Ramble-ations: A One D'Lo Show

“Gay Hindu Hip Hop- These 3 things make me but don't allow for one another.
This is my attempt at fusing these elements
of my being (and my imaginary friends) onto the stage”
– D’Lo

This show raised a multitude of issues surrounding the topics we've studied individually in class. While it is great to separate certain elements of our being (i.e., culture, dress, gender) in order to understand their significance and individual qualities, the reality is that these elements often cannot be separated from our being or understanding of self. In D'Lo's Ramble-ations, she relates how the essential elements that define her very being are also in constant conflict with each other: her sexuality, ethnicity, and gender each seem to contradict what the other prescribes her to be. It is fitting then, that this show came at the end of our semester. Being able to see the complexities of these individual characteristics and how they interact with or conflict with each other was powerful realization of all our readings and discussions combined. It was enjoyable (although sometimes uncomfortable) to experience this through a live performance and recognize the reality of what makes us similar but different.

Most striking to me was hearing D'Lo express the grief, anguish and distress she felt in her own skin; yet, she says, she keeps this body for the theater. Keeping herself in a body in which she feels uncomfortable the majority of the time for an art which can hopefully express some of her difficulties and relate this to an audience is a gift. While I can hardly begin to understand how D'Lo must feel, I do relate to the fact that at least once we have all felt uncomfortable in our own skin. Similarly, I feel that we all have gifts and are put on this earth for a reason: to share those gifts with others. Although her gift is also a burden, D'Lo bears it in the hopes that she can communicate to and educate people regarding acceptance, understanding, and the complexity of the human race.

After hearing Pangea founders, Meena Natarajan and Dipankar Mukherjee, speak, I was even more impressed with Pangea and its mission. Named after the original land mass from which we all originated, Pangea World Theater in Minneapolis gives a voice to those who are often under-represented in theater or the arts (or perhaps even in the world in general). I was also pleased to hear that Pangea not only talks the talk, but walks the walk. They epitomize their different philosophy not only in the work they produce, but in the ways they audition and hire actors, hold meetings, and generally operate their company.

During our class discussion, Dipankar posed some thoughtful questions that related to our previous (Wilkins) reading on space. He questioned rather we need space for legitimacy and if it is possible to create a truly secular space. While he was asking these questions in the context of Pangea's space verses the Guthrie, this same question applies to culturally expressive spaces in general, and leads me to question: Is cyberspace the only truly secular space? In cyber- or virtual space, we can mask our identities, or claim new ones, and create a democratic, secular space in which the threat of persecution is minimal and our expression is welcomed. Exploring virtual space as a identity constructor and an adaptive environment conducive to change was a concept that informed the i+TiBET project that Carrie and I worked on this semester, will continue to filter through into my thesis work in the coming year.

Informed spaces

Wilkins does a great job of explaining the importance of hip-hop to the formation of space, relating how context provides meaning and meaning contributes to identity. In the case of hip hop, the context is African American history, and the meaning is "reclaiming the Black subject from the Negro object" (2000, p.10), a phrase which Wilkins repeats liberally throughout this article.

Wilkins obviously takes a certain (but carefully argued and justified) lens through which to investigate this collective space formation–music, specifically rap turned hip-hop music. Music itself is just like space: it is used as a collective memory tool, and is dynamic and continuously updated, changed, modified, etc. Because it has the same three qualities that Lefebvre and de Certreau outline as characteristics of space formation, Wilkins is able to draw the conclusion that space can be expressed as the "'performed communication'" (2000, p.9) of sound, and therefore music (or hip hop).

Our discussion seemed a bit off track for me, but it was probably due to the fact that I was about to give a presentation on the production of space and Dolores Hayden's Politics of Space writing and was utterly consumed with this aspect of Wilkins' writing. However, there was appropriate concern addressed in the discussion surrounding the misunderstanding of hip hop culture and the misappropriation of hip hop space into mainstream architectural solutions.

Ironically, none of the individuals in the room were the people of which Wilkins was referring to as the producers of hip hop, whereas he could count himself among this group of African Americans. So, while our discussion raised issues, I still feel as though they were surface level concerns and coming from an outside perspective. Ultimately, I think Wilkins was addressing how the historical context of space and the formation of such can be investigated in order to better understand a specific population and design appropriate forms, structures, or solutions for it in the future. By looking at the space of hip hop, future architectural forms can be informed by the production and consequent meaning of space and perhaps allow for a similar responsive and organic system to develop.

Personally, I am fascinated by the concept of space. To me, much of what Wilkins said is reiterating what I am learning this semester. I have read other critiques of Lefebvre's The Production of Space, which argue that the main point is the peeling back of layers of space in order to get to the true root of its formation. This requires uncovering and investigating the political, aesthetic, and social factors that contributed to the meaning and making of a specific space, a process which I hope to explore more fully through my thesis work.

Reference:
Wilkins, C.L. (2000). (W)rapped space: The architecture of hip-hop. Journal of Architectural Education, 7-19.

Material culture

Mehta's article focuses on the difference between material possessions of Indians living in India and those who have immigrated to the western United States. There are some interesting observations including that "50 percent . . . cited their family shrine, a family idol, or their guru's photo as a favorite possession" (Mehta, 1991, p. 404), while in the United States, the number of immigrants citing religious items as the most important was significantly lower (Mehta, 1991). However, while he mentions some interesting identifiers of Indian immigrants, including the caste system, sense of a collective Indian identity, constant remittances sent back home, and the "myth of return" (1991, p. 402) to the homeland (which is also seen in other immigrant populations such as Tibetans in exile), he fails to spend much time developing these themes and how they relate to material culture and the accrual of objects.

In general, I would argue that much of what Mehta uses as proof of differences between Indians in their homeland and those who have immigrated is actually common to anyone who has left home and needs to reconstruct their sense of place. Theories of place attachment (as defined by Low & Altman) include the use of identifiers to restore or reinforce one's sense of place; in this case, when an individual's sense of place is distorted, they use material objects to replace what is missing (i.e., photographs of people as a substitute for the actual presence of those people). Mehta even gives this idea some consideration, as he references George Carlin who referred to the suitcases of travelers as "'identity kits,'" boxes that contain some materials from their home while they are on their "temporary pilgrimages as tourists." (Mehta, 1991, p. 400). In this case, much of what Mehta focuses on is too general for me to consider it specific to the Indian population.

Interestingly, our class discussion led itself to questioning aesthetics verses cultural meanings – could it be that much of these possessions or the way that people adorn and decorate their houses is due simply to aesthetic preferences? Clearly, certain preferences infiltrate into our subconscious through pure exposure to them (i.e. by living at home we are influenced by the preferences imposed on us by our parents' aesthetics); however, many of us mentioned a full rejection of such family-based preferences. This makes me conjecture that while aesthetics can easily transfer, their development over time may be related to choice: the more choices or options you have, the more you can incorporate your own aesthetics into cultural and material objects. I think this question would be worth further exploring, although the definition of aesthetics and the explanation of how such is formed and developed seems like a daunting task to say the least.


Reference:
Mehta, R., & Belk, R.W. (1991). Artifacts, identity, and transition: Favorite possessions of Indians and Indian immigrants to the United States. The Journal of Consumer Research, 17(4), 398-411.

All the world's a global buffet

After completing this week's reading, I finally understood what "ethnic" meant, at least in terms of food. Lockwood & Lockwood define ethnic as having left its country of origin; therefore, once food is produced outside of its homeland (i.e. Arab food made in America), it becomes ethnic. Similarly, Arab-American food is different from Arab food because of a variety of factors, including its displacement, origin, place of sale, and the immigrant nature of those selling and consuming it. When researching Tibetan food, Carrie and I were told that many of the dishes are similar to Indian cuisine, but are unique due to preparation style and level of spice. Lockwood and Lockwood (2000) express that a similar lack of distinction exists between Palestinian and Lebanese food, where the raw ingredients are often the same or similar but the dishes vary in their preparation style (2000, p. 521).

I felt that this article needed a bit more context in order to fully understand its intent, purpose, and message. The class discussion raised many points - although it becomes hard to distinguish which ones are relevant and which are moot. At the root of all of this, I still question: what's the point? Why do we care? Obviously, it's interesting to get into discussions regarding culture and food, just like it was interesting to discuss different ethnicities and dress. Even more fun was actually indulging in the foods everyone brought to share; in fact, I think the stories surrounding these chosen dishes were the most fascinating discussion to date.

What is interesting is that something as simple as food is revelatory in how we treat ethnicities and tend to lump groups together, when clearly sub-cultures are present as well. For instance, Chinese food in America is different from Chinese food in China – so then, what is really Chinese? Can it be lumped as one entity rather than divided into several subgroups based on location, available resources, preferences and tastes? American food is a perfect example of this: the local cuisine on the east coast is significantly different from Creole food in New Orleans, yet both are found in America. If someone asked me to take them to an American restaurant or otherwise wanted to indulge in American cuisine, I would be torn: do I take them to McDonald's, have a BBQ with hamburgers and hot dogs, or tell them to visit in August during the State Fair? What is really American food? Really, what is American anything?


All of this leaves me wondering how food preferences are developed, especially in such a diverse country as America. I'm so obsessed with food that I often take photographs of my meals; the evidence (above left) shows that I am mixing everything together into a cuisine that I find enjoyable: coffee, red pepper, a pickle, and a bagel with cream cheese, basil, and salami. Similarly, I often cook Asian cuisine and on St. Patrick's Day have been known to attempt to bake an Irish Soda Bread (never as good as Mrs. Lin O'Connor's!) If there could be an equivalent to Pico Iyer’s global soul for the ‘foodie,’ I think I might be it!


Reference:
Lockwood, W.G. and Lockwood, Y. R.. (2000) Continuity and adaptation in Arab American foodways in N Abraham; A Shryock (eds) Arab Detroit: From Margin to Mainstream. Wayne State University Press, pp. 515-559

Colors of tradition: Green and white or Red, White and Blue?

Clothing as a cultural identity may be something we take for granted in America– the land of freedom, opportunity, and choice. Here, it is common for us to categorize our fellow Americans by the way they choose to dress (punk, alternative, preppy, conservative) and likely that we identify ourselves much the same way. These identities, which could be loosely defined as signals of totemic distinction, help to define the sub-cultures to which Americans belong.

The Hmong culture has a similar structure to their traditional forms of dress, but it is less about choice and is instead pre-determined by their birth location and family origins. According to Lynch, the two primary regional groups are White Hmong and Green Hmong (shown in the images at the left and lower left, respectively). Rather than revealing what clothing preferences the wearer favors, the traditional clothing of these two groups reveals an unwritten social code related to religion, language, and the manner in which the wearer's relationship with the viewer will be hindered or limited (Lynch, 1995).

While this was the traditional purpose and function of the clothing styles, it changed significantly when the Laos Hmong fled their homeland and took residence in other locations such as the United States. Lynch's research, which focuses on the New Year's traditions of St. Paul (Minnesota) Hmong, reveals that the clothing has taken new meaning in its diasporic context. First, it is no longer worn as everyday clothing, but is only donned during special celebrations. Secondly, Hmong teenagers, who are particularly susceptible to ethnic discrimination, are finding unique and aesthetic ways of adapting the traditional clothing to their personal (or 'American') tastes and preferences. While the clothing is still created by the older generation, they are integrating American fabrics and other influences like "sequins, lace, and American trim" (Lynch, 1995, p. 264).

Reasons for this cultural authentication could be varied, but Lynch supports that in Laos, Hmong people preferred a quick and easy manner of relating their sub-group identity to others; however, when they became targets of discrimination, they needed to focus on the ties that bound verses those things which once separated them. For this reason, we start to see cultural artifacts that blend not only Hmong and American styles, but White and Green Hmong elements as well (Lynch, 1995). Although the white/green association will always be there (at least with elders), it is less important for the younger generation than the overarching nature of being Hmong in a country where that is an ethnic minority.

Two interesting points of interest that came up during this reading were a) the need for immersion in and interaction with a culture in order to fully understand it and b) the ability of an outside observer to see beyond obvious trends and reveal the reasons for or implications of a cultural adaptation that has been identified. While the first is obvious, the second seems to be a point of moderate contention, especially when discussed in class this afternoon. However, the ability of an outsider to see more than insiders is a direct result of being immersed within a different culture while still remaining objective and separate. 

Other questions that this topic raises include the consideration of older generations and the results of these modifications on future generations and the Hmong culture in general. It may be worthwhile to examine how the elders feel about the teenagers combining the sub-group styles of dress as well as integrating American flair. Also, it would be interesting to see if the totemic differences will disappear completely or will they resurface when the Hmong population feels less marginalized in their new environments. Whatever the case, a follow-up to Lynch's research would be appropriate. This could provide some additional insight as well as clarify the correctness of the trends and analysis originally posited by her research.

References:
1. Image source: http://www.galenfrysinger.com/hmong_costumes.htm
2. Lynch, A. (1995). Hmong American New Year's dress: The display of ethnicity. In Joanne Eicher (Ed.), Dress and ethnicity, Washington, DC: Berg, 255-267.

Musings on natural environment and religion

What's critical regionalism got to do with it?

Eggener's critique of critical regionalism focuses on the debate of what critical regionalism actually is and then examples of what it is not, specifically focusing on the work of Luis Barragán. In general, Eggener defines critical regionalism as "not a style, but a process" (2002, p.229) that requires practitioners to critically examine the region and see how it informs architecture and space. Historically, this process (which became prevalent in the 1980s) came about as a revolt against universal design, which by default made it less important about what it was and more focused on what it wasn't or didn't do (Eggener, 2002). In my opinion, the lack of a clear definition of critical regionalism results in ones inability to truly critique it; observing work under this microscope quickly becomes subjective and lacks the rigor of a non-partisan examination.

It is clear that Eggener has a strong opinion of Barragán's work, calling it elitist, self-reflective, and nostalgic – all things that critical regionalism is supposedly against. But the bigger question may be: did Barragán believe he was doing the work of a critical regionalist? And if so, can Eggener disagree? Examples listed by Eggener argue that Barragán would not have considered himself a critical regionalist, which further supports his opinions.

Despite all the discussion, this critique still manages to elude the topic of people, or the inhabitants of the designed space. I'm unsure as to how this fits into the definition of critical regionalism, but it seems unreasonable to forego considerations of the end user when determining wether or not the solution (which may or may not represent critical regionalist work) is successful. Unfortunately, this seems to be a common oversight by many architectural schools of thought – while built environments are beautiful in themselves, they essentially exist for the inhabitance of people with real needs and desires. Therefore, without considering and critiquing how built spaces affect these individuals, the critique process is incomplete.

Islamism for life.

As our identity pinwheel showed, religion was a part of many of our personal identities; yet, it was also a removable factor (by some) when we needed to hypothetically remove one factor of our selves. This seems to be quite the opposite for Muslims, many of whom are intimately bound to their religion,

"Their loyalty to Islam is quite amazing: Muslims almost never leave their faith in favor of another one." [View source]

[More to come soon . . . ]

References:
Eggener, K. (2002). Placing resistance: A critique of critical regionalism. Journal of Architectural Education, 55(4), 228-237.

Karam, A.M. (2000). Islamsism and the decivilising processes of globalisation. In Alberto Arce and Norman Long, eds. Anthropology, development and modernities - Exploring discourses, counter-tendencies, and violence, London: Routledge, 64-73.

Culture in the home

Continuing in the same vein as the previous readings, Pader yet again reinforces the dynamic nature of culture, most specifically in terms of the developmental processes of adapting a family home to be reflective of its cultural identity and supportive of cultural activities. Focusing on spatiality, it can be said that these ". . .spatial relations [in the home] are continually reproduced and reinterpreted in their use. If spatiality were to remain stagnant, which is hardly likely, social life itself would be inconceivable" (Pader, 1993, p. 115). While the spatial construction of the home and the flow between and through rooms is largely impacted by the values of the culture in which it is built, measures can be implemented to adjust and reconfigure elements for an improved living situation.

When undergoing her Mexican and Mexican-American home-based research, Pader takes specific measures to ensure the sensitivity of her actions. I especially appreciated her attempts to include the family as active participants in her research, even encouraging the children to "[help] by holding measuring tape" (1993, p. 116). As she researches, she makes a distinction between "familism" and individualism – the former focuses on the interdependent nature of a family unit while the latter focuses on the independence of each member. Based on observations and research, Pader exerts the opinion that the spatiality of Mexican homes reinforces the family and the interactions that occur within the collective group, while American trends are lending themselves to focus on the individual – with the increased tendency towards private rooms and limited interactions fostered in the home.

Understanding the social relations that occur within the home is critical for architects and designers to consider, especially when one members of one culture take up residency in a home built by another. A value shift can be clearly evident in the layout of the homes, but it is important to note that in most cases this is a shift and not a complete schism. Just as Mexican-Americans are not forced to fully assume American culture simply because they live here, neither are they entirely forced to assume the roles set forth in the construction of their homes. Instead, what Pader mentions but does not focus on, is the fact that these people tend to adapt to their living situation, constructing situations that are more in alignment with their cultural values and perhaps even assuming some new values from the Anglo-American culture.

In class, we were able to delve more deeply into this aspect of adaptation by exploring the results of the culturally sensitive housing research of Dr. Hadjiyanni. This research evidences that the inhabitants, regardless of cultural background, are active participants in the spatial construction of their homes. Families transform the significance and functions of individual rooms as well as adjust the aesthetic preferences of their homes into those more closely aligned with their cultural identities. Effective as this might be, it is important to note that it is an adaptive measure and not the ideal situation or solution. Recognizing that people are creative problem solvers, we should question: where and under what conditions are they best allowed to adapt? As designers, it is critical for us to always consider our audience; in terms of the housing design, it may be even more crucial to understand the historical background and social characteristics of the inhabitants' cultural group in order to best design the room flow and living situation, thereby fostering ideal relationships within the home.

References:
1. Pader, E. J. (1993). Spatiality and social change: Domestic space use in Mexico and the United States. American Ethnologist, 20(1), 114-137.