as a person can handle.  I will consider myself a failure if my work looks anything like a celebration of overcoming obstacles or transcending adversity or the like.  This is not that, or if it is, it is despite my best intentions.  But neither is it a flippant parody, meant only to reveal the embarrassing connections between the odd act and the freak show, though this connection is part of what drives my interest.  There is no easy interpretation of the deaf blind body offered as spectacle to the masses.  Like it or not, she was performing as herself and her fame was securely wrapped up in her person.  She was not blind, pardon, to this fact and as I hope will be clear in other places on this blog and in my performance, she often found this crippling – more crippling in certain respects than the disabilities themselves.

When I tell people about this project the most common question is “what was her act?”  and well, that will be part of my act too, so I won’t give it all away, but I can assure you that, though wholly dependent on her being there live and in the flesh, it consisted of elements as old as performance and as transcendent and hacky as vaudeville itself.

Vaudeville producers made it a point of having acts as varied as possible so as to invoke in their audiences a constant state of alertness.  The dissonance that the heart’s and mind’s of the spectators experienced as they were carried from opera to monkey acts and from buster Keaton to Helen Keller, is precisely the mental state I would like to induce.  However, I, unlike vaudeville producers who might accidentally inform their audiences if they thought it entertaining, am more like Helen who would happily entertain en route to opening eyes.

The Anatomy of Melancholy

michelle-leona godin @ the beezy douglas carnivale, spring 2010

I’m an artist and academic, whose accomplishments include getting my PhD in English Literature from NYU and not yet ending up in a pool of my own toxic waste… 

Robert Burton the black humored author of The Anatomy of Melancholy wrote in his preface to the reader: “I write of melancholy, by being busy to avoid melancholy.”  This apparently worked just fine until the enormous volume was finished and the sad scholar, bereft of work, hung himself in his Oxford rooms.  Although this last has not been confirmed by history, I’m not alone in thinking it makes a nice story and accept it as a fact of art  from a world that relates only tangentially to literal facts; an artifact from  a world where facts are the stuff of the imagination and inner eye and not the outer one and reason.

So that’s it.  this website is my Anatomy and I’m hopeful, since I don’t have to worry about publishing, or rather can constantly publish, that I likewise don’t have to worry about finishing, and can remain always and forever in the state of avoiding. 

But what are you avoiding?

Well, like my black biled brother Burton, I’m attempting to avoid the often romanticized and, if Prozac & other anti-depressants are any indication, just as often reviled stuff of the blues.  But also I’m attempting to stave off the rigor mortis associated with death, adulthood and a general fear that there is nothing more to learn and nothing more to do about the current sack of corpus you inhabit.  To stave off, in fact, the facts of life and death.  Because what better way than making art?  Art defies such molds and molderings.

So, that’s it about me.  I’m just like all the rest: making art in order to avoid annihilation!

Abstract

Seeing and not-seeing suggest a confusion between seeing metaphorically and seeing literally.  This confusion manifests in writings about poetical/critical seeing either in the mind’s eye or in the real eye.  As epistemological questions circle around the senses in the wake of empiricism the concept of seeing literally becomes more important and the metaphorics of blindness more complicated.

By examining the blind man in an age when the evidence of the senses, particularly sight, increases in importance, one finds a radical shift in ideology. The blind man, as an empirical specimen rather than a potential site for divine inspiration, deprives the Platonic ideal of meaning.  In his blindness, and in the way in which he is read through the eighteenth century, Milton represents both the poet/prophet and the specimen of empirical inquiry.

For certain early modern critics, such as Addison, the way to understand art and society is through the senses.  However, by the middle of the eighteenth century, Burke turns again to the blind man and says something quite different than had been said before.  He will empty vision of empirical sight, and he will cite real blind men as evidence for the possibility of describing the visible world without the means of sight.  For Burke the vastness of augmented sight – microscopic and telescopic – suggest the sublime, but for others particularly Swift and Pope, the microscopic eye suggests a kind of too-much of seeing that is not unrelated to blindness itself.  Lastly, I consider Samuel Johnson and his forty-year friendship with the blind lady Anna Williams, which at times suggests that his existential fears of death and doubts regarding Christianity are intimately bound up with the weightiest metaphorics of blindness.