In 2008, much sensation ensued at the news of Thomas Beatie, the world’s first pregnant male.  A transgender and legally male, Thomas Beatie became the first male to conceive, having kept his female reproductive organs in the hopes of one day bearing children.  When his wife was found to be infertile, Beatie decided to have the child (and two more) himself.                         

Thomas Beatie, however, is not the only pregnant male; Lee Mingwei is, too.  According to the website malepregnancy.com, created in 2001, Lee Mingwei is not a transgender but male by birth who has the ability to carry children in his abdomen area.  In fact, however, this entire website, with such detailed information and an entire range of evidence to support the claim of a pregnant Lee, including a documentary featuring the pregnant male is an art project conceived by artists Lee Mingwei and Virgil Wong.

It can be assumed that the basis of this project is to challenge the notion of “What does it mean to be female?  What does it mean to be male?”, as Lee states several times throughout the excerpt of the featured documentary.  Lee is countering the societal claims of a woman as the childbearer, challenging the idea that it is the woman’s duty to give birth and that men can do it, too.  It leads one to ponder the issues presented by societal norms of gender roles, obligations, and expectations and the pressures of responding and reacting to these confined categories.

One could applaud Lee and Wong for undertaking such a controversial project that forces the viewer to reflect on these issues, yet, in watching the documentary and going through the site, I couldn’t help but think that this project, as much as it wants to challenge the viewer’s notion of norms, actually reinforces it, as well.  For instance, consider the project in its simplest terms: a pregnant male.  Though this sensation does shake the foundations of long accepted biological and sociological understanding, it also presents another contentious layer– that of the dominant, all capable male.  In taking a strictly female ability and transferring it to the powers of a man, it undermines the woman’s uniqueness and own social importance, especially if in social terms, the ability to bear children is the defining difference between a male and a female.  It lends the idea that women are no longer necessary for life and that men can have the total dominance and power not only in leading life, but creating it, as well.

In this way, Lee strengthens our ideas of what is socially acceptable by putting such an emphasis on the sensationalism of such a phenomena: a pregnant male.  In constantly highlighting the uniqueness of the situation, it reminds us yet again that of course women are the childbearers.  This point is especially discernible when, during a checkup with the doctor, he jokes, “Do women feel like this, too?  Or is it because I’m a man?”, which yet again focuses the attention on the natural capabilities of the woman as childbearer– i.e. because woman is made by nature to carry a child, she is also made by nature to endure the hardships that go with it; thus, should a man be placed in that same position, because he lacks the natural capabilities to adjust to a pregnant lifestyle, he would have a hard time; as such, it is only natural that women are those who bear children.

As I am exposed to more things that attempt to be controversial or present things out of the norm, I keep realizing that the effect has two sides: one is the instant, reactionary effect whereupon the viewer at the moment of the encounter is shocked, awed, inspired, repulsed, etc and does come to question (although perhaps to a small degree) what we consider to be the norm; the second is the same reactionary effect of shock, awe, inspiration, repulsion, etc that does the opposite– it reinforces and strengthens our existing notions of the normal and acceptable.  The latter reaction usually follows the former.

Why is this?  Why is it that a work of art that is “controversial” actually reinforces our current ideals than revolutionizes or shakes the foundations of our perception of the “right?”  Maybe it’s because so much emphasis is put on the uniqueness of the situation, so much sensationalism exudes from the controversial topic itself that the artwork becomes instead an embodiment of the “surreal, different, unacceptable”.  Because of the deeply infused contentious nature of the subject, the art does not place itself in the world of the “normal” as being “normal” but places itself in the world of the “normal” as being “abnormal” and therefore “socially unacceptable”.  But then this hypothesis poses the counter question of whether presenting something out of the norm as normal undermines its abnormality and thus, its importance in generating discussion and change.  Personally, I don’t think that the latter would pose too many problems.  It can go either way: either convince the viewer of the normality of the abnormal situation and change their views on what “normal” is or incur a reaction similar to that of the first hypothesis, where we perceive as being portrayed as normal yet we know it is not and thus continue to support our existing notions of the norms.

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Gabby Park is a triple concentrator in Communication Studies, French, and History of Art who also thinks too much while watching movies and consuming other forms of media and art.

I had made my first traverse through the Matthaei Botanical gardens. I picked up some chamomile on the way and rubbed it in my palms until it was just dust, tiny specks that fell away on the ground as I walked, but as they left, they generously left their scent for memory’s sake. A kaleidoscope was situated in an open area, pointed at a handsome pot of purple velvet plants, whose name now escapes me. The apparatus had been set up to spin (to accommodate to our visual necessity for constant stimuli change – if our eyes don’t move, the nerves get exhausted – bored of sending their chemical signals and it disappears from our mental projections.) Not one moment had been preceded by the last – every second a fresh burst of novelty, of colors and geometry sliding in for a brief second to visit, and then conceding to the next image waiting in the wings.

I ended up leaving to go sit by a bank of a small river, wrote as I listened to the trickling of water around fallen branches that were still connected to their trunks connected to the ground. They were leaning into the water, fallen almost too dramatically, too tragically into the swirling cold. But the ebb of water desires to follow its own path (traveling south, that is, behind me relative to how I was situated); they collided into the fallen natural debris and then, realizing they had been struck, rushed around corners and rocks. Their rippling was initially almost undetectable, but as more time passed, the louder, the more excited the sound grew – I could almost see it quivering. The sound grew as organic and natural as a spear of grass piercing out of the earth.

Spring is here, and I urge you all to take a walk through some brambles, breathe in some clean air, and feel the reanimation of a million lives from slumber.

Sue majors in Neuroscience & English and tends to lurk in bookstores.

Marrying ideas of statistical analysis and museum studies, I would like to propose an experiment.  I hope to work in museum education in my future, so to get the ball rolling I will start hypothesizing now.

The present museum’s status quo of label design is an easily visible label tattooed next to the artifact.  The label usually contains roughly 300 words and articulates a particular message about the piece.  It will tell you when the artifact was made, the artist, its significance, and an interpretation of the work.  This is a pretty standard label.

What I would like to question is what if that label was removed all together?  What would happen to the exhibit?  What would be lost and/or gained?

Coming from an educational standpoint I am interested in testing the status quo in order to find new possibilities and perspectives.  On average, people spend 30 seconds or less reading a wall label.  This is not a lot of time to retain information.  I see the educational benefits for wall labels and I am not saying we should omit them from museums, but I would like to test the effects of a wall less exhibit.  What could be learned from them?

Not having conducted this test, I will make up a set of hypothesized results.  I think people will gain a sense of independence and agency while walking through the exhibit.  They will interpret, imagine, and wonder instead of being instructed.  The experience will be like entering a fantasy world.  Furthermore, individual interpretations could and very well would lead to varying perspectives, offering different vantage points and new categories for meaning.  The artifacts would enter a new realm of thought.  The possibilities are endless because the amount of traffic is such.

The modern museum has taken on the role of education and entertainment.  An exhibit surrounded by freedom of thought and interpretation would facilitate wonder and self-expressionism.  Isn’t that what art’s all about?

Have a good weekend!

Sara majors in Art History and enjoys long walks.

For Easter I decided to drive to Chicago and celebrate with my family.  Road trip!  And what road trip doesn’t have a soundtrack?  Actually, most of my solo ones.

As much as I adore music, I find it is too easy to tune out while I’m driving long distances.  Plus flipping through radio stations can be a pain and popping in a CD is annoying because I don’t was to hear the same thing in the same order multiple times.  So instead I listen to audiobooks.

I mean, it’s hard to ignore the person chattering at you in the front seat so if you want something to keep you awake and prevent you from getting velocitized, words are the way to do it.  It also means you don’t look like a fool to the people passing you because you’re singing along.

Typically I like to read my books, not listen to them, but when I’m driving I find that the time goes by quicker when I’m engaged in a story.  And it’s typically hands free too.

Don’t know what to read/listen too?  Here are a couple of free podcast books you can download, via iTunes of course.  If you’re on the look out for others,  search podiobook.

*Somebody Somewhere by Tom Lichtenberg A psycho stalker kidnaps his would-be girlfriend, gets chased by the cops, runs out of gas right outside your house, where you and your spouse are enjoying a quite evening and now the pair of you are hostages at gunpoint and surround by police.

*The Rookie by Scott Sigler (the King of podcast novels) This is set amongst a lethal pro football league 700 years in the future. Aliens play positions based on physiology, creating receivers that jump 25 feet into the air, linemen that bench-press 1,200 pounds, and linebackers that literally want to eat you. Organized crime runs every franchise, games are fixed, and rival players are assassinated.

*A Man and his Unicorn by Anthony Matthews Vern was an ordinary college instructor and looking forward to spring break. But on the last day of classes and dreaming about a gorgeous gal, he woke up in a white washed world with nothing there! … That included his clothes (oops).  After meeting a few individuals who wanted to slice, dice, or otherwise harm him, Vern got into a quest. Then he met a beautiful Red unicorn stallion with magical powers. The unicorn took immediately to Vern. He was thrilled – then he remembered why unicorns took to certain people … Vern didn’t have too much success in dating (he swore he was a good kisser). Hopefully, he’ll have more success in staying alive.

Life is ever changing.  For a college student this can range from studying for an exam, taking an exam later, drinking wine with friends, and going to an arts event all in the same day.  We are supreme, multitasking beings.  Extremely impressive, if I do say so myself.

Tonight I was accompanied by one of my finest, most admired friends to the one-year celebration of the opening of the new wing in UMMA.

The night was filled with the two food groups of sweets and fruit, through decadent cupcakes and bananas.  While my friend and I shared cupcakes, we spoke with other museum connoisseurs about art and life.  We got away from our technological devices for a few hours and enjoyed the company of each other.

Art has that effect on people.  It removes them from their daily, sometimes ordinary lives and takes them into a new world filled with culture, conversation and yummy treats.

The basis for museums is education, but also entertainment.  Your eyes are opened to not only art, but also society.  Museums are vital to our sociological continuum.  They are the thread that pulls history to the present day and the future.

Their importance is humble.  It fosters relationships between community members, while asking little in return.  They are an ever changing valuable resource that should be appreciated.

Tonight I will leave you with this message.  Immerse yourself in the museum.

Close your eyes and clear your mind of any rambling thoughts. Now, imagine yourself walking around the campus of your dream college- what do you see?

Hopefully, for many of you images of State Street and the Diag occupy your mind. However, I think most of us can agree that the ideal campus contains classically constructed buildings scattered among an abundance of greenery. And maybe, for the fun of it, we could throw in a lake and a couple of squirrels.

Recently though, certain schools have decided to infuse modern works of art into their collegiate landscapes. For example, sculptural pieces made out of wire and metal have begun to populate Cornell University’s picturesque campus. Cluttered around the school’s stone bridges, these new artistic additions are known as the “Suicide Fences.”

Okay, so they aren’t actually called “Suicide Fences,” but in the wake of recent alleged student suicides, Cornell University has erected fences (and increased security) along bridges that overlook the beautiful gorges that surround campus. Similar actions have been taken by schools like New York University who instead of building fences put screen floors on every level of dormitory stairwells.

As I read about this new development in the Cornell Daily Sun, I was extremely disheartened. Instead of spending time and money on these temporary fences, shouldn’t the university (and other schools) be trying to figure out why these students are committing suicide? Or maybe they should put in the time and effort to find new ways of reaching out to desperate students. No, instead schools like Cornell and NYU have taken to physical construction as an answer to mental and emotional strife. What they don’t realize however is that no amount of metal or security guards can stop someone from committing the act of suicide. If someone wants to jump, believe me, they will jump.