Let your squares be squares

13 July 2010 by pcNielsen Leave a Comment

Julie Rozman, an architect-slash-ceramics blogger I’ve followed for a few years now, posted some images of her work for sale. She’s moving from Chicago to Urbana to study ceramics, and one of her sets of work reminded me of a post I’ve been thinking about for a while.

A long while, actually. Probably since I graduated from college almost ten years ago now.

Julie's sculpture does not forget it's roots.

In my architecture classes, in my graphic design classes and some of the time in my ceramics classes I watched aspiring artists and designers, myself included, forget the basics of design. We’d go after an assignment with passion, with dreams of being featured on the front cover of Architectural Digest, and forget that there are certain building blocks to every visual and spatial solution. They were overthinking the problem.

I suppose this is a symptom of the genius mentality, the drive for stardom usurping the desire to make useful and beautiful contributions to our surrounding environments.

Filed under Aesthetics, Affluenza, Architecture, Art, Art education, Artist as genius, Basis for designing well, Beauty, Ceramics, Design, Modern culture

On how consumerism changes religion

31 March 2010 by pcNielsen Leave a Comment

David Taylor just had to go and post a review of Vincent Miller’s 2008 book, Consuming Religion. As if I wasn’t depressed enough already at how my reading schedule appears utterly doomed for this year, I now have to add another book to the wish list. A few quotes from Taylor’s review (yes, they’re long, but worth reading, and obviously quite a bit shorter than the actual review which is also worth reading):

    Consumerism may fight against religion. But it is commodification that disarms it. As he puts it, “When consumption becomes the dominant cultural practice, belief is systematically misdirected from traditional religious practices into consumption . . . Traditional practices of self-transformation are subordinated to consumer choice” (225) . . .

    The “use” of Mother Theresa illustrates these dynamics. Her indelible image—the cracked outline of her face, a preternatural smile, tenderly touching an untouchable—gets printed on t-shirts. These t-shirts get mass-produced and worn by young Americans “inspired” by her life. They recite her words. They appeal to her work to denounce, say, two-car-garage lifestyles and the war in Iraq. And they do this while drinking Kenyan coffee and listening to “World Music” on their iPods . . . Religious materials, in short, are “thrown into a cultural marketplace where they can be embraced enthusiastically but not put into practice” (28) . . .

    In Miller’s account, the story begins with Karl Marx. Marx showed how laborers were alienated from the fruits of their labors. This, in turn, led to an increased “de-skilling” of workers, who then more easily “employed” by engineers to perform tasks for which they received “wages.” In time a shift ensued in the mode of human existence from being to having. The suburban single-family home epitomized this shift. Here we had a family supported almost entirely by wages. The family, under this rubric, shifted from managing production to managing consumption. Such a family, for example, now collects “devices” in order to make their lives easier. But for Miller the result leads to increasing isolation from neighbors, who are no longer felt to be needed. Wages and benefits replace “extended family and community relationships as the source of security” (48) . . .

    What advice does Miller offer the reader looking to resist assimilation to consumerism? The first task, he argues, is to name commodification as a problem. After this one can choose a number of creative activities. One can find out where their food comes — Chiquita bananas or breast of chicken. One can take up a craft and gain an appreciation for the labor costs that are involved. The liturgy, at least of the more “high” churches, can serve to reinforce the interconnections between doctrine and symbols and thus aid in the stabilization of their meanings.

After a few criticisms of Miller’s use of sociology over hard data and some hasty comments on the arts, Taylor concludes his review:

    In the end, however, I was very encouraged by Miller’s book. He offered an acute picture of the dynamics of a consumerist culture. The problem is not simply that our culture produces narcissistic individuals who increasingly find themselves isolated from neighbor and nature. The problem is the way that the dynamics of commodification make it easy for us to “consume” religion.

Read Taylor’s review in full via this link.

Filed under Affluenza, Christianity, Consumerism, Entitlement, Mass production, Modern culture

Manly minimalism begins with goals

12 October 2009 by pcNielsen 7 Comments

“The things you own end up owning you.” — Tyler Durden, Fight Club

In high school I became a collector of stuff, mostly decorative objects found at garage sales or hauled out of trash heaps. This practice was in line with my architectural (slash interior design) aspirations, but after a year in college I realized the vanity of so many objects.

So early in my college career I began to cultivate a minimalist aesthetic that has largely stuck with me since graduation. It’s difficult to pull off, though, in a materialistic culture supersaturated with advertisements and run by Washington bureaucrats whose idea of good times seems to revolve solely around the health of a consumerist economy.

Materialism, stuff, a minimalist aesthetic remains on my mind after our move of three months ago. We went from 1,500 square feet of living space to around 500, not including a shared kitchen, bathroom and office. Every so often I find myself looking around again, wondering what we might be able to do without. A multitude of dishes and decorative items remain in boxes. How much of this stuff is worth schlepping around? How much of the unpacked stuff is worth keeping around?

It seems to me this is a more difficult question to answer for craftsmen and women. We are wired to create objects, thus objects potentially have more meaning for us than, say, accountants or fishermen. Furthermore, we often own a slew of tools related to our craft. In some ways these objects are in a different class than what we put in our house, except for the fact that many of us don’t have spaces outside of our home for a shop or studio.

This morning I read a good article on a blog called The Art of Manliness titled Go Small or Go Home: In praise of minimalism. The author quotes Leo Babauta’s answer to the question “What is the minimalist lifestyle?”

    It’s one that is stripped of the unnecessary, to
    make room for that which gives you joy.

    It’s a removal of clutter in all its forms,
    leaving you with peace and freedom and
    lightness.

    A minimalist eschews the mindset of more, of
    acquiring and consuming and shopping, of
    bigger is better, of the burden of stuff.

    A minimalist instead embraces the beauty of
    less, the aesthetic of spareness, a life of
    contentedness in what we need and what
    makes us truly happy.

    A minimalist realizes that acquiring stuff
    doesn’t make us happy. That earning more
    and having more are meaningless. That
    filling your life with busy-ness and
    freneticism isn’t desirable, but something to
    be avoided.

    A minimalist values quality, not quantity, in
    all forms.

The first and last points in Babauta’s list resonate with me. These are things I’ve realized, that overkill kills the potential for joy and quality is more important than quantity. Overkill I’ve yet to get control of in life, but the value of quality is already present.

So what is unnecessary in my life right now that needs to be done away with? What is truly important? I’ve already culled a number of blogs from my feed reader in an attempt to refine my daily news and reading time. In place of that I’ve been trying to go through part of the Daily Office every morning.

Before doing away with too many things, however, I probably need to focus on setting some attainable short and long-term goals. I’ve never been good at this. I’m much more a live in the moment type of guy. I have come to realize the value of setting a certain direction for your life though. Our culture presents us with never-ending distractions that must be tamed. It also steers us into a certain kind of workaholism; productivity becomes a cult we’re expected to aspire to.

Setting [realistic] goals will help me determine what is unnecessary.

The author of the Art of Manliness post concludes by giving us

    Leo Babauta’s Principles of Living the Minimalist Life

    1. Omit needless things. Notice this doesn’t say to omit everything. Just needless things.

    2. Identify the essential. What’s most important to you? What makes you happy? What will have the highest impact on your life, your career?

    3. Make everything count. Whatever you do or keep in your life, make it worthy of keeping. Make it really count.

    4. Fill your life with joy. Don’t just empty your life. Put something wonderful in it.

    5. Edit, edit. Minimalism isn’t an end point. It’s a constant process of editing, revisiting, editing some more.

    I would add the following:

    6. Hold on loosely. Even to your prized possessions. At the end of the day its relationships, not possessions, that make life worth living.

Filed under Affluenza, Disposable culture, Mass production, Modern culture, Sustainable living

Shoeboxes, spec homes creating ignorant Americans???

11 June 2009 by pcNielsen 6 Comments

The wife and I talked last night about real estate, newer homes versus older homes, realtors and so forth. And it got me wondering:

    Has the glut of poorly designed spec homes thrown up in the U.S. from, roughly, 1960 on created a cultural deficit in that Americans look for the wrong things when choosing a place to live?

Since we’ve started looking for houses, actually since our friends began buying [mortgages for] houses five-plus years back, it’s been interesting to observe their choices and listen to their reasoning for said choices. There are some who, like my wife and I, crave the character (details), craftsmanship and environs found in many older homes in established parts of a city, but many people seem to be exclusively interested in newer homes.

From what I’ve been able to deduce, this usually stems from a desire for a maintenance free home (which, by the way, does not exist). Buyers want newer appliances and utilities and roofs. What they often fail to realize is that you’ll end up in the same boat as if you’d bought an older place that’s been cared for after just a few years. Appliances and utilities aren’t built as well as they used to be and, unless you plan on living in a house for only five years (give or take) you will probably end up needing to repair and/or replace the heating element in an oven, install a new water heater or buy a new air conditioner. I finally replaced the shiny stainless steel fan/light/heater in our bathroom last year which was likely original to our 1955 bungalow; the new one will probably die in less than ten years and is hideous in comparison to its predecessor.

Some men don’t want anything to do with painting the outside of a house as the sun and snow take their tole on soffits and siding . . . which reminds me that I need to post this picture,

vinyl siding

a stunning example of why vinyl siding is not really better than wood. This was on the garage of one of the houses we looked at in Nebraska. It was shaded, as I recall, and on the East side of a house — not exposed to hot afternoon sun. I’ve also seen the stuff pop, warp, fade and crack and it’s just beyond me why it gets used so much. Painting every ten or fifteen years (assuming you use good paint, not the Walmart brand) is a lot easier than replacing siding every twenty-five years in my opinion. Further, slapping vinyl over existing finishes seems likely to encourage mold.

Does cultural wealth factor into this equation, where newer homes in the suburbs are representative of a certain affluence that some older neighborhoods don’t allow an owner to brag about? Perhaps young mothers are under the impression that the ‘burbs are safer for the kiddos. Maybe the entitlement some of us feel after growing up surrounded by such an affluent culture leads us to believe we deserve shiny new houses.

Regardless, I have to wonder if the suburban architecture perpetuated over the past five plus decades has resulted in a more ignorant culture. Is it possible that we don’t know what good design looks like anymore? We don’t realize what wasted space or good traffic flow is? And that we’re (somewhat intentionally) losing the ability to care for our own property under the guise of the “maintenance free?”

Older homes, by contrast, often excel in design and craftsmanship over new ones. Lumber used to build them was straighter and drier, and sometimes above and beyond what was required for the job. The 830 square foot house I was drawn to on our recent house-hunting trip employed 2 x 10s for floor joists. No wonder the place was so marvelously square after 75 years! Less space is wasted in homes of that age, generally, and built-in storage was more abundant. Sure, closets might be smaller, but are walk-in closets really all that great? Luxurious, yes, but they also encourage clutter in our consumerist culture.

Seasoned homes are normally, subjective as this may seem, more pleasing to the eye. It doesn’t take an inordinate number of complexities to make a house or community pleasing to the eye. Apparently a book titled A Pattern Language talks about how a house can be successful yet appear to be a fairly simple design (from the outside). I’ve been told many times by different people I need to read this book. It is on my Amazon wish list!

None of this is meant to imply that we should cease new home construction. Obviously, as populations increase and older homes that were not cared for (or weren’t built so well, or that highways or big-box stores are paving over etc etc) are torn down new dwellings will need to replace them. Why, though, should new homes perpetuate a bland, cheap, and unenduring suburban aesthetic? They shouldn’t, and they don’t have to. A friend of mine here in Siloam Springs hopes to found a residential construction company that will bring back the details and craftsmanship of the early 20th century. He started with his own home which includes such details as a breakfast nook and drawers built into the risers of the staircase.

Will my friend find enough of us who appreciate the details in a craftsman home to float his business? Americans seem to be dangerously content with lousy dwelling design. We’ve become afflicted as a culture with the Texas Syndrome, where as long as something is big or impressive it’s credible (Yes, I know that link isn’t precisely backing up my assertion, but it’s related and a good article.). We’d rather have a poorly designed 2,500 square foot house than a thought-through 1,200 square foot bungalow that functions just as well as it’s bigger brother. Shoeboxes with holes cut out for doors and windows litter new subdivisions and we eat them up. McMansions (and their smaller cousins in more modest subdivisions) flaunt ludicrously steep and wasteful rooflines, which wouldn’t be all that wasteful if the attic was actually used as living space. But it’s generally not.

My concern is that suburban design of the past fifty years has infiltrated our psyche, and that our aesthetic expectations have subsequently been wounded without our being aware of it. Some of this sentiment, thankfully, might be changing as Downtown, U.S.A., is revivified and younger generations move back into the heart of cities. But from where I sit, we have a long ways to go in many parts of the country, and a lot of people in the younger generations still aspire to a questionable suburban aesthetic.

Thoughts?

(As always, there are exceptions to the generalizations I’ve made in this post. Keep that in mind when commenting.)

Filed under Aesthetics, Affluenza, Architecture, Entitlement, Living incarnationally, Modern culture

On not being poor vs. doing what you love

31 May 2009 by pcNielsen 12 Comments

    “Screw cash. Do you know what it’s like to wake up knowing that you’re doing what you love?”

    - People on Twitter quoting Gary Vaynerchuck at BEA

Over the course of the past ten years or so I’ve heard a few different people declare that they aren’t going to “be poor!” This is usually in the context of college majors, career choice or current job. I haven’t probed when it’s come up, but I’m guessing the sentiment is often the result of personal past impoverished experiences. If I recall correctly from a book of his I read five years ago, Dave Ramsey’s wife has a bit of this complex.

My wife and I are in a pickle, as I explained a week or so ago, and might be on the poor road very soon (if we’re not already). Just after moving to Arkansas in 2003 we were in a similar financial situation. Needless to say it’s not a fun place to be. We’ve given ourselves to the ministry we moved down here to serve with and making money, beyond what we need to live on, has not registered on the radar.

The question all of this is raising in my mind is as follows: Is American affluence driving people away from their gifts? In other words, does the cultural pressure in our consumerist culture keep people from pursuing careers they might enjoy and excel at, instead wooing them to pursue more secure and higher paying marginal careers?

It’s on my mind in a personal way as we think about what will come of the rest of this year, and the years to come. The hope is to move to a place with lower housing costs and more part-time work to supplement our continued service with the ministry. In theory, our living expenses would be cut to the point we wouldn’t have to maintain full-time employment, freeing up more time for both of us to work on our crafts.

It seems to us that our plans are pretty modest. We’re eager to pursue the things in life we’re passionate about — missions, sculpture, writing, the fiber arts. Despite these seemingly modest aspirations, though, I’m wondering if we’re actually going to be able to execute this plan. Learning the house isn’t worth as much as we figured and noticing yesterday that we haven’t paid off as much as I’d thought in the past four years were chinks in our armor.

I’ve never developed or cultivated an aversion to poverty, assuming we still have a roof over our head and food on the table. Regardless, our present circumstances have been testing our faith. I really like the so-called plan we’ve sketched out (on a napkin, so to speak) and hope it works out. If we can’t make it work, I have positively no idea what we’ll we be doing or where we’ll end up.

And while I won’t refer to that as “scary,” it’s certainly the kind of situation that makes most of us humans very uncomfortable.

Filed under Affluenza, Business of art, Entitlement, Modern culture, Northwest Arkansas, Personal reflection, Siloam Springs

Do affluence and advertising stunt creativity?

20 April 2009 by pcNielsen Leave a Comment

I noticed an article posted to a friend’s Facebook status this afternoon that sounded worthy of reading. It’s titled Letting the Joneses Win and addresses both American affluence and, tangentially, creativity. Meredith Whitmore wrote the article to talk about her reentry into the United States after five years abroad in East Africa and China.

    Living life outside the reach of American advertising, for example, was much more serene. It was also freeing since I had space to ponder things beyond how my abs look, the kind of car I drive or the clothes I wear. In fact, I’d been living in areas where many people wear the same clothing almost every day—without their friends (or Stacy London) staging an intervention.

    So reentering our consumer-driven, image-mindful country felt like jumping naked into a glacial lake. (Well, at least my shock and audible gasping were probably pretty similar.) I came home to American friends who were ashamed to carry the same attractive, perfectly useful purse for more than a few months — forget about wearing a sweater twice in one week.

    As terrible as it may sound, during my first days back I wanted to smack several people and yell, “Get over yourselves!” Instead, you’ll be relieved to know I bit my tongue and tried to smile a lot . . .

    But in parts of the Third World with few resources and even less income, I have watched boys play with Coca-Cola bottles for an entire hour. And they didn’t feel at all deprived. Resourceful to the core, they could have fun and be creative with lots of things we wouldn’t even consider in the West.

Filed under Advertising, Affluenza, Entitlement, Imagination, Modern culture

Two bathrooms and a warehouse

5 April 2009 by pcNielsen 2 Comments

Yesterday we drove home from western Oklahoma, visiting the inlaws and looking at some disappointing real estate. Round about Tulsa two things occurred to me.

No less than two bathrooms
As my wife and I look at houses and buildings to buy, the subject of bathrooms retains a cursory spot in my brain. Further, I know a few young couples looking for their first house in this buyer’s market. As I chatted with the masculine half of one such couple a few weeks ago, he shared that his wife wants two bathrooms. I’m wondering if the other couples possess similar criteria; I’m assuming so. Our former realtor friend also constantly harps on how we should add another bathroom to our bungalow.

Really, though, what’s wrong with just one bathroom? It’s certainly less to clean, and functions just as well as two — especially for a couple with no kids. I have to wonder if the desire on the part of people searching for homes, and the suggestions on the part of HGTV experts, aren’t largely indicative of our culture of affluence.

That is, we’re spoiled. Rotten.

I don’t deny the luxury of multiple toilets in a house. Were I to design a home for myself I’d likely — although not necessarily — incorporate one full bathroom along with a powder room for guests. And if I really wanted to be decadent, I’d flesh out a master suite with its very own commode and shower. Of course at this point I’ll need a maid, or, if you’ll allow me to be so politically incorrect, a stereotypical 1950s housewife. Apparently I’m a sucker like all the rest of you.

All of this, however, is unnecessary, especially for couples without children, or even couples with two children. It is what we want though, and in America we’re used to getting what we want when we want it, even if the same luxuries might have taken our parents decades to work up to. Gimmee gimee.

The new old warehouse districts
As we cruised Highway 169 down towards a Chipotle yesterday I took note of an exit littered with warehouses. Enormous tin sheds sprawled westward, with sundry truck trailers backed up to them waiting to receive and regurgitate every kind of consumer good.

Then I thought of so-called warehouse districts, parts of cities formerly used as fish markets or garment factories, now retooled into retail and living space. While it’s possible to retrofit almost any space, that kind of useful transformation doesn’t seem as likely or desirable in modern industrial locations where the structures have little or no endearing character.

What will become of these acres of bland metal warehouses? Will they simply be torn down and recycled after sitting vacant for so many years — assuming they will become vacant as the economy shifts, as it is wont to. Or will future generations ignore the lack of aesthetic (and structural) appeal and rush in? Will artists fill up the spaces when they are cheap, turning them into homes and studios like the much more stately brick packing plants of old?

warehouses in amsterdam

Image from Wikipedia.

Filed under Affluenza, Architecture, Disposable culture, Entitlement, Interior design, Modern culture, Restoration

The visual credit crisis

19 March 2009 by pcNielsen Leave a Comment

Earlier this week I posted the following in my Facebook status:

    Paul Nielsen :: Realizing I have an eye (and degree) for design, but just don’t fit into the graphic designer’s culture.

Basically, I’ve realized this year, again, that I just don’t share the interests and passions of most serious graphic designers. I don’t look forward to new software; I don’t rant passionately against spec work like a lot of professional graphics people seem to. I have more of a marketing mind now (for good or ill) and realize that the job of a logo isn’t so much to grab attention — and professional accolades — as it is to create a brand. And, like two friends who commented on the Facebook status, I’d rather be getting my hands dirty than sitting in front of a computer all day (although half a day is OK).

That said, however, I’m still acutely aware of the surrounding visual environment, and appreciate good design when I see it. FlowingData posted a significant montage of good graphics related to the current economic crisis earlier this week, 27 visualizations to be exact. The one I appreciated most was the only video in the group.

The video, created by graduate student Jonathan Jarvis, above is the first of two parts posted on YouTube. See the full-length video on Vimeo here (YouTube limits videos to less than 10 minutes, and I can’t embed the Vimeo video because I don’t yet self-host The Aesthetic Elevator.). I also quite liked the following poster, if it can be called that, by Jess Bachman.

golden-parachutes

Click on the image to see the entire visualization. Bachman’s own website is called WallStats.

Filed under Affluenza, Design, Modern culture, Sustainable living

The Recession vs. The Consumer

10 March 2009 by pcNielsen 1 Comment

Alissa Wilkinson — who spearheads The Curator and I met in passing at IAM Encounter 09 — quoted a quote from a New York Times story titled Conspicuous Consumption, a Casualty of Recession that I found worthy of quoting again .

    “I think this economy was a good way to cure my compulsive shopping habit,” Maxine Frankel, 59, a high school teacher from Skokie, Ill., said as she longingly stroked a diaphanous black shawl at a shop in the nearby Chicago suburb of Glenview. “It’s kind of funny, but I feel much more satisfied with the things money can’t buy, like the well-being of my family. I’m just not seeking happiness from material things anymore.”

The Times article basically goes back and forth on whether the changes people are making in their personal lives during this economic hardship will last. Some say yes; some say no. Economists point out that The Great Depression did create a very cautious generation of savers. My great grandmother was one of these people.

This youthful recession probably has some years to go before causing such significant change to our die-hard consumerist mindsets. President Obama is suggesting things will be back on track in a year or so, which won’t do it in my opinion — although his estimate seems a tad optimistic.

george

On a related note, what does this recession do for more expensive fads such as shopping organic — which shouldn’t be a fad, really, but still is at this point — that were just gaining steam? If people need or want to save money, buying generic peanut butter is a whole lot cheaper than organic, freshly ground from Whole Foods. I personally don’t want to see the organic movement lose ground; it replaces an unsustainable, mass-producing, preservative laden food monster than should have been banished decades ago. But it might.

I’ve read The Curator since it’s inception. It contains some good observations on American culture. My only complaint is that you can’t make comments on the posts of what is essentially a blog.

Image from Post Secret.

Filed under Affluenza, Modern culture, Sustainable living

How a bad economy influences art & design

19 February 2009 by pcNielsen 3 Comments

In this case, design refers specifically to fashion, though I’m thinking in broader terms. NPR’s Ari Shapiro interviewed Sally Singer, Vogue magazine’s fashion news and features director in a Morning Edition spot this morning.

I have a love-hate relationship with fashion — both practical fashion and runway fashion. Runway fashion is easy for the masses to deride. A lot of it appears to lack almost every practical consideration, and us rabble in the middle classes can’t remotely afford it. It rightly births satire such as Ugly Betty. However, artistically and aesthetically fashion design is worthwhile.

“In tough times, why not express yourself by how you dress — whether you’re doing it from what’s in your closet, what’s in a vintage store [or] what you made yourself?” Singer asks. What a person chooses to wear — or live in, drive in, read or listen to if we expand the discussion — communicates, whether we like it or not. Our wardrobe can say that we value our appearance, or that we don’t. It often identifies us with a certain subculture. For better or worse, it sets us apart as lower, middle or upper class.

Depression era chic

One of the more practical — and beautiful — creations
from the fashion industry reflecting depression era chic.

And, perhaps, fashion serves as an indicator of an economy. Singer talks a little about “depression era chic” in the interview. A New York Post article elaborates on this idea:

    The duds say it all — and it’s depressing.

    Taking a cue from the grim economy, this fall’s fashions at Banana Republic, Gap and H&M are featuring a distinctly Depression-era trend of cloche hats, pencil skirts, conductor caps and baggy, vintage-style dresses.

I wouldn’t have expected this kind of a trend from the fashion industry (had I been thinking about it). In other artistic segments, possibly: Painting has historically reflected social hardships; film and photography possess similar track records as I recall. While any observant twenty year old is old enough to realize that styles recur, this years’ shift in clothing design is more intentional than what generally appears to be a more simple ebb and flow to this common observer.

That said, props to the fashion industry for taking a culturally relevant direction. I’m not sure, off-hand, if it’s the right direction; one might worry that mimicking the styles of the depression might result in even more dire attitudes. The flip-side — to create elaborate clothing that defies a cultural climate — could instead instill hope.

Then again, it might also create some kind of complex in us, causing us to believe things are better than they are whereby we spend more than we actually have to spend. This is what Singer seems to refer to as morality. Towards the end of the interview, she states that “Not shopping is not a moral act right now.”

There’s actually no indication of whether she expects us to actually spend more than we have, but in the context of American consumerism the inference is believable. And such reckless spending is more-or-less what landed us in this so-called economic mess in the first place.

Photo from the Retro Radar.

Filed under Aesthetics, Affluenza, Beauty, Business of art, Design, Fiber, Handmade, Modern culture

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