Sep

Cannery Row Catalysts: John Steinbeck and Ed Ricketts

by Meredith Mullins on September 1, 2014

B&W photo of Ed Ricketts at the Pacific Biological Laboratories on Cannery Row, creative inspiration for John Steinbeck.

Ed Ricketts at his lab on Cannery Row
© Pat Hathaway Collection/www.caviews.com

Creative Inspiration among Friends

We should all be so lucky to have a friend, a creative inspiration, like Ed Ricketts.

John Steinbeck said that “knowing Ed Ricketts was instant.”

After the first moment, I knew him; and for the next eighteen years I knew him better than I knew anyone.

They were best friends. They fed each other ideas. They told each other truths. The jolted each other beyond the boundaries of the ordinary. They refreshed each other.

Character and Charisma

The unique elements of Ed’s character showed up often in Steinbeck’s work. He was Doc in Cannery Row and Sweet Thursday, Dr. Phillips in the short story “The Snake,” Friend Ed in Burning Bright, Doc Burton in In Dubious Battle, Jim Casy in The Grapes of Wrath, and Doctor Winter in The Moon is Down.

Ricketts wasn’t really a doctor. He had no degree. He was simply devoted and passionate about his work, as a marine biologist, philosopher, writer (Bach to Buddhism), and renaissance man.

And he was a significant catalyst for Steinbeck’s writing as well as a role model for living life to the fullest.

His mind had no horizons. He was interested in everything.

Ricketts was not a stellar businessman, but he was a workaholic who followed the tides and established a system for studying and recording marine life that is still a model today. He wasn’t just interested in where things lived but how they lived.

If you asked him to dinner at seven, he might get there at nine. On the other hand, if a good low collecting tide was at 6:53, he would be in the tide pool at 6:52.

He kept the most careful collecting notes on record, but sometimes he would not open a business letter for weeks.

Once, a cheesecake arrived in the mail. Three months later, Ed opened it.

The Pacific Biological Laboratories on Cannery Row, creative inspiration for Steinbeck and Ricketts (Photo Meredith Mullins)

The Pacific Biological Laboratories still standing on Cannery Row
© Meredith Mullins

The lab that Ricketts lived and worked in—Pacific Biological Laboratories—is still on Cannery Row in Monterey, California. When you visit, you can hear the waves crashing just outside the back door, testimony to how perfect the lab was as a setting for Ricketts’ study.

Cannery on Cannery Row, a place for creative inspiration for John Steinbeck and Ed Ricketts (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

Now tourist attractions, the fish canneries were the center of life and livelihood on Cannery Row.
© Meredith Mullins

Life on Cannery Row

The street, too, was full of life. The canneries and characters were captured by Steinbeck in the novel Cannery Row.

Cannery Row is . . . a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream.

After the novel Cannery Row was published in 1945, the lab (and Ed) became even more of a magnet for visitors and evenings of music, deep conversation, food and drink.

And, even though the book made Ricketts more famous (and infamous) than he ever wanted to be, he forgave Steinbeck. He found the book “exceedingly funny, with an undertone of sadness and loneliness.”

Gone Too Soon

Ed Ricketts died tragically (at age 50), his car hit by a train when it stalled on the tracks on his way to get food for the usual gathering of friends back at the lab.

Memorial to Ed Ricketts at the train tracks on Cannery Row, the place where creative inspiration bloomed for John Steinbeck and Ed Ricketts (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

A memorial to Ed Ricketts at the site of the fateful train crash
© Meredith Mullins

In life and in memoriam, it was clear that his friends loved him. Steinbeck’s writing showed his exceptional character. The creative inspiration he provided to so many people was undeniable.

Doc would listen to any kind of nonsense and change it for you to a kind of wisdom. Everyone who knew him was indebted to him. And everyone who thought of him thought next, ‘I really must do something nice for Doc.’

“Oh, I See” Moments

Every description of Ricketts, for me, became an “Oh, I see” moment—lessons from life and literature. He was inspiring. A true bohemian with a generous and honest soul.

Of all the tributes, one stood out, words offered by Steinbeck in Ricketts’ eulogy—traits that were at the core of their mutual respect.

The free exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world.

Steinbeck added that one of Ed’s most admirable qualities was his ability “to receive anything from anyone, to receive gracefully and thankfully, and to make the gift seem very fine.”

Thank you Ed and John. Your gifts were very fine.

Close up of Ed Ricketts memorial on Cannery Row, creative inspiration for John Steinbeck's novels. (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

Renaissance man and bohemian spirit—Ed Ricketts
© Meredith Mullins

The Steinbeck quotes are from Cannery Row and About Ed Ricketts/Sea of Cortez, with acknowledgment to Viking Press and Penguin Books.

Find more information about Monterey, CA here.

Comment on this post, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Meredith Mullins 1 Comment

Literary World/USA

May

The Star-Spangled Banner Rides a Creative Wave

by Sheron Long on May 19, 2014

If video does not display, watch it here.

Minor Key, Major Creative Thinking

Just before the “Play ball” call goes out in baseball stadiums across America, fans pause to honor an American tradition. Hand over heart, many sing along with “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

It’s a warm day, a happy time, and the music is in feel-good major key.

Then along comes Chase Holfelder who, honoring the tradition of creative thinking that built America, decides to experiment. He sings the song in minor key and delivers a performance described by many as “hauntingly beautiful.”

First Burst of Creativity

In September 1814 during the War of 1812, Francis Scott Key, a lawyer and amateur poet, began a poem on the back of a letter and thereby created what would become our national anthem. Originally titled “Defense of Fort M’Henry,” Key was inspired by seeing the US flag still flying after a night of heavy bombardment at Baltimore’s Fort McHenry.

The Star Spangled Banner flag that inspired the lyrics to the US national anthem in 1814 and whose music and lyrics have been impacted by the creative thinking of subsequent generations. (Image from the Smithsonian Institution Archives)

This Star Spangled Banner flag inspired the lyrics to the US national anthem during the Battle of Baltimore in the War of 1812. A linen backing added in 1914 indicates its original size that had been reduced by pieces cut off for souvenirs. Image from the Smithsonian Institution Archives

By November, the work had achieved popular acclaim—17 newspapers had printed the poem, and the Carr Music Company had published both words and music.

No Stopping the Flow of Creativity

By the early 1900s, several versions of the song existed. A panel of musicians, including John Philip Sousa, standardized a major-key rendition that was adopted by Congress in 1931 as the US national anthem.

“The Star-Spangled Banner” was institutionalized at public sports events during WWII. Creative adaptations began with Jose Feliciano’s blues-style version during the 1968 World Series, causing both acclaim and controversy.

Since then, versions rock, show soul, speak country, follow a Latin beat, and more. So much so that critics have taken to choosing their top ten renditions.

Airmen presenting a 100-yard by 50-yard flag at the Las Vegas Bowl, 2006, while the audience sings "The Star-Spangled Banner," an anthem personalized over time by a century's worth of creative thinking. (Image © Stocktrek Images)

Airmen present a 100-yard by 50-yard flag during the national anthem at the Las Vegas Bowl, 2006.
© Stocktrek Images

When Creative Works Go Viral

With his minor key version, Chase Holfelder, a web producer and user experience designer, has now added his mark on the national anthem. Uploaded on April 22, 2014, it has already received over 1,200,000 views—a remarkable speed even in our age of social media.

While some protest what they call “tampering” with a patriotic icon, others are looking for a national vote to make the minor key version official. They hear it as a better fit for today’s America.

Holfelder’s audience see many creative possibilities:

“This needs to be on the new Godzilla soundtrack. I want to see this haunting tune set to slow motion depictions of soldiers and citizens fighting side-by-side for their lives as the sky burns and Cthulhu takes his throne.”

—Andrew Chason

“This should be the song Anthony and Joe Russo decide to use for the hopeful reunion of Steve and Bucky in Captain America 3.”

—Rachel Fortune

“I feel like this would be sung at Captain America’s funeral.”

—Alice Ampora

Meanwhile, another creative type has already remixed Holfelder’s version with the theme from Winter Soldier playing in the background. And Holfelder has gone on to release “Amazing Grace” in minor key.

Creativity builds on creativity.

Oh, I see. We may not know what’s next, but when it comes to creative thinking and “The Star-Spangled Banner,” the one thing we do know is that there will be a “next.”

Sheron Long Comments

The World's Music/USA

Apr

Cinemagraphs Reveal Beauty In and Out of Focus

by Bruce Goldstone on April 21, 2014

A cinemagraph shows Central Park in focus through a pair of glasses, revealing the beauty of corrected and uncorrected vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

Is clarity always best?
© Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg

Natural Vision vs. Corrected Vision

Autumn leaves flutter in and out of focus in a striking image from Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg’s series of optical animations.

The effect is enchanting. But my reaction to this poetic series is perhaps atypical.

Am I the only one who gazes at this work and sees a powerful argument for the beauty of both corrected and natural vision?

The Secret Life of Photos

Beck and Burg have captivated the web since they created a new style of animated photograph to capture the excitement of Fashion Week in New York city. They call their moving creations cinemagraphs.

A cinemagraph of Anna Wintour at a fashion show, illustrating the beauty of correct vision and natural vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

The technique stitches together photos to create a simple but persuasive illusion of movement.

Each cinemagraph is a single compelling burst. Like the contrasting images in a fine haiku, stillness and motion battle for the viewer’s attention.

A cinemagraph of a taxi reflected in a cafe window, illustrating the beauty of corrected and natural vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

You can see many more examples of the impressive and flexible technique at the artists’ site, Ann Street Studio.

Sight and Insight

A pair of spiffy Giorgio Armani eyeglass frames inspired the team to create a series of cinemagraphs in and around New York City.

But what really speaks to me in these shots isn’t how perfectly they capture the hum and throb of city life.

Instead, I’m reminded of the emphatic reaction I had to my first pair of glasses, one of my earliest “Oh, I see” moments. Though, in this case, it was more of an “Oh, I won’t see” moment.

A cinemagraph of Times Square's flashing lights, illustrating the beauty of corrected and natural vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

I was about eleven when I got my first glasses. I hated them.

The aviator-style frames were fashionable enough for my fifth-grade aesthetic. But the glasses made me question the whole idea of corrective optometry. Sure, the world looked different. But is different always better?

I didn’t think so. I liked seeing the world my way, blurry though it was.

Each morning, I dutifully put my glasses on so my parents wouldn’t think they’d wasted their money.

A cinemagraph showing some reading The New York Times, illustrating the beauty of corrected and natural vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

Then at school, I’d stash them in my desk and the world would return to normal. My normal.

I was used to seeing the world in a lovely Impressionist haze, free of hard edges and crisp details. Doctors and teachers insisted that their world was a better place, but I wasn’t convinced.

I liked my world the way it was. As far as I was concerned, nothing about it needed correcting.

A cinemagraph of the New York Skyline, illustrating the beauty of corrected and natural vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

The magical melding of the lights on the Manhattan Bridge in this cinemagraph reminds me of how energetically I defended my right to see the world my way.

In Favor of Focus

My battle against glasses lasted the better part of a year.

Of course, eventually I gave in. There was no exact moment of defeat. It was more of a gradual acquiescence.

In the end, the benefits of seeing where you’re going became, well, apparent. And being able to read the chalkboard turned out to be helpful, too.

And by the time I got to driving, I was a firm convert to the 20/20 world.

A cinemagraph of Grand Central Station commuters, showing the beauty of corrected and natural vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

But once in a while, I still enjoy taking a vacation from focus. Without corrective lenses, the world returns to a softer, more comforting place.

Or at least that’s how it seems until I bump headfirst into something.

I’m grateful to Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg for this series of cinemagraphs, which depicts the eloquent balance between natural and corrected vision.

If you want to create your own cinemagraphs, check out this helpful tutorial.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Bruce Goldstone Comments

The World's Photography/USA

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