My Gravitation to Art in Singapore

I must've had some glimmers of talent in art as a boy.  In grade school on the near west side of Chicago, I remember my art teacher twice posting my classroom work on the wall.  In fact I remember him looking at my work, pausing a moment, then smiling.  

In junior high school, after our family moved to Arlington Heights, a northwestern suburb of Chicago, my language arts teacher had me head up a little project team to come up with creative displays for our bulletin board.  One display that I remember her liking particularly well was one I taglined "Science fiction books are out of this world."  

So it was in Singapore, as with many cities I visited, that I gravitated toward art displays and art museums.  

My Henri Cartier-Bresson Moment in Singapore

In my days as an aspiring photographer, I loved the unposed, street shots of Henri Cartier-Bresson.  I wanted to capture the moment as it was, from spontaneous expressions and gestures, to fleeting light or shadows of an afternoon.  

So it was with the smiles of these delightful children.  So it was with the well-lit, spacious foyer of this art center in Singapore.  

It was March 28th 2008, and I was on layover in Singapore, between Dubai and Manila.  As I had done before - in Copenhagen, Zurich and Paris - I arranged to leave the airport and explore the city.  

Touring the University of the Philippines

At the University of the Philippines, Diliman Campus, in Quezon City

Many of my Filipino friends graduated from the University of the Philippines, whom I met at events by the UP Alumni Association in Dubai.  So as I planned my trip in March 2008, I wanted to visit their Diliman campus.  Fateful things happened in the process.

It was my first trip home in 40 years.  My family and I left for Chicago in September 1968, and turned our backs on the Philippines.  

My friend Marie arranged for me to stay with her mother,who had lived in Quezon City, a large part of metro Manila, for years and years.  Quezon City happens to be where I was born.  

UP Diliman was virtually in her backyard as well, so it was easy to get to the campus.  Another friend Lucille arranged for two professors to meet me and give me a tour.  The temperatures were moderate, but the humidity was high enough to prompt me to ease my exertion and pace as we walked about.    

I was in that stretch of my life and travels, where I really didn't care to bring a camera and I really didn't even think to take photos with my mobile phone.  I wanted to experience people and places in the moment, as unhindered by devices as possible and thus as fully sensuous as possible - that is, with all of my senses open.

But my trip to Manila added a wrinkle to this.  You see, a few other friends advised me to dress down, so I wouldn't be accosted and maybe robbed.  For me, this meant using an old Nokia phone, instead of my sleek Samsung phone.  The mobile camera was on the latter, which I still brought with me but mostly kept in my pocket.  

The stained glass windows in one building on the Diliman campus clearly caught my eye.  I walked around slowly, and looked around, in that spacious hall, and marveled at the light and shadow and colors.  My new friends - the two professors - happily left me alone and patiently waited for me.

I was far removed from those days when photography was a serious art for me.  Still, I wanted to compose my shots of that stained glass and create something meaningful with them.

My Manila Homecoming

In front of the Ninoy Aquino (Manila) International Airport

It was March 28th 2008, when I rolled into Manila.  I was expecting the exit process out of the airport to take a long while, but in fact I breezed through.  I stepped into that dusk, for the first time in 40 years, and it was an odd feeling of foreign and familiar.  

You see, I was born in Manila, and my family and I left for Chicago in September 1968.  My parents took a trip back in 1999, but no one else in our family had traveled back.  

When I moved to Dubai in 2006, I learned from new Filipino friends that some of them took "annual leaves."  Dubai was about 80% expatriots, who often used their yearly vacation time to head back home.  If not annual, I know other friends made a point of returning to the Philippines every few years or so.  

I attended a gathering at the Philippine Embassy in Abu Dhabi, and the Ambassador asked a crowd of us who had been away the longest.  One lady promptly raised her hand, and said "20 years."  I was sitting way in the back, and smiled to myself and politely kept quiet.  

So the idea - and the plan - of returning were very much the mindset among overseas Filipinos.  How unusual, then, was the case of our family.  We had virtually turned our backs on our home country.  

Among my two sisters, and brother, I was the one who walked opposite the flow of the crowd on that March dusk.      

The Dream of Martin Luther King, Jr.

Martin Luther King, Jr., on a visit to the Stained Glass Museum, Navy Pier, Chicago

"I Have a Dream" stained glass art, by Seymour Adelman.

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

Reference:  I Have A Dream Speech (TEXT), transcribed by The Huffington Post.

On Wednesday, August 28th 2013, we celebrated the 50th anniversary of one of the most moving speeches in American history.  Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke from the steps of Lincoln Memorial, during a civil rights march on Washington, DC.  The setting was perfect, as it was Abraham Lincoln who fought for, and weathered the deadliest war in American history for the sake of, an emancipated United States, 100 years before King's speech.

Chicago "Be Safe, Be Alert" Campaign

A sign on the ground, at a downtown Chicago intersection

That's eight to nine people a day, on average, being hit by cars.  Obviously pedestrians, motorists and cyclists all have be more careful.

On one of my first trips to Bahrain in the Middle East, two friends and I visited the souq (markets).  These are mostly street merchants and tiny shops, crowded together in a small swath of Bahrain.  The streets were so narrow, that you could barely fit two cars side by side.  Still they accommodated two-way traffic.  One friend was a local (i.e., Bahrani), and he had absolutely no qualms walking on the street, right in front of cars.  They weren't driving very fast, mind you.  But to me they were going fast enough to make me feel tense just following my friend.  The other friend was Russian, and her comfort level seemed midway between his and mine.  

What was even worse was Cairo.  I was there only for a day to deliver a workshop, but en route to-and-from the airport and the venue, pedestrians crossed the streets left and right and seemingly everywhere.  Thankfully I was not among them, but as I sat in the taxi, I noticed myself pressing an imaginary brake with my right foot, from the backseat.  We must've been going at a clip of 35 - 40 MPH, so not really slow at all.  But pedestrians hardly looked left and right, in the way that we Americans are accustomed to doing, since we were children.  All I could do was pray that everyone stayed safe.  

It was as if people in Bahrain and Cairo, and other Middle Eastern cities I traveled to, were still living in, and thus had the mindset of, olden times.  They were largely aware of the dangers of present day city life, it seemed.  One time in Dubai, I saw a family walking on the median, during afternoon rush hour, amid traffic to-and-from Mall of the Emirates.  The parents walked, as their three young children raced ahead and played along with each other.  I shuddered.  My wife and I have a daughter, and either we held her hands together or I carried her myself, as we crossed busy streets.  

www.ChicagoPedSafety.org 

All I can say is, Thank goodness Chicago has a campaign like this.

The Coming Revolution of Steve Fodor

On a visit to the Museum of Science and Industry, in Chicago

Stephen Fodor, PhD

Steve Fodor has a PhD in chemistry, an MS in biochemistry, and a BS in biology.  I'm not sure exactly what he was referring to in the quote above, but it was one of a series on evolution at the Museum of Science and Industry.  I'm sure, too, that the revolution is biotechnology-related.  

In 1993, Dr. Fodor co-founded Affymetrix, where the chip technology has been used to synthesize many varieties of high-density oligonucleotide arrays containing hundreds of thousands of DNA probes. These DNA chips have broad commercial applications and are now used in many areas of basic and clinical research, including the detection of drug resistance mutations in infectious organisms, direct DNA sequence comparison of large segments of the human genome, the monitoring of multiple human genes for cancer associated mutations, the quantitative and parallel measurement of mRNA expression for thousands of human genes, and the physical and genetic mapping of the human genome.

Reference:  Stephen P.A. Fodor, Ph.D.

Fodor is a scientist, inventor and entrepreneur, who has an dizzying array of awards, so clearly he is an accomplished man.  This article serves as a bookmark on him and his oeuvre, as I work on Theory of Algorithms and The Core Algorithm.

The Evolutionary Algorithm of James Mark Baldwin

On a visit to the Museum of Science and Industry, in Chicago

James Mark Baldwin

In Theory of Algorithms, I define algorithms in conceptual, mathematical, and practical terms.  As such, I present them more as "smart organisms" rather than just a set of formulas or list of procedures.  One, I mean that they first grasp the nature of a problem, then work systematically to solve it.  Two, they learn from experience, revise themselves accordingly, then adapt how they solve particular problems.  No such technology or application exists.  So, in essence, what I refer to when I say "smart organism" is our mind.  We ourselves are the smart organisms, though we mostly do not act as such, in my estimation.      

James Mark Baldwin was an American psychologist and philosopher, who also contributed to theories on evolution.  I was quite intrigued by his quote above, as evolution does figure well in my theoretical framework.  I come to realize, then, that the process of heredity isn't just one of adaptation, but also one of intelligence.  In a way, heredity speaks to the essence of how we may learn about, and consequently adopt and apply, algorithms from one another.  That is, we must be smart about it vis-a-vis the purpose or task at hand for the algorithms, then modify them accordingly.  

The Sophisticated Living Cell of Max Delbrück

On a visit to the Museum of Science and Industry, in Chicago

Max Delbrück

In Theory of Algorithms, I conceptualize an algorithm as a smart, evolving organism.  Many technical or mathematical models we create are set:  They proceed to determine, evaluate and solve a problem in a pre-determined fashion.  But an algorithm learns from experience, and adapts itself accordingly.  So it becomes better at solving problems, and moreover better at solving more complex, unfamiliar problems.  

When I reflect on Max Delbrück's point (above), then, a living cell must be a phenomenally sophisticated organism, for having a billion years under its microscopic belt to learn, adapt and evolve.  My algorithms can only aspire to be that sophisticated.

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I am at work on an Algorithm for Disease, with which I hope to lend us better insight into the phenomenology, purpose and biology of humankind's scourge.  One of my working arguments is that disease represents a veritable and meaningful battle for life vis-a-vis human beings.  Moreover, while we may not admit, let alone accept this, disease has built up such an evolved level of sophistication as to rival Sun Tzu in "The Art of War."

Delbrück brought to bear his training in astrophysics and theoretical physics on biology, and accordingly research on viruses earned him and his colleagues the Nobel Prize in 1969.  

Tooling the Loop on the 'L'

It was last summer that I was on the Chicago elevated trains (L), after not having ridden them in ages.  Since 2002, much of my consulting was with international clients.  So I hardly ever went to our office in Chicago.  Even when I was in town, I worked at home up in the northern suburbs.  

Then, I lived in Dubai from 2006 - 2011, and was literally out of the (Chicago) Loop.

So I was a bit enthralled at riding the L again.  It was convenient enough to use my iPhone videocam, and edit clips onto this video.

The Quaint and Grand Driehaus Museum

I was walking northbound on State St., en route to coffee with a friend at the Starbucks near Chicago Ave. and Wabash St.  I had just read about the Driehaus Museum, so it was fortuitous that I'd run into it.  It's just west of Michigan Ave., and tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the Magnificent Mile.  Which, to my eyes, made the Museum both quaint and grand.  

Driehaus Museum

The Richard H. Driehaus Museum immerses visitors in one of the grandest residential buildings of 19th-century Chicago, the Gilded Age home of banker Samuel Mayo Nickerson. Chicago philanthropist Richard H. Driehaus founded the museum on April 1, 2003 with a vision to influence today’s built environment by preserving and promoting architecture and design of the past. To realize his vision, Mr. Driehaus commissioned a five-year restoration effort to preserve the structure and its magnificent interiors. Today the galleries feature surviving furnishings paired with elegant, historically-appropriate pieces from the Driehaus Collection of Fine and Decorative Arts, including important works by such celebrated designers as Herter Brothers and Louis Comfort Tiffany.

Today, the Museum is a premier example of historic preservation, offering visitors an opportunity to experience through its architecture, interiors, collection, and exhibitions how the prevailing design philosophies of the period were interpreted by artists, architects, and designers at the waning of the 19th century and the dawn of the 20th century.

Whose Moth, Whose Mothers?

A year ago this month, I was driving from one meeting in Chicago and heading to my next one in Evanston.  I was eastbound on Chicago Ave., and saw a snarl at the intersection with Michigan Ave.  So instead of making a left turn there, I kept heading east.  My plan was to circumvent the traffic snarl.

I knew the Museum of Contemporary Art was nearby, and that was exactly where I needed to turn left.  Immediately I saw this enormous installation in front - MOTHERS, by Martin Creed.  I parked the car right there and then, and slipped out to take a couple of photos.

My car stalled out, unfortunately, so I was going nowhere anytime soon.  After a few failed attempts to jump-start it, I called a towing company.  It was about two hours before I was on the way.  But in the meantime, I came up with a film concept on that installation.

"Forever Marilyn" was not so Forever

For a time it was Forever... 'The Seven Year Itch,' in downtown Chicago.

Alas, "Forever Marilyn" was only temporary, after all.

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"Forever Marilyn" found a mixed reception in Chicago, as some vandals let her know how they felt.

Reference:  Marilyn Monroe Statue Vandalized In Chicago Again (PHOTOS)

Vast Frontiers of Charles Kettering

On a visit to the National Portrait Gallery, in Washington DC

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An American inventor, engineer, businessman, and the holder of 186 patents.  He was a founder of Delco, and was head of research at General Motors from 1920 to 1947. Among his most widely used automotive inventions were the electrical starting motor and leaded gasoline.  In association with the DuPont Chemical Company, he was also responsible for the invention of Freon refrigerant for refrigeration and air conditioning systems, as well as for the development of Duco lacquers and enamels, the first practical colored paints for mass-produced automobiles. While working with the Dayton-Wright Company he developed the "Bug" aerial torpedo, considered the world's first aerial missile.  He led the advancement of practical, lightweight two-stroke diesel engines, revolutionizing the locomotive and heavy equipment industries.

Reference:  Charles F. Kettering.

In working on my Theory of Algorithms and The Core Algorithm, I saw this:  We as human beings cannot possibly enumerate all the points on a line, because there's an infinity.  But we can imagine the infinite, and arrive at a useful, simple algorithm for it.  In this case, it's the linear equation.  

So it is with this inspirational quote from Kettering.  In fact, I believe there is an infinity of frontiers, and it's an open mind that can conceive it and extract its algorithms.