Last week I was in Trinidad, just off the coast of South America. I was speaking at the BDC’s Innovation to Income conference and took a few extra days for fun.
It’s an interesting place – since most tourists head over to the quiet, beautiful neighboring island of Tobago, Trinidad itself isn’t an easy place to be a tourist. The capital city of Port of Spain is tough, crime is a problem, and there are few true tourist attractions, nor info centers or tourist desks that I could find. But that made it real travel – I had a most interesting time walking around the core downtown area (Indi Square). It was the first time in awhile I went somewhere impossible not to stand out as a foreigner (80+% of the population is of African or Indian decent, and I’m of neither), which was a thrill.
Here’s what I learned:
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One of the great coincidences of my life is that my girlfriend in college (now my wife) was a painter. I didn’t know it at the time, but by tagging along to events at the art department at CMU, and at times helping her with her work, I was unintentionally exposed to what the world of art is and what artists actually do. These are experiences I doubt I’d have had. My family and friends had no interest in art. And more to my work these days, few people in the computer science or business world get this kind of exposure, and I think it’s a shame (Paul Graham is a notable exception). Anyone who talks about creativity without talking at all about art is a poser – these are the folks with one of the longest creative traditions we have.
But more on the history of art and creativity some other time. I’m posting today to talk about the guy I now recognize as my favorite: Olafur Eliasson. Five years ago I stumbled into the Tate museum and was blown away by this, this thing, in the ten story Turbine hall. Frank and I spent more than an hour playing and dancing under this enormous simulated sun. We watched kids dance and play with the huge mirror hanging across the entire football field sized ceiling. It was, without hyperbole, sureal. I didn’t know what it was, or what it was for, and that, like much of the art I enjoy, made it accessible to me and everyone there.
Then last month, at the MOMA, I stumbled again into Eliasson’s work. Here the works are at at smaller scale, but like the Tate exhibit the works lend themselves to interaction. Rooms are filled with lights and mirrors that dared me to step inside the work (one eye on the security guard to make sure it was ok, which it was). Walls covered with distorted metal windows, or shifting patterns of light (reminiscent of Turrel’s skyspace), that make it impossible not to look. Or touch. Or stick around and wait to see what’s going on. It’s experience as art.
I’ll be in NYC this summer and hope to catch Eliasson’s latest exhibit, Waterfalls. The scale of this project looks to be more like Christo’s wrappings, interesting for their awesome scale, and interactive only in that they get people to stop and look. But I’ll go and hope to stumble again into another memorable experience.
One highlight of webstock 08 was the fantastic design of their handouts, badges and bags. Most conferences, including design conferences, spend little effort on crafting the things they give attendees. The bags, swag, and badges are typically afterthoughts, rarely made with love, and infrequently reflecting any of the values espoused at the conference itself. Webstock kicked ass on all counts: an example for other conferences to follow. Here are some notes:



If you get a chance to speak at or attend Webstock, don’t miss it. You’ll feel the love if you go.
On my first trip to London in 1996, on a whim from a blurb in some guidebook, I checked out Speaker’s corner @ Hyde Park. I just could not believe the blurb: a place where anyone could stand up on a box, preach or rant to their hearts desire, and throngs of people would come to listen, all for free.
Inconceivable!
In NYC, we had a name for public speakers – crazies. We’d ignore them, or as a gang of kids, terrorize them. As adults, who has the time to stop and listen? The notion was absurd, and in my then fully charged American arrogance I figured if such a form of free speech were possible, surely I’d have seen it before in America.
So I went to see for myself – It was true and it blew me away.
Many speakers were political or religious, but many weren’t. Some were pros who seemed to be regulars at the corner, but many were just working people interested in debate. The experience redefined what a public speaker meant. It’s one thing to speak at a conference or in an office where there are rules of conduct, but entirely another to speak where no one has any obligation to even listen to you.
I can’t say what goes on at the corner is a good way to debate issues, but it sure is an experience and any thinking person can’t observe what goes on there without some kind of opinion.
I’ve been thinking more about speaker’s corner lately for two reasons. First I now make a living as a public speaker, but also because of the rise of informal presenting, from un-conferences, Pecha-Kucha, and 99 second or 60 second university talks.
Surprisingly youtube comes up short on capturing the experience. But here are a few to watch if you’re curious (which you should be):
The question I’ll ask you is the same one I ask myself:
We’ve all had tough projects, but this one might just top them all, and it hits on three of my favorite topics: design, management, and film making. Here’s the rundown:
I’ve both seen the film, and have visited the Hermitage (prompting a 2nd viewing of the film). Understanding Russian history helps make the film more than a stunt, as the story can be hard to follow (It’s an abstract and art-y film, both figuratively and literally as it’s shot in an art museum). But even without it, the film is a visual delight and a project management wonder. If you’re a designer or a manager you’ll be in awe even if you only make it through half the film. Moreso, the DVD includes a making-of featurette that entirely blew my mind: it will put whatever is stressing you out right now into deep relief.
Trailer, netflix listing, and reviews.
After speaking at MX-East Tuesday, in the quaint retreat at Normandy farms, I hopped in a cab for the 30 mile ride to my hotel in downtown Philly, the Windsor Suites by 9pm. I got lucky: it’s in a sweet spot for a tourist, near the train station, a few blocks from museums, full kitchens and on a quiet street for $169 a night.
Looking to maximize my remaining 29 hours, i dropped my bags and headed south from Logan square down to towards Rittenhouse square, seeking a fun place for a late dinner and stumbled onto Alfa, for some sliders (small burgers), crab mac and cheese, and a spinach salad. After a few beers in the high-style digs with a thin yet friendly Tues 10pm crowd, I walked the streets for fun and then got some rest.
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Wed morning: My train to Villanova U. for a speaking gig left at 2pm, so I had to cram any museums or further food adventures into the morning. Woke up at 10am, further closing the window of fun. I scrambled east over to the Reading Terminal Market, and felt as if I was back home in Queens. The east coast food so impossible to find in the Northwest was here in droves and after my whitefish salad sandwich, spinach knish (5 times better than any knish in Seattle) and Dr. Browns Black cherry soda, I lingered in the halls, soaking up as much of the smells as i could.
We the people…watch movies. With about 2 hours before my train, I had a tough choice: which bit of history to explore? Everyone told me to check the liberty bell, but I know it’s patriotic trash – a poor relic, made famous by accident more than by right (The myths of Innovation explains more about this). Instead, in these difficult times to be an American, I went to the National Constitution Center, the largest museum in the U.S. about the Constitution, seeking much needed USA inspiration.
The unusual museum centers on a special movie theater: a mix of live narration and projected multimedia was surprisingly captivating, but also expectedly patriotic, with no mention of current constitutional issues in the USA. After the 15 minute flick, you exit on the 2nd level and enter a round hall with hi-tech and interactive exhibits about the constitution and the bill of rights.
The great comedy of my visit? They wouldn’t let me take pictures. That’s right – in the main exhibit hall about the freedoms of the constitution, no photographs are allowed. As an expression of resistance to tyrany, here are three photographs from inside:
Next, in part 2, talking at Villanova, plus my first east coast Chinese food experience in years.