Reader; All American Experience, Amusing the Million, Coney Island Frolics:
What I noticed while reading these last three sources was the way that Coney seemed to strip away all identifying characteristics of the people who attended the parks. Thats not to say that they became mindless automatons, but rather that their individual culture and social class seemed to dissipate in lieu of the festivities of the park.
In the All American Adventure, Lilly Daché says, "'What would Mam say, if she knew that I smiled at a strange young man I never saw before. This is what she warned me about, No nice girl would ever think of doing such an unladylike thing'" (2). We see that the park takes Lilly out of her natural comfort zone and rigid social code to enjoy the freedom of the amusement. Her previous culture is stripped away in favor a relaxed society loosely bound by the search of entertainment.
Likewise Thompson comments, "People are just boys and girls grown tall. Elaborated child's play is what they want on a holiday. Sliding down cellar doors and the make-believes of youngsters are the most effective amusements for grown ups" (6). For Thompson's case, the adults suspend their airs of maturity and become children once more. Yet another level of their identity stripped away.
Finally Fox makes note, "If it were not for the men who accompany them it would he impossible to recognize them as the same persons who but a little while ago entered those diminutive rooms" (1). The woman who go to Coney to bath strip away the makeup and the fashion of the time to become nearly different people. They shed the entrapment of their old lives and culture for the freedom offered at Coney.
So then, is this freedom from prior culture and status a good or a bad thing (to put it rather elementary)? How should we view this trait of Coney Island in a historical perspective? And what does it show us about the changing nature of American culture?
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Abstracting the Real for Real Enjoyment
Amusing the Millions 55-112:
The section that most stood out to me in reading the last parts of Kasson's work was a small segment on pages 72 and 73. Kasson writes, "Coney abstracted features from larger society and presented them in an intensified, fantastic forms. Instruments of production and efficiency were transformed into objects of amusement, and life around them lifted from the dull routine to exhilarating pageantry" (73). With this statement he also includes two pictures with the captions, "Miners descending for work" and, "Thrill seekers descending for pleasure" respectively.
I thought this was an interesting take on the forms of entertainment that Coney Island produced. Kasson seems to be arguing that Coney's attractions serve as fantastic microcosms for the society at large. The owners of the parks seemed to be taking aspects of the working class, such as the miner's track and transforming them into amusing rides. So something that an individual would be loath to go out outside of the parks now become prime attractions.
In the same way, the recreated natural disasters at Luna Park mirror the tragedies of the past, but do so in a perverted, re-imagined, romanticized way. The attractions turned past catastrophes into the entertainment of the day. In respect, this could also be the source of America's fascination with disaster films today.
So my question is for what reason were these rides such draws to people? They could have experienced similar things in the working world and yet now they pay good money to do the same thing in a different setting. And why were recreated disasters such a big hit? Does it relate somehow to the society as a whole, or to human nature?
The section that most stood out to me in reading the last parts of Kasson's work was a small segment on pages 72 and 73. Kasson writes, "Coney abstracted features from larger society and presented them in an intensified, fantastic forms. Instruments of production and efficiency were transformed into objects of amusement, and life around them lifted from the dull routine to exhilarating pageantry" (73). With this statement he also includes two pictures with the captions, "Miners descending for work" and, "Thrill seekers descending for pleasure" respectively.
I thought this was an interesting take on the forms of entertainment that Coney Island produced. Kasson seems to be arguing that Coney's attractions serve as fantastic microcosms for the society at large. The owners of the parks seemed to be taking aspects of the working class, such as the miner's track and transforming them into amusing rides. So something that an individual would be loath to go out outside of the parks now become prime attractions.
In the same way, the recreated natural disasters at Luna Park mirror the tragedies of the past, but do so in a perverted, re-imagined, romanticized way. The attractions turned past catastrophes into the entertainment of the day. In respect, this could also be the source of America's fascination with disaster films today.
So my question is for what reason were these rides such draws to people? They could have experienced similar things in the working world and yet now they pay good money to do the same thing in a different setting. And why were recreated disasters such a big hit? Does it relate somehow to the society as a whole, or to human nature?
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Pleasure’s Play is Leisure’s Lay
John F. Kasson makes a very bold claim on page 3 of Amusing the Million, “Nowhere were these symbols and their relationship to the new mass audience more clearly revealed than at the turn of the century Coney Island”. How well do the evens and structure of the amusement parks at Coney Island truly reflect the changing values of the urban Americans?
Going through these first few chapters it seems that Coney Island is a microcosm for the whole of city existence. As opposed to Olmsted’s Central park which was purely for the purpose of “contemplation of natural scenery” exists only to further the materialist idealism that overtook American thought which started by around the turn of the century (13). It was “seized upon the new opportunities for profit in amusement” (31). Coney island became another source of wealth for enterprising individuals and another place for people to lose their hard earned dollars, even after the gambling huts and prostitutes were carted away. The owners were clearly “[oriented] toward quantity” of guests to make the maximum possible profit (33).
Also like the city, Coney Island’s amusement parks cater to a number of different ethnic groups. “Coney Island provided attractions and generated a sense of festivity in many respects familiar to frequents of, say, New York’s Italian street festivals, band concerts, and theatre, or to celebrants of Purim and patrons of Yiddish theatre” (39). The island both attracted and embraced all of the different ethnic groups that New York similarly welcomed.
So can we consider Coney island a reflection of the city, or as an escape from the city that so many claimed it was? Or is it some combination of both?
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Business as Usual
How The Other Half Lives 24, 25:
Something that I noticed while reading these chapters was Riis' focus on business and capitalism to fix the problem of the poor in the tenements. He states that the Law acts out of a "desire to educate rather than force the community into a better way". His critique is that the government is acting too slowly in their intervention. The US government at this time like many other nations, was following the notion of laissez-faire capitalism, which, as the French means, a hands off approach to most things, including business and social-economical trends in the population.
Though this may seem the argument of a socialist, Riis takes a different turn, "The business of housing the poor, if it is to amount to anything, must be business, as it was business with our fathers to put them where they are. As charity, pastime, or fad, it will miserably fail, always and everywhere". Though we consider Riis and his fellow muck-rakers as progressives, he is actually following again with the prescribed traditions of his time.
He obviously wants the poor to be helped, but he understands their problem in a capitalist mindset. Riis cannot go beyond the bonds of the system, whether or not he can mentally ascertain a different system or that he is just following standards to connect more easily to his audience. He's writing to a middle class audience, many of whom buy into the system to make money, and cannot turn them away with a new idea that would destroy their social class and position.
So is Riis doing this intentionally? Or is he simply the result of the system in which he exists?
Something that I noticed while reading these chapters was Riis' focus on business and capitalism to fix the problem of the poor in the tenements. He states that the Law acts out of a "desire to educate rather than force the community into a better way". His critique is that the government is acting too slowly in their intervention. The US government at this time like many other nations, was following the notion of laissez-faire capitalism, which, as the French means, a hands off approach to most things, including business and social-economical trends in the population.
Though this may seem the argument of a socialist, Riis takes a different turn, "The business of housing the poor, if it is to amount to anything, must be business, as it was business with our fathers to put them where they are. As charity, pastime, or fad, it will miserably fail, always and everywhere". Though we consider Riis and his fellow muck-rakers as progressives, he is actually following again with the prescribed traditions of his time.
He obviously wants the poor to be helped, but he understands their problem in a capitalist mindset. Riis cannot go beyond the bonds of the system, whether or not he can mentally ascertain a different system or that he is just following standards to connect more easily to his audience. He's writing to a middle class audience, many of whom buy into the system to make money, and cannot turn them away with a new idea that would destroy their social class and position.
So is Riis doing this intentionally? Or is he simply the result of the system in which he exists?
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Losing My Religion
How the Other Half Lives 9, 10, 12, 13:
I found it interesting the parallels that Riis draws between race and religion.
"John Chinaman", as Riis so racistly puts it, follows no faith (according to Riis who is obviously ignoring Confucianism, Taoism, or Buddhism) because their "gentle teachings" are "beyond his grasp". Again he is reinforcing the contemporary notion of racial hierarchy, in which the Asians occupy the bottom rung. He continues to say that it is impossible for them to understand Christianity and if "he adopts [it] at all [...]" it is for an "ulterior motive", one of scam or thrift. This stereotyping is typical of the time considering the age of imperialism and colonialism in which Riis writes.
The next group he goes to are the Jewish people, set apart from everyone in race and religion. When discussing the schools that teach the Talmud he states that the professor's "native instinct for money making having been smothered in the process that has made him a learned man". Again the Jewish people are seen as vulture-like, parasitic creatures on society, who exist for the sake of "thrift", and swindling others out of their money. It seems strange then that Riis states he is tryng to bring awareness to their situation for the purpose of improving it. Riis is obviously more guided by his racist "native instinct" then that of a progressive individual.
Finally he comes to the Bohemians who are "Roman Catholics by birth, infidels by necessity, and Protestants by history and inclination". The Germans and others of their genealogy are the most physically and culturally similar to the WASPs of the new world, and yet they are still vilified. For Riis it seems to be not only a question of race and religion but also social class that makes the people groups valuable to soceity.
Is there anything else worth noting in Riis' work other than his racism and protrayal of racial groups?
Bye,
Jon
I found it interesting the parallels that Riis draws between race and religion.
"John Chinaman", as Riis so racistly puts it, follows no faith (according to Riis who is obviously ignoring Confucianism, Taoism, or Buddhism) because their "gentle teachings" are "beyond his grasp". Again he is reinforcing the contemporary notion of racial hierarchy, in which the Asians occupy the bottom rung. He continues to say that it is impossible for them to understand Christianity and if "he adopts [it] at all [...]" it is for an "ulterior motive", one of scam or thrift. This stereotyping is typical of the time considering the age of imperialism and colonialism in which Riis writes.
The next group he goes to are the Jewish people, set apart from everyone in race and religion. When discussing the schools that teach the Talmud he states that the professor's "native instinct for money making having been smothered in the process that has made him a learned man". Again the Jewish people are seen as vulture-like, parasitic creatures on society, who exist for the sake of "thrift", and swindling others out of their money. It seems strange then that Riis states he is tryng to bring awareness to their situation for the purpose of improving it. Riis is obviously more guided by his racist "native instinct" then that of a progressive individual.
Finally he comes to the Bohemians who are "Roman Catholics by birth, infidels by necessity, and Protestants by history and inclination". The Germans and others of their genealogy are the most physically and culturally similar to the WASPs of the new world, and yet they are still vilified. For Riis it seems to be not only a question of race and religion but also social class that makes the people groups valuable to soceity.
Is there anything else worth noting in Riis' work other than his racism and protrayal of racial groups?
Bye,
Jon
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Worth a Thousand Words
The Mirror With a Memory:
Going through this reading I was reminded of my IB art class a great deal. In this class we had to do artist critiques very often where we'd examine the works put out by the different artists we were studying and apply the different elements and principles of art to their works. Judging from this reading and from my experience looking over Riis' images I'd have to say that his work was not that of an amateur. While he claims he "had to use it [...] and beyond that [he] never went"the images he produced were so high grade that I'm disinclined to believe this. Each shot was taken with extreme care to show exactly what Riis wanted to be seen. They are both artistic and aesthetic. They show the squalor of the urban poor so precisely and meticulously that he could not have just snapped a picture and moved on.
In the case of "Five Cents a Spot" the scene is taken as a whole. It shows the whole of the room, further adding to the idea of crowded-ness. The people and their surroundings are dingy and dirty, further emphasized by the dark values in the room. Such a rendering took careful thought, obvious with the intent to provoke sympathy, so it's highly unlikely that Riis only used photography because he had to.
Any other art students/ex-students, do you agree with this interpretation? Can you find just as many artistic techniques as I have in any number of Riis' pictures?
да спаткання,
Jon
Going through this reading I was reminded of my IB art class a great deal. In this class we had to do artist critiques very often where we'd examine the works put out by the different artists we were studying and apply the different elements and principles of art to their works. Judging from this reading and from my experience looking over Riis' images I'd have to say that his work was not that of an amateur. While he claims he "had to use it [...] and beyond that [he] never went"the images he produced were so high grade that I'm disinclined to believe this. Each shot was taken with extreme care to show exactly what Riis wanted to be seen. They are both artistic and aesthetic. They show the squalor of the urban poor so precisely and meticulously that he could not have just snapped a picture and moved on.
In the case of "Five Cents a Spot" the scene is taken as a whole. It shows the whole of the room, further adding to the idea of crowded-ness. The people and their surroundings are dingy and dirty, further emphasized by the dark values in the room. Such a rendering took careful thought, obvious with the intent to provoke sympathy, so it's highly unlikely that Riis only used photography because he had to.
Any other art students/ex-students, do you agree with this interpretation? Can you find just as many artistic techniques as I have in any number of Riis' pictures?
да спаткання,
Jon
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
How the Other Century Lived
How the Other Half Lives:
The line I was really drawn to in reading Chapters 1-4 was in the third chapter (yeah no page numbers), "The poorest immigrant comes here with the purpose and ambition to better himself, and given half a chance, might be reasonably expected to make the most of it". I found this to be particularly striking because of the differences I see between the immigrants of the turn of the century and the people of today. Riis seems to agree with Alger, that the American dream is still real, and that one just needs to have the drive and maybe a little luck to achieve it. Today so few Americans are still chasing this dream. They believe that the rights and privileges of American citizenry are obligatory, that they are entitled to them. This cannot be further from the truth. One still needs to WORK for a living, they need to CONTRIBUTE to society in a meaningful way, they can't just party it up like the idiots on Jersey Shore (I know, I'm ashamed I even mentioned that show here too). Thats why I admire the individuals Riis portrays so much more than anyone in my generation (Very stereotypically of course).
The immigrants that Riis shows live hard lives, unfair lives, lives deemed to be of little consequence or meaning, but they fought for what they had. The policies that the government enacted to preserve their lives were just, and long overdue. The contributions they made helped to bring this nation into the modern age. They lived in squalid conditions to be sure, but out of that filth came a generation of men and women who rose above the odds, to "better themselves", and who overcame. They were the true Americans, regardless of their origin of birth.
Ok, that does it for my tirade. How does it make you feel? Do you pity those depicted less? Do you not feel so superior to their conditions? It's humbling to me at least.
Agur,
Jon
The line I was really drawn to in reading Chapters 1-4 was in the third chapter (yeah no page numbers), "The poorest immigrant comes here with the purpose and ambition to better himself, and given half a chance, might be reasonably expected to make the most of it". I found this to be particularly striking because of the differences I see between the immigrants of the turn of the century and the people of today. Riis seems to agree with Alger, that the American dream is still real, and that one just needs to have the drive and maybe a little luck to achieve it. Today so few Americans are still chasing this dream. They believe that the rights and privileges of American citizenry are obligatory, that they are entitled to them. This cannot be further from the truth. One still needs to WORK for a living, they need to CONTRIBUTE to society in a meaningful way, they can't just party it up like the idiots on Jersey Shore (I know, I'm ashamed I even mentioned that show here too). Thats why I admire the individuals Riis portrays so much more than anyone in my generation (Very stereotypically of course).
The immigrants that Riis shows live hard lives, unfair lives, lives deemed to be of little consequence or meaning, but they fought for what they had. The policies that the government enacted to preserve their lives were just, and long overdue. The contributions they made helped to bring this nation into the modern age. They lived in squalid conditions to be sure, but out of that filth came a generation of men and women who rose above the odds, to "better themselves", and who overcame. They were the true Americans, regardless of their origin of birth.
Ok, that does it for my tirade. How does it make you feel? Do you pity those depicted less? Do you not feel so superior to their conditions? It's humbling to me at least.
Agur,
Jon
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