For the Love of Crete

I could write an article about the rugged beauty of the Crete coast, or the verdant interior dotted with olive groves and vineyards. I could talk about the challenges of an unfamiliar language with an indecipherable alphabet or about Greek hospitality.

I could essay on any of the magical moments during our recent one-week holiday in Gournes, but nothing affected me as much as the state of the feline condition.

Crete is the unfriendly home of thousands of stray cats and dogs which skulk and beg and live out of dumpsters. The few animal welfare organizations – most run by immigrants – are undermanned and underfunded. The island’s economy is reliant on tourism during the season, and this has prompted a few actions on the part of locals, in particular hotel owners, but the general disposition towards these animals is to treat them as vermin. Sickening reports of mass poisonings linger on the internet, and we found few natives willing to view the animals as creatures of value. We only found one kitten which seemed to be a pet – he was friendly and confident, healthy, and had a clean coat. Following my tradition of assigning my own name to cats (in my home of Penzance, I know many cats but few owners, and must have some way of referring to them!), this one became Niblic because of his habit of nibbling the ends of your fingers affectionately whilst being petted.

A Cowboy's Tale

Niblic may have been the only cat we found being truly cared for, but there was other evidence that cats might be treated as pets on a part-time basis. I’ve heard of this phenomenon before regarding Rome – that the Italians keep cats as pets, but when they leave for their summer holidays, often taking 3 months at a time, they simply lock their cats out of the house and leave them to fend for themselves. This prompted a group of Britons to start a rescue for cats near the ruins.

Cowboy was obviously accustomed to humans. He not only accepted attention from the visitors at our hotel, he craved it. He took any opportunity to cuddle the way a man lost in the desert takes to bottled water. The first time we saw Cowboy, he was sitting on a child’s slide. My husband invited him over, and knelt to pet the eager tomcat. Immediately Cowboy insinuated himself on top of my husband’s knees, forcing him to “make a lap.” His love of being held – and tendency to sleep contentedly for hours at a time – led us to carry him around with us whenever we were at the hotel. We’d go to the pool, and he’d lay with us. We’d sit in the shade, and he’d go with us. He even watched TV in the room with us one evening. He was never judgemental when we’d go out sightseeing during the day; he was always easy to locate near the hotel kitchen when we returned.

Cat-loving guests who had been there the previous week told us that he had had a collar on. There was still a part in the dense fur around his neck, but we never found the collar which may have told us of his previous residence. Although the owners and staff at the hotel were predominately neutral regarding the six or so cats that haunted the place, this is not a lifestyle any cat with a safe and reliable home would choose, so we must assume that his previous owner suffered a change in circumstances. And as we were in Crete at the absolute end of the season, when all the hotels were closing up and holiday-makers were vacating, we can make some unpleasant assumptions regarding the nature of the change.

Swipes’ Story

We have high hopes for Cowboy’s potential for rehoming. We’ve told one of the animal rescue centers about the cats at our hotel, and should Cowboy be taken in he would have no trouble charming his way into a new family. But we have deeper concerns regarding Swipes.

Swipes is a tiny tomcat, perhaps a year old. The cats on Crete tend to be smaller than the moggies in the UK, long and thin even when they are properly fed, and are almost all "white-and" – white and orange, white and black, white and tabby. So it’s difficult to say how old Swipes is for sure. He is not even half the size of our 18-month old boy but seems to have spent an eternity on the streets.

He has evolved very few social strategies, born of survival. There’s the beg: he will watch you while you are eating, come near, and mew. There’s the snatch: no matter how or what is offered, he swipes quickly, often catching the fingers of the tourist offering the treat with his needle-sharp claws. Then there’s the run, hopefully with a bit of food. Most travelers will respond to those eyes and that plaintive mew once – but few will persist after having been scratched.

My husband and I did what we could to improve the nutrition of at least these two cats. There were others at the hotel, and we’d feed them if they were around, but nearly every night we were able to locate both Cowboy and Swipes and feed them canned cat food from the corner shop. The first time we saw Swipes, we were eating a dessert with ice cream. I put a bit of cream on my spoon and set it on the floor. Swipes snuck up on it, swiped at the spoon, and ran off. The first time we introduced real cat food, he overcame his fear of cutlery and ate contentedly off the fork.

After the first meal, he brushed tentatively against my husband’s leg as a thank you. This emboldened me to try to pet him while he was distracted by eating. In the middle of a meal, he didn’t even bother to shrink away from a touch, and you could feel his purrs vibrating his whole body. Even in the afterglow of a good meal, you could pet him for a while, until he realized that he shouldn’t be enjoying it and would give you a good swipe. It hurt, but he meant it in play. He was cautious but not shy – he was getting to know us and he’d bounce around on us chasing the hand he wanted to “punish.”

Once he knew who we were, he became significantly more approachable. He also began to hang around the humans more incautiously, but his antisocial behaviour won him few fans. He quickly learned to be more discriminating when choosing human companionship. I certainly feel he needs to maintain wariness around strangers, but I also wanted to give him a wider arsenal of social skills, so one evening we worked on accepting chips (french fries) without maiming. The progress was minimal, but shows that he has enormous potential for learning. If someone were patient enough to offer him a home, in time he would settle into a playful and loving companion. But in the meantime, heavy gloves might not be a bad idea. He also craved acceptance from the older cats, hanging around and brushing against them, mostly receiving rebuffs. But Cowboy tolerated him at a distance.

The Challenge

I cannot in good conscience sit idly by while these cats, some of whom I have come to love, suffer. I am open to suggestions, but as financing another trip to Crete is not currently on the table, I am resolved to raise money for the charities that support animal rescue in Crete.

With the help of generous souls in Cornwall, I have launched a campaign I call Paw2Paw. It’s about cats throughout the world helping the less privileged. For the first endeavour, cats in Cornwall have posed for a calendar, all proceeds to help their brothers and sisters in Crete. You can find all the info at www.paw2paw.org.uk.

What is art?

In addressing this complex and difficult question, I'm first confronted with its smaller cousin, craft. We are born with an inherent understanding of what is "art" and what is merely "craft," but do we differentiate correctly? In examining "art," I find I must do so mostly in a dialog with "craft."

Speaking in broad strokes (pun intended), we think of art as something only someone with innate talent can produce. Craft can be learned by anyone. Craftsmanship refers to the perfection of a technique - like a craftsman who can turn a smooth, geometrically ideal stair rail. No matter how skilled the carpenter becomes, he can only ever be an artisan.

I've started with a search of definitions of art, and most distill to "the product of human creativity and imagination." But what is craft if not creation? And does craft not require at least a minimum of inspiration? Much craft does involve the duplication of a process, but does moving the sticker to the lower left hand corner of the hand-made card rather than placing it in the upper right make it art? Therefore I assert that most definitions of art are actually definitions of craft.

So I am left with no definition of art, but a mind full of the possible properties of art:

• art reflects the world as it is
  
• art presents the world as it may be
  
• art manipulates the senses to create an emotion
  
• art glorifies God and His creations
  
• art glorifies man and his creations

Some feel that art imitates life, and invariably this is presented as a defense of a piece of art portraying something we'd rather not see. The use of art to shock humanity out of complacency, to force us to face the dark corners of our world, is justified if it moves us to action, to redress wrongs, to shine light into those corners, to evolve. But static art lacks the momentum required to carry us forward. It drops us in the middle of the quicksand and stands back as we struggle. It can never be more than a singular protest.

Art which captivates us is typically of a different character. It may portray the lushness of nature, the bond within a family, the bittersweet bloom of youth, the wisdom of age, or an attempt to connect with a force bigger than ourselves. It is uplifting. It is hopeful.

Good art is a prayer. Great art is the answer.

Modern art

For those of you who enjoy modern art, I will say up front, we will disagree. I have visited modern art galleries, and I have found little that will rise above the level of "craft." And most is remote even from that.

I will inflame fans by lumping most modern art under the heading of "experimental." Experimenting with colors, experimenting with patterns which could only be described as "plaid," sculpture which defines curves and angles but which is of nothing in particular. Of these works I can only say, they are not art. They are practice. They are the steps along the way to creating art, not art itself. They are the extras on the DVD which show snippets of storyboard and sketches of costumes. The film is the art. I am not against experimenting. In fact, I am typically a fan of anything new, shiny, and innovative. But please do not frame your scribbles and hang them on the wall.

Modern maestros Andy Warhol and Roy Lichtenstein cause me some consternation, however. Both are obviously craftsmen, creating technically perfect paintings. And in the elevation of the mundane to the potential status of art, they cause us to reevaluate the significance of things around us. I can only conclude that a can of tomato soup is not art, but Warhol's ironic display is. It falls under the category of glorification of man and his creations. It is neither good art nor great art as previously defined, but it is art.

Shock art

Those who defend shock art (Mapplethorpe, for instance) usually claim its detractors "don't understand it." Art is understood viscerally, not intellectually. Those who are offended by it simply don't like the way it makes them feel. This is a perfectly legitimate response to a medium which is intended to manipulate the viewer's emotions. It does not make one less to dislike it, or more to appreciate it. If shock art is intended to discomfit in an attempt to shift society towards a more functional model, then it must be classed as good art. Unfortunately, most seems to be designed for no other reason than to create a response. This is as unenlightened as creating art for money. Part of the difficulty in this category is that most of it seems to be photographic. Photography is largely craft, as anyone can learn to operate a camera, anyone can learn the manipulation of light and focus. Thus the genre must largely be judged on subject matter, not on execution.

It's the message, stupid

Another problem in evaluating modern, shock, or non-traditional art is that the message is often intended to be intellectual, not emotional. If art has to be explained, can it be art? If art is the manipulation of the senses to arouse emotions, then much in this genre fails. The message intended may be profound. But the message is not received by viewing the piece itself - it can only be gleaned by reading the manual. This is not art, this is unintentional misdirection.

Commercial art

Based on my understanding of the artist, art is something that grows inside him or her as a concept or an image, and it must be birthed lest the artistic psyche suffer. It often feels as though it has come from outside the artist, like divine inspiration. Therefore art is unconcerned with profit. Artists are not, and in a Capitalist society there is no flaw in wanting to pay the bills. I am not suggesting that artists not sell their work. Commercial art refers not to art which is sold, but merely art which is created for money. This includes advertising. Commercial art is, by and large, not art, but craft. It can be the duplication of a piece of art, which repeats merely the process of producing the art, not the inspiration behind it. It can be the manipulation of a viewer to produce the impulse to buy something else. This is a very precise craft which may be mistaken for art, but it is not art.

Historic art

Some crafts pieces gain significance because of the intricate portrayal of an otherwise forgotten time or place. They may allow us to understand how others lived and as such are of valuable service. This may not make them art, but grants them a position in certain museums.

Kinetic art

Art which moves has a distinct advantage over static art: it can present us with a path - a path to follow, or the consequences of a path to be avoided. Literature, films and television, music, even comic books are some of the most influential artworks of our time. I will apply the same test of the quality of art to these: a good work of art presents the problem; a great work shows the solution. Most kinetic art is commercial craft, but nonetheless this is where most of the great art of the 21st century will be born.

What makes West Wing, the show that inadvertently inspired this blog, art? The show was undoubtedly created for profit, at least from the view of the network. But the content remains artistic. It presents the problem: people are disillusioned about their leaders and disdain politics and, to a greater or lesser extent, remain uninformed regarding the complexities of national and international affairs. The solution: put a man in office who, while fallible and very human, acts with integrity and honor. Show others respond to his actions with respect and openness. Each episode represents a possible path from chaos to order.

And what of music? Isn't all music commercial? Well, popular music is commercial. But not all music is commercialized. Many popular songs achieve the status of static art, portraying with sensitivity the emotions of a moment. Some songpainters even create a flow, a timeline in less than five minutes. But where are our Mozarts? Our Beethovens? They're composing music for films and television. And the best of it is very much art.

And so I present a functional, but incomplete, definition of art: the manipulation of the senses by any media to create an emotional response which advocates action from chaos to order. My definition of chaos is a lack of self-determination through, for instance, illness or poverty or hopelessness. Order represents the highest goals of humanity.

Namaste.

Introduction

Hello and welcome to my blog.

I've resisted this move for a very long time. It seems everyone I know has a blog. In fact, many friends refuse to write individual emails anymore, preferring to direct all and sundry to their blog. And this I resent. But the purpose of this blog isn't to let others know what I've been up to (although some sort of online calendar would be a useful aide memoire at times).

I've finally made this move because from time to time I get these essays playing themselves out in my head, and there they tend to stay, unchallenged. Or worse, they come out in poorly constructed sentences and fail to make a coherent stance.

This isn't going to be a daily blog. It may not even be a monthly blog. But I will give it a chance. And I'll have at least one reader (Hi, Mom!).

If you agree with anything I say, please speak up. And if you disagree, I hope my point of view serves to sharpen your own. If your experience differs from mine, please share it. Each of us has a singular reality based on the perception of a sliver of what is really going on. The only way we can learn and grow is to partake of one another's slivers. It isn't that one of us is right and one of us is wrong - it is never that simple. It is that reality is far larger than you or I can possibly know.

And that, perhaps, is an essay for another day. But not today. For I have chosen as my inaugural blog the controversial question of "what is art?" A question which perhaps has been brought to the fore by the memory of a West Wing rerun where the actress who used to play Eve on Northern Exposure was objecting to the art which had been funded by the NEA. This scene, of course, was inspired by the Mapplethorpe debate. And while I have no idea of the current status of the NEA, I do know that the question of what constitutes art is no nearer a solution. I don't pretend to have the definitive answer either. What I hope to provide is one defensible position.

Please read on .......