winter 2004 - Florida State University : Research in Review
Transcription
winter 2004 - Florida State University : Research in Review
WINTER 2004 49 IN•SIGHT VOL. XII XIV NO. I I M AG E RY F R O M T H E W O R L D O F R E S E A R C H & C R E AT I V I T Y WINTER 2004 2002 T H AT I S F L O R I DA S TAT E U N I V E R S I T Y Cover Photo: Photo illustration: Ray Stanyard Robert Celander Florida State University Research in Review is published three times annually by the Office of the Vice President for Research, Florida State University, with editorial offices in 109 SuiteWestcott 005 Westcott Building, Building, Florida Florida StateState University, University, Tallahassee, Tallahassee, FL 32306FL 32306-1330. 1330. Any written Any written portionportion of this publication of this publicamay tionreprinted be may be reprinted without permission without permission as long asascredit long for as credit for Florida State Florida University State University Research in Research Review in is given. Review is given. Opinions expressed Opinions herein expressed do not herein necessarily do not reflect necessarily those of thereflect Florida those State ofUniversity the Floridafaculty State Univeror NERVES IN 3-D: Scientists and computer specialists at FSU recently collaborated to produce this remarkable, sity faculty or administration. administration. Send correspondence to Frank Stephenson, commueditor, to the address nications director above, andor editor, e-mailtotothe address above, three-dimensional reconstruction of branches of a living nerve cell (neuron) in the brain of a mouse. Neurobiologist [email protected]. or e-mail to [email protected]. Phone: (850)Phone: 644-8634. (850) 644-8634. Visit Us Online: www.research.fsu.edu/RinR/RinR.html Visit Us Online: Charles Ouimet of the College of Medicine and his gradu- www.research.fsu.edu/RinR/RinR.html THE FLORIDA STATE UNIVERSITY ate student Karen Dietz study how neurons grow and connect to form the intricate neural patterns that characterize normal brain function. The image was generated by Dietz, Wilfredo Blanco and Kevin Beason within the Visualization Laboratory of the School of Computational Science and In- ADMINISTRATION THE FLORIDA STATE UNIVERSITY Talbot H. D’Alemberte, President ADMINISTRATION Lawrence G. Abele, Provost, VP Academic Affairs T.K. Wetherell, President Raymond Bye, Vice President, Research Lawrence G. Abele, Provost, VP Academic Affairs Beverly B. Spencer, Vice President, University Relations Kirby W. Kemper, Vice President, Research John R. Carnaghi, Vice President, Administrative Affairs Lee Hinkle, Vice President, University Relations Winston Scott, Vice President, Student Affairs John R. Carnaghi, Vice President, Administrative Affairs Mary Coburn, Vice President, Student Affairs EDITOR: Frank Stephenson EDITOR: Frank Stephenson ASSOCIATE EDITOR: James Call SECTIONS EDITOR: James Call ART DIRECTOR: Robert Celander ART DIRECTOR: Robert Celander WRITERS, THIS ISSUE: Fran Conaway; David formation Technology (CSIT), a unit directed by Gordon WRITERS, THIS Ellen Kim Ashdown, James Cox; Jill Elish; LisaISSUE: Hutcheson; MacQueen; Call, Andy Lindstrom, Neils, Robert Pool, Andy Lindstrom; PatrickParker A. Smith Erlebacher and David Banks. Don Wood ILLUSTRATIONS: Robert Celander ILLUSTRATIONS: Celander PHOTOGRAPHY: Robert Ray Stanyard; Steve Leukanech PHOTOGRAPHY: Ray Stanyard, Jon Nalon, Steve 46 Leukanech Florida State University Researchin Review SHO’ LIKE TO BALL, PAGE 12 GLASS, PAGE 28 F E A T U R E S during the turbulent days of the Depression. Still, each year more than 30,000 Americans stun their friends and relatives by taking their own lives. Why they do is a question few researchers have the courage to tackle..........32 Cover Story Sho’ Like to Ball by Steve MacQueen David Kirby writes as though life were a whimsical dress rehearsal for the real thing. His zany approach to his art appeals to brows high and low, scratching itches common to the human psyche..............................................................12 O T H E R SOUNDS, PAGE 38 F E AT U R E S Sounds of Place by Andy Lindstrom As Vienna’s Johann Strauss Jr. had his Danube River to inspire his best known work, so have American composers let their environments guide their muse. ...................38 The Rocky Road to E-Retail by Parker Neils By the time you read this, you may be a new—and happy— convert to the world of buying online. Or not...............24 Glass Act by Don Wood Prussian Blue is not a Wagnerian opera, but it is from the Old World. An FSU chemist has used this beautiful purple dye to magnetic effect....................................................28 D E P A R T M E N T S Abstracts Periscope on Campus Life & Research..............................2 Sketches Short Takes on the World of Arts & Letters...................8 Portrait Spotlight on Florida State Faculty...............................45 The Why of It All by Robert Pool In the U.S., suicide rates are in decline from historic highs see this issue on our website at www.research.fsu.edu/researchr WINTER 2004 UMA Research-In-Review is a member of The Florida Magazine Association and The University Research Magazine Association. 1 Abstracts P E R I S C O P E O N C A M P U S Big-Time Ball: Hard Cash or Hype? It’s a given that’s rarely challenged: American cities compete ferociously for the privilege of hosting big-time sporting events because these events are guaranteed to shower them with big bucks. Next year’s Super Bowl will pump a cool $250 million into the local economy of Jacksonville, Florida. In 2008, the NCAA Women’s Final Four basketball tournament will drop $23 million into the Tampa Bay area. Or so say community and 2 L I F E A N D sports industry boosters. Problem is, some economists have little faith in studies that generate such figures. And in Florida, with a vibrant tourism industry, the economic impact of both events may be zero, says an FSU sports economist. Michael Mondello, an assistant professor in the department of sport management, says many of the dazzling figures quoted in the media are really aimed at legitimizing a position and should not be taken at face value. For instance, his analysis of the Women’s Final Four in St. Louis (2001) and San Antonio (2002) found a far smaller windfall for the host cities than was reported. Instead of a $23 million impact he found that the 2001 games contributed, at R E S E A R C H most, $11 million to the St. Louis economy and $19 million to San Antonio. Tampa’s weekend of basketball in 2008 could generate very few new dollars to the Hillsborough County economy because of what is called “displacement,” Mondello argues. Promoters are good at adding up the dollars that change hands during the festivities surrounding the big game, he says, but fail to subtract the money that would have been spent anyway, regardless of a Super Bowl or Final Four. The effect is magnified in a state like Florida, he says. “When you have a tourism destination, like Florida is, what happens is that people who would normally come for a visit will stay away and be replaced by fans.” Mondello cites a study of Major League Baseball spring training in Florida, which the Florida Sports Foundation estimates creates a $490 million impact on the state’s economy. But an analysis of sales tax collection in counties that host major league clubs in 1995, when the players were on strike, canceling spring training, and in the previous and subsequent years showed no change. “If there is any impact generated by spring training it is negligible at best,” said Mondello. His conclusion is supported by studies conducted by other sports economists. A 1998 Stanford University analysis found there is little or no increase in taxable sales during the month when a Super Bowl is played in a town. A University of South Florida review of sales tax paid in Miami Dade County showed $2.2 billion dollars collected in January 1999, when Miami hosted a Super Bowl, and $2.4 billion the next year, when the game was played elsewhere. And a study by a couple of Mondello’s graduate students indicates that the millions of dollars of economic impact promised by promoters may take as long as 10 to 15 years to be felt, if it occurs at all. A dollar injected into a local economy needs time to create benefits for that specific economy. And if that dollar is paid to a business that transfers it to corporate headquarters, its impact may be close to zero. “The biggest mistake made in these studies is confusing gross sales with income, money that stays in the community,” said Mondello. “Not all dollars are equal. Money collected as sales tax will stay but if a visitor eats at a chain restaurant then some of the dollars collected are shipped to corporate headquarters and are barely felt locally, if at all.” Remarks like that infuriate Jim Steeg, NFL senior vice president in charge of the Super Bowl since Florida State University Researchin Review ▲ Henry Morrison Flagler 1979. On a promotional tour for this year’s Super Bowl, he told the Houston Chronicle that when he retires he is going to write a book proving that sports economists are wrong about big games lacking an economic impact. “I’m tired of people making a career out of being negative,” said Steeg. ••• Flagler’s Secret Army From Pensacola to Key West, high-school history books praise industrialist Henry Morrison Flagler as “the creator of modern Florida.” What Flagler did for the state—building its first reliable railway link to the industrial centers of New England—is well documented. But how he did it is much less so. In researching the working world of America’s notorious Gilded Age of the late 19th century, FSU sociologist Larry Isaac was surprised to find the names of Flagler and John D. Rockefeller on the membership list of an armed militia whose primary purpose was to force workers to shun unions and accept company policy—or else. That Flagler and Rockefeller were ruthless entrepreneurs is hardly news. The men who turned Standard Oil into a nation-strangling monopoly in the 1870s implemented labor poli- WINTER 2004 cies that both their biographers have described as brutal. In Cleveland, Standard Oil’s headquarters, the company cut wages, provoking strikes, and then mobilized the Cleveland police who waded into crowds wielding nightsticks, cracking heads and breaking unions. Conditions at Flagler’s Key West construction camps during the building of his railroad resembled slavery. Flagler successfully fought off brutality charges in court, although many of the workers turned out to be convicts controlled by foremen armed with whips. But what Isaac found in the Western Reserve Historical Society archives—proof of Flagler and Rockefeller’s close ties to a well-armed group of company thugs—brings into sharper focus the seedy picture of corporate and political life that marked the Gilded Age. Isaac says the discovery shows that the industrialists had become increasingly fearful of the society they helped create. It was a time when America’s white Anglo-Saxon citizenry viewed efforts to unionize immigrants from eastern and southern Europe as a threat to their status. In the absence of any government labor controls, captains of industry took matters into their own hands, forming—and eagerly joining—private militias trained to keep a lid on a restless work force at whatever cost. But the militias also had a secret agenda, says Isaac— the preservation of men’s dominant role in a society that was showing increasing influence from a nascent feminist movement. “The privileges that the upper class enjoyed in the new industrial age led to a fear that someday men would no longer be macho,” said Isaac. “The militia movement was a way for the wealthy to address this private concern while saying they were arming themselves to maintain public order.” Rockefeller’s Cleveland militia even boasted a full cavalry unit and a machine gun battery. In the end, Isaac says these Gilded Age militias were a rugged fraternity, offering manly pursuits like horseback riding, shooting and other martial arts. That apparently wasn’t enough for Flagler. Shortly after joining the militia in 1877, he moved to St. Augustine and tested his manhood by taming the Florida jungle—albeit on the backs of an oppressed army of workers. By the time his railroad was finished in 1912, hundreds of Flagler’s workers had died, including more than 300 who were drowned in a single day by a hurricane in 1906. ••• 3 Abstracts/continued Mideast 101 Florida State is gearing up to be the first university in Florida— and one of just a few in the Southeast—to offer a bachelor’s degree with a major in Middle Eastern studies. Since 9/11, FSU professors offering courses with any Mideast content have been thronged by students who want them. “I went from four to five students to 10 to 15 in graduate seminar topics on Middle Eastern subjects, and my 4000-level survey on Middle Eastern history was the same–now virtually al- 4 ways full,” said Peter Garretson, associate professor of history and director of the university’s recently revived Middle East Center. Garretson is an expert on the Middle East, particularly on Ethiopia and the Sudan. Zeina Schlenoff, assistant director of the center and FSU’s only teacher of Arabic, has to turn away many more students than she accepts, even though she has added classes. The new major, on track to start next fall, will have a core faculty of 13 Middle East experts from seven departments: modern languages, religion, history, classics, urban and regional plan- ning, criminology, anthropology and English. All teachers are already on the FSU faculty. Garretson and Schlenoff hope one day to add subjects– Farsi (Persian) and Turkish, for example. The degree in Middle Eastern studies should make graduates supremely employable, Garretson said. “Every student with decent Arabic will get a good job,” Garretson predicted. With the language and the background, he said, Mideast majors will be recruited by U.S. agencies like the State Department, intelligence, defense, the Treasury, and even the Department of the Interior, whose purview includes domestic oil production. Students who don’t want to work for the federal government will have their pick of companies doing business in the Mideast and non-governmental organizations doing humanitarian work throughout the region. “We need more experts, graduate people who understand the Mideast,” Schlenoff said. The need goes beyond jobs, she said. It also springs from the current frightening international situation, with war and threats of war between cultures that barely know each other. “We’re not good at telling people there (in the Mideast) about democracy, human rights, the good things this country is founded upon,” she said. “This education has to go both ways… to have any hope for peace, respect, tolerance, understanding.” ••• Research Rx Florida State’s newly minted College of Medicine is raising its profile in the academic world— officially hanging out its shingle as a place not just for medical training, but for medical research as well. This fall, the college adds a Ph.D. program in biomedical sciences—the first non-M.D. track within a new Interdisciplinary Health Sciences Program that eventually will offer other doctoral degrees, say school officials. Initially, the new doctorate program will focus on the roles genes play in disease. “The faculty of a medical school should be generators of new knowledge, problem-solvers,” said Associate Dean Myra Hurt. “And when faculty research and teach graduate students, an atmosphere is created that benefits the entire college.” The med school currently has 14 full-time faculty members in biomedical sciences who will lead the new curriculum. Another nine faculty members will be hired and some 25 faculty members from other science-related colleges and schools at FSU will participate in the program, Hurt said. The program begins at a time when interest in studying medicine is growing and federal funding of medical research is reaching an all-time high. “The timing is perfect,” said Brooks Keel, associate vice president for research at FSU and a professor of biomedical sci- Florida State University Researchin Review ▲ ON THE MOVE: This scanning electron microscope catches two Ascaris sperm ••• WINTER 2004 . OF BIOLOGIC S, FSU DEPT P H O T O : TO M ROBERT The Association of American Medical Colleges reports that med school applications nationally rose 3.4 percent in 2003-04 and are up 5 percent compared to fall of ’02. To begin the program, the med school will recruit seven Ph.D. students for the fall semester. That number is expected to increase to 50 by 2009, when the school also will have more than 300 students pursuing the M.D. degree. “We want students who will train to become faculty at other medical schools or work for companies doing this kind of research,” said Hurt. “We’re a new program, but we have a big research infrastructure to work with in a very collegial environment. “ P H O T O : JASON SMITH, (C) ENDEAVORS, UNC-CHAPEL HILL, 2002 ences. “The National Institutes of Health (NIH) recently doubled its funding of research and is now emphasizing science that explores the relationship between genes and disease. FSU is now better able to compete for some of that money and build a bridge between the laboratory and bedside.” The NIH is the largest federal grant-giving agency for biomedical sciences. Last year, it completed a five-year effort that doubled its budget from $13.6 billion in 1998. The increase showed NIH’s popularity on Capitol Hill and the political muscle of advocacy groups seeking funding to battle dozens of diseases. Enrollment numbers at medical schools are increasing as well. More students are pursuing careers in medicine, as either practitioners or researchers. AL SCIENCE cells in the act of crawling. One Small Step Life first appeared on Earth, one theory holds, when amino acids organized themselves into what eventually became living cells. A little over 4 billion years later man began to understand just how is it that those tiny, muscle-less blobs off protoplasm can move. A team of FSU biologists have reproduced in the laboratory a key part of cell movement called retraction. Biologist Tom Roberts and two postdoctoral associates collaborated with Murray Stewart of the Medical Research Council’s Laboratory of Molecular Biology in Cambridge, England to investigate how the sperm cell of a roundworm nematode retracts to create movement. The scientists tore apart a cell, extracted the molecules used for movement, reassembled the cell and manipulated it to move. “Diseases, sickness and infections all involve the movement of cells,” said Roberts. “Understanding how a cancerous cell travels through a body will open new strategies for fighting it.” Cells move by pushing out a finger-like protrusion from the front while retracting, or pulling their rear ends forward. Seven years ago, Roberts was part of a team that figured out how cells push out forward. The mechanics of the pulling motion, the retraction, remained a mystery. “We thought, why not use the same methods we used in the protrusion study and see if they reveal how retraction works,” said Roberts. It took two years of lab work to understand the process and the team published their findings in the November 21 issue of the journal Science. The article describes how the cells push out to grip the surface in front of them by building a network of thousands of tiny protein filaments from their cytoskeletons (molecular equivalent of the human skeleton). The cell moves forward as the filament network moves from the front to the rear of the cell, where it comes apart while pulling the cell forward. Roberts’ team reproduced the retraction, the pulling movement, by introducing an enzyme called a phosphatase to the network of filaments. ••• 5 Abstracts/continued Speed Machine Albert Einstein was skeptical about a meteorologist’s ability to make accurate forecasts. “One need only think of the weather, in which case the prediction for a few days ahead is impossible,” he once said. Since the late 1940s, computer technology has steadily improved the accuracy in weather forecasting. Today, Einstein would gasp at the progress scientists have made in predicting the elements, thanks to increasingly clever hardware and software. Last summer, projections correctly showed Hurricane Isabel’s path more than a week in advance. Scientists program wind velocity and other related data describing a storm into computers and create pictures simulating the direction storms will take and their chances of becoming either pussycats or monsters. Mathematicians at FSU’s School of Computational Science and Information Technology (CSIT) recently succeeded in building some new tools that dramatically speed up the prediction process. The tools are algorithms—mathematical equations—that scientists can use to greatly enhance the powers of high-end computers to draw clearer, animated pictures of developing storms and even oil spills. 6 The algorithms developed by the FSU researchers vastly shrink the amount of information that must be transferred between a computer’s memory and its graphic card, explains Gordon Erlebacher, a CSIT mathematician. Such cards, printed circuit boards installed in the computer, are devices that speed up the downloading of data that create images and animation. The CSIT algorithms enable the cards to translate huge data sets needed to produce large-scale simulations much faster than anything currently on the market. “Our graphic card is 10 times faster and provides a much higher quality of animation than any card on the market,” Erlebacher said. “These graphic cards have the potential of turning a moped-like computer into a Harley Davidson for analyzing wind and tide currents.” Supported by $300,000 in grants from the National Science Foundation and FSU, Erlebacher and his colleagues programmed two different cards— a Radeon 9800 and an nVidia FX 5900 —both popular off-the-shelf models—to create animation of time-dependent vector fields in real time. They run the cards on a Dell Precision Work Station 530. “These new algorithms make it possible to change the parameters as the information becomes available and (thus help) make more accurate predictions,” said Erlebacher. For information about the availability of the software, call Erlebacher at 850-644-0186, or send him an e-mail query at [email protected]. ••• Florida State University Researchin Review ▲ PHOTO: RAY STANYARD The crater-like summit of Florida’s largest gyp stack at IMC-Agrico in Polk County. Gyp-Stack Cost Fix? It’s not like you can lock the gate and just walk away. Toxic waste piled 12 stories high and holding a billion gallons of polluted water makes closing down a phosphate plant complicated— and expensive, as state officials are learning. When the Mulberry Corporation, a subsidiary of the American Phosphate Corporation of Delaware, declared bankruptcy in 2001, it left a 200-foot-tall stack of phosphogypsum, a largely worthless by-product of turning phosphate rock into fertilizer, at its Piney Point plant near Tampa Bay at Port Manatee.␣ Phosphogypsum is piled into what locals call “gyp stacks” — massive volcano-shaped mounds with ponds of water WINTER 2004 typically rich in ammonia and heavy metals in their enormous craters. The pond at the Mulberry site is 50 feet deep. “This site constitutes one of the largest risks to the environment in Florida’s history,” Department of Environmental Protection (DEP) Secretary Allan Bedwell said. Bedwell’s agency governs who can maintain a gyp stack. Two dozen of the huge piles of slightly radioactive waste dot the state, with the majority concentrated in central Florida, the home of the state’s phosphate mining industry. To prevent leaks and spills, when a phosphate plant is closed, the water within a gyp stack is supposed to be processed and drained, the sides collapsed and plastic tarp placed over the site before it is covered with dirt. The state assumed control of the Piney Point stack when Mulberry went out of business and has been spending about $400,000 a month to close the stack and avoid a massive spill into the Gulf. The ultimate closure cost is projected to be $120 million. To prevent getting stuck with such a bill again, DEP is drafting new rules. Last fall, the agency called on FSU finance professor Pamela Peterson to help identify potential “Mulberries,” companies that go out of business and leave a toxic mess behind. Peterson devised a financial test to determine if a corporation had the money needed to close a phosphate plant if it were forced out of business. The agency soon plans to include her test in the financial assurance provision for a phosphate permit. At present, companies need only submit audited statements that show they have the ability to close a facility. But a sudden downturn in the company’s fortunes can lead to bankruptcy, as in Mulberry’s case. Peterson said that looking at the ratios of a company’s net worth to tangible net worth and cash flow to total liability provides a better idea of its financial health. “This is a better method to measure the viability of a company,” said Peterson. “It provides assurance that they can close the site even it everything goes wrong.” A DEP spokesman says the new rules governing the mining and processing of phosphate will go into effect this March. ••• 7 Sketches P H O T O S: JON NALON SHORT TAKES ON THE WORLD OF ARTS & LETTERS AT FLORIDA STATE UNIVERSITY Box-Office Ballet Debut OFFICIALLY, THE ACCLAIMED Suzanne Farrell Ballet opened its 2003–04 tour with a gala December performance at the Kennedy Center in Washington. But privileged Tallahassee audiences had an exclusive preview. Last October the legendary ballerina, and now FSU Eppes Professor of Dance, premiered the tour at the university to benefit the Department of Dance. (On Nov. 12, Farrell also was honored by the White House, tapped as one of 10 recipients of the National Medal of Arts for 2003.) Farrell’s impeccable company filled houses for two different programs of ballets by George Balanchine, the master choreographer who revolutionized classical ballet, and for whom Farrell was a revelatory muse. The company also thrilled FSU dance majors during two weeks of rehearsals and demonstrations while Farrell honed the ballets. Before retiring from the New York City Ballet, Farrell—a daring virtuoso with deep musical and dramatic gifts—danced in more than 100 ballets, many created for her. Now, her deft clarity as a director has impressed both major critics and the public. Her first 1998 concert for the Kennedy Center was a special commission. Today the Suzanne Farrell Ballet is a permanent center project, 30 dancers strong, and hailed for revitalizing Balanchine’s legacy. Dance chair Elizabeth Patenaude invited Farrell to join the FSU Dance Department in 2000, “turning a dream into an incredibly exciting reality.” Farrell, who teaches regularly, says, “I have quick instincts. SUZANNE FARRELL (top), now of I visited the campus, liked the FSU’s School of Dance and Visual faculty and students, and saw Arts, chose the campus for the how hard they worked. The FSU premiere of her 2003-04 tour last Dance Department is part of October. In November, she was what I do now. It doesn’t feel recognized by Pres. George W. Bush tacked on. I feel new and as as one of 10 recipients of the though I’ve been here forever.” National Medal of Arts for 2003. —E.A. 8 Florida State University Researchin Review Hyper-groove. Royal riff. Rev the tempo . Choose your music metaphor—and then overcharge it. Not one but two jazz giants are gracing the FSU music faculty this year. Trumpeter extraordinaire Scotty Barnhart and piano legend Marcus Roberts have been on campus teaching, critiquing students’ performances, sharing the stage with students and faculty—and generally pumping up an already potent jazz program in the School of Music. Leon Anderson, head of the program, says jazz students get a lifetime gift from master performers who also happen to be master teachers. And make no mistake, these are masters, each with strong ties to Tallahassee and Florida State. Barnhart has soloed for 12 years with the world-famous Count Basie Orchestra. As artist-in-residence, he’ll divide his time among Tallahassee, Los Angeles, and the globe. Barnhart’s fall 2002 stint here knocked out standing-roomonly audiences, as he played with the FSU Jazz Ensemble, and dazzled students, as he gave precise pointers. “Scotty is a leading soloist— no one better—playing with a band with a deep legacy,” says Anderson. “He knows the music inside and out, he’s worked with everyone from Sinatra to Gillespie, and his teaching skills are amazing.” Add to that Barnhart’s research and writing. His forthcoming book The World of Jazz Trumpet is the instrument’s most comprehensive study. WINTER 2004 Barnhart, who graduated from Florida A&M University and also spent hours in FSU practice rooms, calls his residency a perfect fit: “I gather crucial experience with the orchestra and top studio musicians— and bring all of it here. Jazz can’t be learned entirely in a classroom.” “Amen,” would agree the ultra-talented Marcus Roberts, who comes to campus as a Wiley Housewright Eminent Scholar. Roberts, a Jacksonville, Fla. native, studied piano at FSU under Prof. Leonidas Lipovetsky before turning pro, honing his art under the wing of Wynton Marsalis. His first three recordings reached No. 1 on the Billboard charts—a first for any jazz musician. A spectacular performer of stride piano and other styles, a composer, and a learned interpreter of the vast jazz canon, Roberts has directed the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra, among many super-achievements. “This is an astounding musician at the pinnacle of his career,” says Leo Welch, professor and publicist for the School of Music. “As a Housewright Scholar, Marcus—in fact the whole Marcus Roberts Trio— spends weeks at a time here. The students’ respect is visible.” “It feels good coming back, to bring out students’ ability and intellect, to pass on whatever musical process I’ve discovered,” Roberts said. As Barnhart puts it: “All jazz masters pass on information, because that’s how they learned. It creates a closeness and respect. And that’s why jazz musicians can get on stage and make music together on the highest level with minimal or no rehearsal.” Now there’s a white-hot session waiting to sizzle: The Marcus Roberts Trio / Scotty Barnhart / FSU Jazz Ensemble in concert at FSU. A homecoming to dream of. —E.A. ALL THAT JAZZ: Students get a rare treat this spring with the addition of two jazz maestros to the music faculty— trumpeter Scotty Barnhart (left) and pianist Marcus Roberts. P H O T O : STEVE LEUKANECH Jazz Squared 9 Sketches/ continued Clockwise from upper left: Spaulding Gray; Cormac de Barco; Michael McDonald; Richard Ford; a ceramic horse from the Koger Collection; and Bobby McFerrin highlight the sixth season of Seven Days of Opening Nights. Sixth Festival Shines New Light in February WITH A NEW FLAVOR AND NEW PARTNERS, Seven Days of Opening Nights, FSU’s annual festival of the fine and performing arts, opens its sixth season Feb. 20. This year, the festival links arms with Tallahassee Community College, Florida A & M University and the Mary Brogan Museum of Art and Science to bring the most diverse group of art and artists since the event began in 1998. Festival ’04 also will be the first to include both pop and folk music performances in its repertoire. FSU’s Ruby Diamond Auditorium, Opperman Music Hall and Turner Auditorium at TCC will host American pop singers Bobby McFerrin and Michael McDonald, plus the Irish crooners, Barco. Rounding out the festival will be performances by Hubbard Street Dance Chicago; actor and writer Spalding Gray (e.g. The Killing Fields, 1984; Swimming to Cambodia, 1987); a musical 10 theatre performance of “An Evening with Maltby & Shire,” and a music and dance production entitled “Irish Melodies and African Rhythms.” A special treat on Feb. 22 will be a screening of 11:14, a newly released thriller written and directed by Greg Marcks, an MFA alum of FSU’s film school. Produced by Media 8 Entertainment, the movie—Marck’s first major film—stars Patrick Swayze and Barbara Hershey. The festival opens Feb. 20 with an exhibition of Chinese ceramics, a stunning collection drawn from the Ringling Museum. This exhibit, in the FSU Museum of Fine Arts, will coincide with the opening of “Pop Art in the Space Age,” an art exhibit featuring the work of Andy Warhol, Jim Dine and other renowned pop artists at the Mary Brogan Museum of Art and Science, downtown Tallahassee. For the latest information on schedules and tickets, www.sevendaysfestival.org or call Kristin Roman at (850) 644-1151. Florida State University Researchin Review Dance Showcase Opens in April P H O T O S: FSU SCHOOL OF VISUAL ARTS & DANCE ONE OF FSU’S CORE historic buildings, the Katherine Montgomery Gymnasium, finally stands to be transformed into a 21st-century dance space. After seven decades of sharing space in the old building with other campus units—and dodging construction for the past three-and-a-half—the university’s Dance Department will soon have an impressive new home. The $17 million project—on schedule to be finished in April— is painstakingly restoring and revitalizing a campus landmark whose history bridges remarkable eras. Built in 1929— when Florida State College for Women flourished as a “southern Radcliffe”—and expanded in 1947 as FSCW became postwar, co-ed Florida State University, the Montgomery building is a model of collegiate gothic architecture. It was also “Miss Katie’s Gym,” where the beloved Katherine Montgomery led women’s physical education from 1923 to 1958 and founded the famous Tarpon Club of synchronized swimmers. Montgomery even sketched the original building for architects. FSU’s top-ranked dance program has been at home in Montgomery for some 70 years. As other departments relocated, the building became dedicated to dance. And now the renovation will turn the building into an ultra-modern showcase for dance education. Consider these features: • Of eight audio-visual, grandpiano equipped studios, the 4,000-square-foot Grand Studio is a stunning light-filled space. (Restoration uncovered an original open-vaulted ceiling.) • The Nancy Smith Fichter Dance Theatre now features a separate lobby, more seating, music and tech booth, sound and light locks, and three-point videotaping. • Dancers and visiting artists finally have real dressing rooms with audio paging, green room with video monitors, on-site costume shop, and a conditioning studio with advanced equipment and sprung floor. • The amazing Dance Technology and Music Wing adds a black box theatre for 360-degree viewing and filming; expands the Music Resource Center (computer composing and editing) with a recording sound stage; and creates a video editing studio—all of it wired together, connected by observation windows, and central to the National Choreography Center, an FSU initiative poised to bring major artists to campus. Dance chair Elizabeth Patenaude relishes the fact that at long last, history and vision came together in Montgomery’s remarkable make-over. “This building is historically significant for FSU and for our respected dance program. We’ve preserved its character while propelling FSU Dance into the future.”—E.A. DANCE SHOWCASE: Construction, set to be complete this April, will turn an entire wing of Montgomery Gymnasium into exclusive space for training in dance and music technology. WINTER 2004 11 DAVID KIRBY arrived home one night to find that construction workers had ripped up his sidewalk and re- poured the concrete, leaving a moist tabula rasa right in front of his house. What writer could resist that blank page? Kirby found a screwdriver and dug in. The wet cement had been there a while, so he didn’t have much time, but he managed to scrawl out two names. His own? His wife’s? His children’s? N o. John Keats. Little Richard. Question #1 of three most-asked-questions-of-poets is: Who are your major influences? A screwdriver-wielding Kirby, an FSU English professor and highly lauded poet, was tipping his hat to a pair of his idols, and in concrete, no less. He’s nuts for Keats’ graceful language of the 19th century, and Little Richard’s hopped-up energy of the 20th (I hear America singing; it sounds like Little Richard.—line from “For Men Only,” LSU Press, 2000). “A guy asked me recently to give him a list of 10 poetry books that were essential, so I’m listing Blake, Whitman, Wordsworth, Dante,” recalls Kirby. “But I added The Essential Little Richard because, as different as his branch of show business and my branch of show business are, I want my poems to move fast and I want people to like them. And you can’t get all of that from Dante.” ’ SHO LIKE David Kirby hits ‘em high and low in a galloping career through 12 Florida State University Researchin Review DAVID KIRBY P H O T O : BARBARA HAMBY TOBALL the quirky world of free verse. Little Richard would be proud. B Y WINTER 2004 S T E V E M A C Q U E E N 13 Kirby has been an FSU English professor since 1969, and his poetry alone has earned him a National Endowment for the Arts fellowship, four Pushcart Prizes, the Kay Deeter Award, the Guy Owen Prize, the James Dickey Prize, the Millennium Cultural Recognition Award, two appearances in Best American Poetry, and the Brittingham Prize. In 2003, he also was honored by a fellowship from the Guggenheim Memorial Foundation. “The greatest benefit of the Guggenheim is peer recognition because it is so difficult to get,” says Kirby, who received his award on the fourth try. “The result is that people look at you in a different way. It doesn’t mean you’re any better, but they look at you as though you are.” Add numerous teaching awards, 22 books on a wide range of subjects, hundreds of articles and reviews in major outlets, and membership on the National Book Critics Circle’s Board of Directors, and you end up with a pretty distinguished career, one that last year earned Kirby the highest distinction that FSU faculty can bestow upon a peers, the Robert O. Lawton Distinguished Professorship. “That’s all the headlines,” Kirby shrugs. “They don’t talk about all the liquor stores I held up.” All in all, 2003 was a very good year for Kirby, but he keeps it all in perspective. “Since I got (the Lawton Professorship), I’ve been asked to speak to every group on campus except the defensive line,” he quipped. “For a year I get to do that, like Miss America.” S ea mless Se ns ibilit y Witty and soft-spoken, Kirby’s raspy voice is instantly recognizable to anyone who’s heard him read in public or taken one of his popular poetry workshops. His conversation is marked, like his poetry and his driveway, with references both high and low. Henry James and Virginia Woolf sit easily alongside Fats Domino and Fountains of Wayne. Compact discs by Bach, Aretha Franklin and a New Orleans party band, The Iguanas, occupy the top of the stereo. A stack of books features poems by Keats and Nobel Prize winner Wislawa Szymborska, etchings by Giovanni Piranesi, Sena Jeter Nasland’s Four Spirits, and Simon Winchester’s Meaning of Everything, which explores the creation of the Oxford English Dictionary. A few feet away is a turntable devoted strictly to the playing of some nearby 45s, topped by Lesley Gore and the Bee Gees. So-called high culture and low are so co-mingled in Kirby’s universe that there’s really no difference. In “Your Momma Says Omnia Vincit Amor,” Michelangelo and Aretha Franklin collide to create a singular impression: 14 Running down the Via degli Annibaldi I hear Aretha say my momma said leave you alone and as I hurry up the steps of the church of San Pietro in Vincoli I hear her say my daddy said come on home and as I turn to go down the right aisle she says my doctor said take it easy and then I stop right in front of Michelangelo’s Moses: oh but your loving is much too strong for the chain chain chains which were used to bind St. Peter in Palestine and are themselves preserved under glass in the same church. And in fact, Kirby explains, the goal is to get beyond such distinctions of high/low and job/life and work/art, to see everything as more of a whole. “The operative word is ‘seamlessness,’” Kirby explains. “Once, Barbara (Hamby, his wife and fellow poet) and I went to see this really interesting folk artist named Charlie ‘Tin Man’ Lucas in Rogue, Alabama. He makes these hybrid creatures out of car parts, pterodactyls in trees made out of Dodge hoods, and he has these creatures that look like deer made out of shock absorbers. And he just came out and talked and showed us his workshop and he hit this thing with a hammer a couple times. “There was none of this feeling of ‘When are these people going to leave so I can get back to my art?’ There were no seams between this guy’s work and his art. That’s where I want to be.” S t u f f i n g the Wa reho u se Looking over Kirby’s bibliography, it’s clear that the man keeps busy. But he’s no hermit. Kirby and his wife are fixtures around town, catching bands in various nightspots, hitting the art openings, attending the English department’s weekly readings, or perhaps sitting in the movie theater, where Kirby often indulges his passion for “bad cinema” (his poem “An Otherwise Mediocre Film” offers a very funny explanation for his attraction to this dubious art form). But when he sits down to write, there’s never a shortage of ideas. “I don’t know when I learned it, but the key is just listening,” he explained. “Be a sponge. That’s where you get rhythms and that’s where you get stories. You put the stuff in the warehouse. I have these long folders of 30 or 40 pages with quotes and memories and sound bytes and snippets of conversations, and I raid that all the time.” Florida State University Researchin Review It’s dark out there. The woods are black; you could walk into them, if you wanted, and a little path would take you farther and farther from your old life, and soon you’d see this cottage, and there’d be music coming out of it, and you’d look in, and Little Richard would be there and Ali and Roy Orbison and yourself when you were a child but also a teenager and a young man, too, and everybody’d be talking and laughing, and somebody would look up and see you as you are now, and they’d all wave and say, hey there, we’ve been waiting for you, come on in. —from “The House of Blue Light” ( The House of Blue Light, LSU Press, 2000) WINTER 2004 15 Sam Cooke makes me think of Herman Melville. Sometimes when I hear Sam Cooke’s voice I feel as though I’m ‘speeding up,’ as Robert Lowell used to say when he started to go into one of his manic phases, and that’s when I feel about soul music what James Dickey must have felt about poetry when he said it was “just naturally the greatest goddamn thing that ever was in the whole universe.” Sometimes I go out in the morning and it is raining so hard that the vines seem ready to reach up out of the earth and pull me down and drown me. And on other days the sun is out, and I still have the taste of a great cup of coffee in my mouth, and there’s already a hint of fall in the air, and my team won the night before, and Sam Cooke is still dead. —from “The King Is Dead” ( My Twentieth Century, Orchises, 1999) 16 Florida State University Researchin Review That brings us to Question #2 : how do you deal with writer’s block? Well, he doesn’t. “There’s really not any such thing,” he said. “Writer’s block is a false metaphor because it sounds as though you’re circling this Fort Knox that’s filled with gold and rubies and sapphires and you can’t get in. But you’re the one who put the gold and sapphires there. And sometimes canned hams and old typewriter ribbons and clarinet reeds.” The secret is knowing that there’s nothing too outrageous, nothing too obsessive or odd—and applying just a little dedication to the craft. “John Kenneth Galbraith says if you write a page a day and take off for holidays and weekends, that’s 300 pages a year and that’s a book,” Kirby said “It’s just work habits. I think about writing every day. Sometimes it’s two hours, sometimes it’s four hours, but I always devote some time to it. I never sit and stare at a blank page.” C la ss Ac t , To o Since arriving at FSU in 1969, he has directed 25 undergraduate honors theses, 41 masters theses and 20 doctoral dissertations. Thousands of students have passed through his American literature classes and poetry workshops. You’ll occasionally hear professors rail against the failure of modern education, the lax standards of today’s students and a lack of intellectual curiosity, but you won’t hear it from Kirby. “The students that we get now are so much better than they’ve ever been,” Kirby says. “I think that’s because we can be more selective. When I first started teaching, about 20 percent of kids went to college and now that number is up to 70 percent. Barbara had a kid who wanted to go to cosmetology school and her parents wouldn’t let her. They told her she had to go to college.” He’s also made a deep impression on hundreds of other students who didn’t pursue the artistic life. Chantalle Couba, for instance, earned her master’s in systems design, but took every Kirby class she could. “When I was a sophomore at FSU, I was going to class sometimes and not going other times,” Couba recalled, “And he pulled me aside and said, ‘Please come to my class: it makes a difference when you’re here.’ In a school with 30,000 people, it really matters when a professor does that. He genuinely made me feel like he cared.” Tony Morris, who earned his Ph.D. in creative writing at FSU, had a similar experience. “David Kirby has this wonderful combination of not taking himself too damn seriously and at the same time having a wealth of information and knowledge that, because of his years in the field of writing, I really trusted,” Morris said. “He was tough in WINTER 2004 the sense of wanting to push us as writers, to keep working and keep improving. He’s always been generous with his time and his thoughts. It’s hard to be in a bad mood around him, unless you’re determined.” Such student praise helped Kirby earn special university teaching awards in 1992, ’94, ’97 and ’99. “I’m lucky in that I have so much to choose from,” Kirby said. “It’s not like teaching a German class, where every year you have to say ‘Now, let’s conjugate haben.’ I can change the form whenever I want to, so it’s never gotten boring.” Pa rtners i n Verse For 22 years, Kirby has been married to fellow poet Barbara Hamby, whom he met at a New Year’s Eve party following the demise of his first marriage. And while the movie version—obviously some updated Spencer Tracy/Katherine Hepburn rivalsturned-lovers tale that would focus on competition—the real story focuses on cooperation. “It’s more of an ongoing workshop,” Hamby says. “You never have to explain what you’re doing. If you need to go off and write something—like when we’re traveling and I get a crush on something and start following it around—I never have to explain it, because David does the same thing.” Hamby, a writer-in-residence within FSU’s English department, says their age difference (Kirby is eight years older) has helped because the two are at different stages in their careers, meaning they hardly ever compete directly against each other for prizes, awards or publications. Instead, the two tend to nurture each other, frequently looking over each other’s work. “It’s wonderful to have someone who can read your work, someone you trust,” says Hamby. “That’s a wealth above rubies.” Her husband concurs. “I’ve had writers say they couldn’t imagine being married to a writer, but I couldn’t imagine not being married to one,” Kirby says. “It’s everywhere. We’ll be making dinner and we’ll start talking about poetry.” Hamby is a frequent character in Kirby’s well-traveled poems (just as he often pops up in hers). You can find her sketching in Italy, walking across a field in rural Alabama, dancing in the kitchen and dining with friends. She doesn’t mind. “I come off so well in those poems—better-looking, smarter, funnier,” Hamby laughs. “Who wouldn’t love it?” By t he B o ok Kirby didn’t have to search for the academic life. He was born into it. His father was a renowned professor at Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge, his mother was an elementar y 17 school teacher, and his older brother became a medical-school dean. “My father was a Chaucerian, a medievalist,” Kirby recalls, “And they’re a different breed. It’s like being in a cult. He knew Icelandic and old Norse and he had all these dictionaries with words where the o’s had smiley faces and there were umlauts over the t’s.” Kirby spent some of his pre-teen youth tending bar at his father’s departmental parties (a job he passed along to his own sons a few decades later), learning his mixers by pouring drinks for the likes of Pulitzer Prize winning novelist and poet Robert Penn Warren and the renowned literary critic Cleanth Brooks. Kirby’s passions skewed to the literary, naturally, but not in his father’s direction. Few would view a Ph.D. from Johns Hopkins (which Kirby picked up in 1969) as a form of rebellion, but that’s how it played out at the Kirby house. “I wrote about Henry James (for my thesis), which my father thought was pretty risqué, kind of avant garde,” Kirby says. “Like I’d dropped out to go surfing.” Moment by Mo m e nt Given his extraordinary success as an academic and poet, it’s logical enough to wonder what next? What is still left for Kirby 18 to accomplish in the world of poetry? The answer is simple: more work. “I don’t care if I ever win another prize in my life,” Kirby says flatly. “Poetry’s one of those fields where honors come to you because you’re so deeply invested in the pleasures of the work itself. Prizes are surprises; you’re happily making your poems in your cave there, and suddenly there’s a shadow in the doorway: it’s the prize guy! If you’re smart, you’ll say, ‘Hey, thanks! Put it down over there, if you can find a space! Want something to drink?’ But you don’t ask if you can have another; you just go back to work.” The real goal for Kirby is another of those fleeting times when everything comes together in the poem and its presentation, something Kirby calls ‘the moment.’ “I’ve noticed that when I read a poem that’s really working, it’s as though something else has entered the room. Usually you can’t see your audience—they’re out there in the darkness somewhere— but you can feel them leaning toward you, or toward the poem, actually. “I’ve looked up from my page at moments like that, and sometimes I’ll just stop. Sometimes I think I could wait up there a half hour and nobody would move. They’d rather be dead than not know what’s going to happen next. And then I wake up and finish reading my poem, and you can hear the people Florida State University Researchin Review I first started giving poetry readings about the time I re-discovered Whitman– I’d been writing like Dickinson and Gerard Manley Hopkins, and people would say, “Hmm, nice!” or “Now that’s some interesting language there!” But then I started reading Father Walt, he of the tousled locks and the vast, unkempt beard, progenitor of all those bastards (or so he said to woo the homophobes of his day), and, after that, his fathers, the Hebrew poets of the Old Testament with their towering accretions of rhetoric that just built and built and built, and my own poems started getting longer and– well, damn it, better, I thought, only if there’s nobody there to hear them, then what’s the point? —from “The Werewolf” ( The Ha-Ha , LSU Press, 2003) letting their breath go, and then there’s applause, and the lights come up, and people start talking to one another… This doesn’t happen very often, obviously. But when it does, you’d rather be in that moment than anywhere else on earth.” In the meantime, there’s another new volume of poetry, The Ha-Ha (LSU Press, 2003), which has been receiving the usual praise from sources like The New York Times Book Review: “The loquacious style of David Kirby’s poetry can sometimes resemble the riffs of a brainy stand-up comedian... In relating seemingly autobiographical, spryly digressive sagas about work, marriage, travel, and even the joys of mediocre movies, Kirby makes the narrative poem—a form often proclaimed to be outdated—amusing, lively and relevant enough for contemporary tastes.” Of course, if Kirby needs a reality check on the popularity of poets, he need look no farther than his own family. His elder son, Will Kirby, a doctor specializing in internal medicine, became an overnight TV sensation and hear t-throb (see: www.willkirby.net) when he starred on the reality TV show Big Brother, in which a houseful of roommates take turns evicting each other until only one remains. The show was a big hit for CBS in 2001 and Kirby was able to log in to the show’s web site and keep track of his kid. “They had a 24-hour live feed and I’d minimize it up in the WINTER 2004 corner of my computer screen and I’d be able to watch Will sleep, then I’d watch him wake up and stretch, go make an eggwhite omelette. It was very comforting.” Will, who earned the nickname Dr. Evil for his tactics on the show, actually won the competition, earning $500,000 and some red-hot celebrity notoriety and perks. “What I discovered is that when you’re related to a celebrity, you’re a celebrity,” Kirby says. “We went out to eat one night and we were waiting in line with everyone else when the hostess sees us and says, ‘Will? How many?’ And we were seated ahead of all these other people. Fortunately, we were in Los Angeles so nobody cared.” S u nd ae D rive The poet who gets a lot of criticism is a critic in turn. Kirby’s critical reviews and essays frequently crop up in the Times, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, The Southern Review and the national literary magazine, Triquarterly. He also has written books of scholarly criticism on Mark Strand, Herman Melville, Henry James and Grace King. Edward Hirsch, president of the John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation, called Kirby “one of the top poet-critics working in the United States today,” praising his “literary range, 19 Pity the Poor Poet The words “poetry” and “money” seldom occur in the same sentence. Poets are expected to be poor: It makes about as much sense to say “that big idiot Albert Einstein” as it does “multimillionaire Emily Dickinson.” After all, the poet of most people’s stereotype is Rodolfo of Puccini’s “La Boheeme,” who burns his manuscript in the opening scene to warm his garret in the Latin Quarter of Paris. Yet obviously poets have managed to make ends meet over the ages. You teach, you win prizes, you get grants— you even make a little money from the books you publish, though I’ve made a by David Kirby lot more by reviewing other poets’ books than from collecting royalties from mine. But the real wealth in poetry isn’t monetary. People who question the value of poetry need to consider this: Why have there always been poets? Since the dawn of history, every culture has had poets; why do people write and read poetry if it isn’t hugely rewarding? Of poetry’s many rewards, the greatest is freedom to say whatever you want. W.H. Auden pointed out that, precisely because poetry is so ill-paid, the poet can do pretty much his quintessentially American openmindedness, and his humane sensibility.” Kirby’s What Is a Book? (U. Georgia Press, 2002), a collection of essays and critiques, reflects those very qualities. Kirby’s not too hot on rhyming couplets or Jim Morrison, or Jewel, or the so-called “wino poet laureate of L.A.,” the late Charles Bukowski. Kirby calls the pop trio “the dark triumvirate whose evil influence is pervasive in American undergraduate poetry these days.” But he’s constructive rather than hostile, a level-headed reader who writes from appreciation rather than high-mindedness. “Reviewing is trying to describe what’s going on to people who want to hear it, “Kirby explains. “And, as Kurt Vonnegut said, a vicious book review is like a knight in full armor riding full-tilt towards a hot-fudge sundae. You should save your anger for things that actually deserve it.” E ve r y m a n Po et ▲ EARLY INFLUENCES: Kirby’s parents, Thomas and Josie Dyson Kirby, pose on a honeymoon trip to Niagara Falls, 1936. 20 Reading Kirby’s six collections of poetry in chronological order illuminates the development of his art. The early poems are shorter, not as conversational and less directly autobiographical. Then, starting somewhere around the publication of My Twentieth Century (Ochises, 1999), the length expands, the pace increases and the tone shifts. As Kirby himself explains in the poetic forward to My Twentieth Century: Florida State University Researchin Review as he or she pleases, because there’s no possibility of selling out. That’s why I get the feeling sometimes that my novelist colleagues are looking at me with a faint air of pity. After all, their novels might be optioned by Hollywood, and as everybody knows, you get paid when a studio buys the rights to your book even if it’s never turned into a movie. I, on the other hand, will be fortunate if someone pays me enough for my latest poem that I can take my wife out to dinner at a place where I won’t be asked if I want fries with my order. Why write poetry at all, then? The answer is that there are lots of different kinds of wealth, and money is just one of them. When we think of Homer and Virgil and Dante, we think of laurel leaves, not gold (that’s Midas’s department). I consider myself a rich man, even if I don’t have a huge bank account. So am I worried that Poetry magazine has just gone from being a postage stamp-sized operation to a mighty empire? Not a bit. I’m rubbing my hands together gleefully, because it looks as though the Lilly bequest is going to go to poetry, not poets. After editor (Joseph) Parisi gets I’ve been working on what I call ‘memory poems’ or longish narrative poems that stick as closely as possible to events I actually experienced. Each memory poem is thus part poem / part memoir, though each has a certain shape to it that mere autobiography doesn’t have The words and the rhythm are conversational, despite their velocity, creating the illusion of everyday speech—even though it’s safe to say that nobody really talks like that. Kirby has his own term for the style—“ultra-talk.” “I wanted to make my poetry conversational but take out the ‘uhs’ and ‘ums,’ give it a cup of coffee, and just make it smart and funny and fast.” It seems to have worked. David Lehman, editor of The Best American Poetry series, said that Kirby’s poems “demonstrate a great agility of mind and a wonderful sense of humor. His poems are discursive, conversational, skillfully blending narrative with argument.” Billy Collins, the current U.S. poet laureate, calls Kirby “one of the most engaging and original voices on the American poetr y scene today…I could recognize a Kirby poem on the page across a room, just as I could recognize one of Emily Dickinson’s.” Kirby’s poems are perfect for those who say they don’t like poetry. Because of the conversational tone, the ever-present humor, and the grounding in realistic, everyday situations, they read like lyrical stand-up humor frequently accompanied by a headslapping piece of insight at the end. Kirby finds comedy in Elvis WINTER 2004 some expert financial advice, he says he plans to move the magazine to more spacious quarters, expand its staff and start new programs, including one to show high school teachers how to introduce students to the pleasures of poetry. But even if some money ends up in poets’ pockets, I’m not worried about anyone being corrupted. Poets know the real money is in the poems. What else would we conclude? We’ve been writing for nothing too long to think otherwise. — reprinted with permission from The Christian Science Monitor Presley (“Elvis would be a dim memory / to most people were it not for the Weekly World News / and those crappy oldies stations that people listen to / so they can find out what they missed / back when they were too busy painting signs for / their pro-segregation rallies to listen to the radio” he writes in “The King Is Dead”) and the small obit afforded a baseball player in “The Death of Fred Snodgrass”: San Francisco, April 6, 1974. It says here in the Chronicle: “Fred Snodgrass, who muffed an easy fly ball that helped to cost the New York Giants the 1912 World Series, died yesterday at age 86.” F— you, Fred Snodgrass. Some things, we never forgive. In House of Blue Light (LSU Press, 2000)—a title he lifted from a lyric in Little Richard’s 1958 hit “Good Golly, Miss 21 It says HELL IS HOT HOT HOT HOT and NO SEX WITH MEN ALOUD and NO ICE WATER IN HELL on the hundreds of washers and dryers and air conditioner housings that stud the land the land around outsider artist W. C. Rice’s house in Prattville, though Mr. Rice isn’t well today, so I’m chatting through the bedroom window of a man I visit every three-four years to talk a while and then stroll the property that offers an ineluctable foreknowledge of The Pit to people like me, though Mr. Rice has always been nice as pie, never proselytizing or even asking if I’ve been saved, which, according to him, either you are or you aren’t. —from “The Temple Gate Called Beautiful” 22 Florida State University Researchin Review Molly”—Kirby puts verse to a cheeky encounter he had in France with a hot-shot movie producer. In “Roman Polanski’s Cookies,” the poet just happens upon a film shoot in Paris and notices a plate of cookies on a nearby table. …and even though the cookies are obviously for the actors, I can’t help sneaking one, and it turns out to be exactly the kind of cookie I’m thinking of… and soon I’m hog-facing those cookies like nobody’s business, only just then I look up, and there’s Roman Polanski standing there with that big cigar in his hand and staring at me with a look of pure hatred, as if to say, “Stop eating all those goddamned chocolate-covered graham crackers!” And while part of me wants to say, “Make your movie, dude, it’s only a cookie,” another part of me realizes that maybe they’re his favorite cookies too, and that even while he was blocking out the scene and moving lights around and giving the actors their cues, what he’d really been obsessing on was those chocolate-covered graham crackers, same as me, though who’s to say? Who, including ourselves, knows what we know and when we know it?” T o What E nd And so we arrive at Question #3 of the three most-askedquestions-of-poets, this one hitting at the heart of poetry itself: Why, in this media-saturated age, is poetry still important? Kirby says the question of poetry’s ultimate value to the human experience has been the topic of debate by scholars and lay people alike for centuries. Somehow, despite the profound cultural changes wrought ‘round the globe by modernity, poetry has clung tenaciously to life as a unique form of literary art. Kirby credits this remarkable survival to poetry’s success in surmounting two paradoxes that apparently don’t arise in other forms of art and self-expression. “The first paradox is that poetry is both the most worthless and the most highly-valued commodity in the world,” he said. “And the second rises from the first; it is that everyone hates poetry and everyone is a poet.” In an essay he wrote last year for The Christian Science Monitor, Kirby opined on the topic of poetry’s intrinsic worth. “People who question the value of poetry need to consider this: why have there always been poets?,” he wrote. “As far as that goes, why is there a poet laureate but not a novelist laureate WINTER 2004 ▲ BO DIDDLEY, PERCY SLEDGE, and the Rotary Club conspire to inform Kirby’s latest book, The Ha-Ha (LSU Press, 2003). or playwright laureate, not to mention a composer/painter/ sculptor/filmmaker laureate? Since the dawn of history, every culture has had poets; why do people write and read poetry if it isn’t hugely rewarding to them?” Obviously, such rewards have little if anything to do with money. When it comes to capitalist cultures’ obsession with putting price tags on anything of value, poetry may be the last art form to wear one. Last year, the poetry world was stunned by the news that Poetry magazine, the art form’s leading American journal and a publication that has survived on a shoestring for decades, was handed more than $100 million from Ruth Lilly, an heir to the Eli Lilly pharmaceutical fortune. Kirby’s Monitor essay addressed the meaning of this windfall in typically humorous fashion (see an excerpt, page 20). Surely, to many devotees poetry’s appeal will always be its power as a balm for deeply rooted personal fears, even an antidote to what they view as the creep of cultural malaise. And for higher education, no better expression of the fundamental values of the liberal arts tradition (remember those?) can be found on any campus anywhere—a curriculum exuberantly freed from the trade-school imperative of pursuing high-dollar degrees. Relievedly beyond the why of the art, here’s a final bulletin on the matter: From his dandy pulpit at Florida State, David Kirby is standup proof that poetry not only still lives, but good golly, rocks.RR 23 ee Online buying is catching on—but catching up with our shopping The Rocky Road As the countdown to the holiday buying season ticked toward Christmas last fall, the nation’s retailers were salivating over what economic forecasters were saying about online buying. Prognosticators called for a record buying season, boosted by a predicted 40 percent jump in online retail sales over last year’s seasonal tallies. Has the much ballyhooed revolution in wired retailing finally arrived? Hardly. While the popularity of online buying is obviously on the rise, the hyperbole of e-commerce boosters heard in the nascent days of the technology seven years ago contrasts loudly with consumers’ overwhelming preference for walking into real stores—parking nightmares, rude clerks and all. And nothing is likely to change that anytime soon, say researchers. The online share of the 2002 holiday retail total was pegged at just 2.3 percent—a figure some theorists compare to something between a curious consumer toe nudging the door open to a high-tech way of buying things and a whole foot making tracks to the virtual counter. If projections held, that fraction of cyber customers responsible for the whole holiday spending pie will jump to a whopping 4 percent for the season just ended. In terms of raw dollars, the picture is this: For the second quarter of 2003, the U.S. Census Bureau reported $12.4 billion of online sales, compared to about $860 billion total retail U.S. sales in those three months. “E-retailing has not taken off, because the chasm between two groups (innovators and early adopters) r emains unbridged.” The statement comes from a summary 24 of a study done by a husband-and-wife team of FSU researchers published last year in The Journal of Product and Brand Management. Here’s what Ron and Elizabeth Goldsmith went on to conclude: “As a result, the apparent mass market for e-commerce remains a future dream. Two thirds of Americans might have access to the Internet, but they are not using it to buy things—at least not in sufficient numbers.” And the main reason? “We know too little about the differences between the enthusiastic innovators who buy goods online and the rest who are happy to look but do not buy.” The Goldsmiths are among a number of researchers nationwide who study the latter-day phenomenon of online buying. Curiously, despite the undeniable fact that consumers who buy goods and services online represent the fastest growing crowd of shoppers on the planet, precious little is known about them, the Goldsmiths say. Such a paucity of demographic information contrasts with a rich knowledge of old-hat consumer behavior, e.g. hitting the malls and mail-order catalogs. This disparity amounts to costly ignorance on the part of retailers who are spending loads of cash trying to capitalize on what everybody sees as the vast potential of the Internet marketplace. Today’s new breed of e-retailers knows that the age-old rule that applies to doing business the old fashioned way also applies to e-commerce: Learn who your customers are and what they like—or watch your business sink like a rock. Ron Goldsmith, the Richard M. Baker Professor of Marketing within FSU’s College of Business, describes himself as a consumer psychologist. He’s co-author of Consumer Psychology for Marketing (International Thompson Business, 1998), and Florida State University Researchin Review e e habits? No, but retailers ignore the wired store at their peril. -Retail e to three book chapters on marketplace innovation and more than 100 articles on consumer buying habits and related subjects. Goldsmith’s frequent research partner is his wife Elizabeth, a consumer economist and professor of textiles and consumer sciences within FSU’s College of Human Sciences. Like Ron, she also is interested in helping the merchants know their customers, but she focuses as well on what customers need to know about buying. Working from somewhat different angles in different disciplines, the Goldsmiths are trying to refine their answers to the marketing question of the young Internet age: Who’s buying online? A corollary of nearly equal import is: Who’s not buying online and why? Both Goldsmiths agree that despite merchants’ thirst for answers, to be successful in tomorrow’s economy, they will have no choice but to go online. “It’s the WINTER 2004 wave of the future,” Elizabeth Goldsmith said, explaining why universities, or at least the Goldsmiths, feel obliged to research, report and teach it.␣ Despite the bumps in the information highway, e-commerce is on a steady course to reach a certain maturity before too long, the Goldsmiths say, which means online buying will figure increasingly important to retailers’ bottom lines. The New York Times reported last November that 65 million U.S. households were online, and 25 to 30 million were buying online. As more of the 65 million online users B Y P A R K E R N E I L S 25 get into the habit of shopping by computer, some experts expect the current 2 to 4 percent will become 10 percent in five to 10 years. That rate of increase may rise even faster as computer users take advantage of improvements in safety, convenience and simplicity, some observers say. Right now, this growth fits the pattern of what marketers call innovation diffusion, Ron said, the process by which new ideas and products get accepted in a marketplace—or don’t. Despite its failure to reach early projections, he said that the growth of e-commerce is “on schedule.” He predicts that online sales will eventually settle down to the same kind of growth rate that all of retail is enjoying (about 3 percent annually at the end of 2003). Just as the flower of e-commerce shows signs of blossoming into a retailing colossus, the A specialist in studying what motivates consumers to buy anynation’s lawmakers are fiddling with the pruning shears. thing in the first place, Ron says Or so say those opposed to taxing the Internet. Last November, before the U.S. Senate that decades of marketing recould vote on a House-approved measure to extend the country’s five-year ban on taxing search have revealed a pattern Internet access, the bill died in a bipartisan crossfire of complaints. that is gradually unfolding in the Enacted as The Internet Tax Freedom Act of 1998, the ban—now lifted—was aimed at blowbudding world of online buying. No matter how anything gets ining life into the fledging Internet marketplace. The law barred states from slapping taxes on troduced into the market— Internet service providers, who would be obliged to pass those taxes on to their customers. whether conventional or in As long as the moratorium remains lifted, states and municipalities will have a legal shot cyberspace—once there it has to at taxing almost all phases of e-commerce, advocates of the ban say. This scenario opens run a highly predictable gauntthe door to multi-state taxes on Internet sales, higher tax rates for online sales than tradilet of consumer tastes and habtional retail sales, new taxes on Internet service and on Internet access itself. As time ran its to succeed, he said. New products or technoloout amid rancorous senatorial squabbling Nov. 25, Sen. George Allen, R-Va., the extension gies always must first pass musbill’s chief sponsor, vowed to bring the measure back for a vote as early as possible this year. ter before “innovators”— Allen, who favors a permanent ban on Internet taxation, had argued that lifting the tax people who are quick to test moratorium now would be a blow to the high-tech industry in general and could cripple drive new things—and then online businesses just as they’re beginning to turn a profit. Predictably, tech-sector lobbymove toward what the market really craves—the eyes of mature ists vehemently agreed. customers who feel comfortable “The last thing we need is for the cost to individual consumers and businesses to go up,” with innovations and their buysaid Mark Bohannon, a senior vice president of the Software and Information Industry Assoing habits. In the marketing jarciation. “That would be a direct deterrent to using the Internet.” gon, this is the “late majority” Proponents for lifting the ban argue that e-commerce is now a mature, stable industry crowd, says Goldsmith. A primary reason for the dethat should no longer be given any special tax breaks. They argue that states are missing layed arrival of the e-commerce out on billions in tax revenues each year as consumers increasingly turn to the Internet for revolution, they believe, is that their news, entertainment and shopping. —F.S. the true pioneers in Internet The Taxman Cometh? 26 Florida State University Researchin Review distinctions most marketing researchers look for first. The only important differences the Goldsmiths have found so far between online and never-online (so far) shoppers are in their general habits, attitudes and, to some extent, personalities. Internet One recent recent Goldsmith One Goldsmith study of of online online study shoppers found found no shoppers no demographic demographic differences, the very very differences, the shoppers, Elizabeth said, are consumers who most likely are going to be using the Internet anyway. “Buying is (simply) another thing to do on the Internet,” she said. “It’s almost less linked to shopping than related to being online. They just enjoy being online, and shopping is another outlet for them.” In several sur veys, the Goldsmiths have asked consumers about their shopping—how and where they do it and how they feel about it. They found that the ones who shop on the Internet are more confident than the others that it’s a safe way to buy things. The never-or-rarelyonline shoppers are afraid of the Internet, Ron said. They say they don’t know how to be sure the money will go where it should, that their privacy and control will survive and the products will be delivered as promised. Online buyers do have that confidence, the surveys showed, and they say that kind of shopping is fun, fast, easy and convenient. On one point, both online and offline shoppers agreed. Both groups said they thought online buying saves money (although the specter of Internet taxation could dampen that opinion before long— see opposite page). Whether the prices are better online or they’re not, the Goldsmiths do not predict that stores will ever disappear, surrendering the bulk of retail sales to the Internet. “Everybody will keep shopping in stores, catalogues, on phones, everything,” Liz Goldsmith said. “Some people are totally online, but most are a combination.” Will brick-and-mortar stores be hurt by the competition from the Internet? “Not if they’re smart and have an online store, too.”RR e shopping—the innovators—are still a small crowd. Innovators tend to be venturesome people who have enough money to take chances and enough sophistication to figure out how to use new technology. They also generally have enough influence on trends and tastes that other shoppers eventually follow their lead. But by all accounts, right now these “fire starters”—innovators—make up only about the first 2.5 percent of the buyers, the Goldsmiths say. If merchants are going to make any money on the Internet (most of them aren’t making much yet, or are in fact losing money, according to the Goldsmiths), they need to attract the next group of consumers, the so-called “early adopters.” Right now, this group—which eventually develops into the “late majority” of mature online buyers— makes up about 13.5 percent of Internet customers. To do this effectively, of course, retailers need to know all they can about who they need to pitch their online services to, and how best to do that. If merchants can figure out who the early buyers are and then make them repeat buyers, they’ll be able to use them to recruit larger groups of customers, Ron said. This will be the bridge between “innovators” and “early adopters” that’s sorely needed, he said. So just what have the Goldsmiths learned about online customers? Surprisingly, it doesn’t much matter how old they are or which sex (although men and women are interested in different products: women buy more clothes and men buy more electronics), and ethnicity and income don’t make much difference either. One recent Goldsmith study of online shoppers, in fact, found no such demographic differences, the very WINTER 2004 distinctions most distinctions most marketing researchers marketing researchers look for first. look for first. 27 GLASS ACT 28 A RARE FORM OF MAGNETIC GLASS PIQUES Florida State University Researchin Review B Y hemist Albert Stiegman wanted to make a pretty glass that would change color when exposed to light. He failed, and he’s delighted he did. He got his pretty glass, sure enough, but its indifference to light ultimately led to a discovery that may help scientists better understand the curious world of nanomagnetism. The buzz of science and engineering these days, nanoscience—and its applied side, nanotechnology—is revolutionizing how researchers in chemistry, physics and biology approach their work. The field is focused C D O N W O O D The process produces glass that resembles ordinary glass— but with a key difference. Stiegman’s glass is shot through with tiny tunnels and caverns not much wider than a molecule. These nano-sized pores can allow small molecules of various compounds to penetrate the glass and react with any number of chemicals that the glass’ gel can be doped with. The resulting chemical reaction can do some neat things—from changing the glass’ color to making it fluoresce all its own. A few years back, Stiegman figured out how to make his glass using a compound made out of vanadium, a silvery-white, soft metal often used to make high-strength steel alloys. Using vanadium oxide, he soon found that he could turn the glass into various colors by exposing it to different chemicals. For example, in the presence of hydrogen sulfide (the SCIENTISTS’ CURIOSITY OVER THE BOUNDLESS WORLD OF NANOTECHNOLOGY. entirely on the atomic world, where size is indeed everything. Everything super-small, that is. The prefix “nano,” from the Greek, means “billionth.” Things within the “nano-world” are literally at least a billionth of a meter in diameter or overall length— and often far smaller. Stiegman’s newest “pretty glass” (he’s created several varieties) is a study in nanoscience with a surprising—if not yet fully understood—twist. So far, the substance is little more than a scientific curiosity, a happy accident—and that may be all it ever is. Any talk of the discovery opening a door to a snappy new high-tech product is wishful thinking, says Stiegman, an inorganic chemist at FSU. But the fact that this novel material exists at all intrigues more than a few—last summer the discovery drew the attention of the Chemical & Engineering News, a leading professional journal, which reported on Stiegman’s find. For years, Stiegman has experimented with making special, highly colorful glasses in his lab using what is called the “sol-gel” process. Basically, the technique is fairly simple: two or more compounds are mixed together, and a resulting liquid slowly gels to a Jello-like consistency that eventually hardens into a transparent solid. “rotten egg” odor of freshman chemistry courses) his glass would turn amber. Formaldehyde would turn it green. His glass thus had potential for being a rather dramatic detector for these and other pollutants. This time around, Stiegman wanted to put a compound in the glass so that it would change color when exposed to light, a A FIRST FOR science is a magnetically distinct glass made by FSU chemists. Al Stiegman, far right, examines a sample with Naresh Dalal, chair of the Department of Chemistry and Biochemistry. ▲ WINTER 2004 29 The Blues of Prussia Many scientific discoveries come about by accident–including the discovery of Prussian blue, the first of the class of compounds FSU chemist Albert Stiegman used to create a new kind of superparamagnetic nanoparticle. Around 1704, a German dye maker named Diesbach was mixing up a batch of red dye from potash and iron sulfate. But unknown to him, his supplier, a man named Dippel, had sold him potash that had been contaminated with animal oil. Instead of the red he expected, Diesbach wound up with a pale pink. When he tried to concentrate the dye to produce a deeper red, to his surprise he got a deep blue. Chemistry in that day was too primitive to explain what happened. Today we know that the potash (an alkali) reacted with the animal oil to produce potassium ferrocyanide, which in turn reacted with the iron sulfate to produce Prussian blue–the first of the modern artificial pigments. Even without knowing the chemistry, Prussian blue was easy and cheap to make, and took the art world by storm. Never before had artists had a stable, satisfactory blue pigment. The color quickly became popular throughout Europe. The compound proved to be very versatile. It found use in ink, paint, typewriter ribbons, carbon paper, blueprints and an early kind of photograph called a cyanotype. Prussian blue was even used to treat heavy-metal poisoning. Used as an antidote, the molecule grabbed metal atoms like a claw, allowing them to be flushed from the body. Eventually chemists found that other metal atoms could be substituted for one or both of the iron atoms in the original molecule, thus creating an entire class of compounds known collectively as Prussian blues. Stiegman created his superparamagnetic particles from a Prussian blue containing cobalt and iron. —D.W. 30 property called photochromism. The phenomenon already is evident in the marketplace, a common example being sunglasses that automatically darken when you step outside. Engineers also are interested in such materials as a way to store optical data in devices such as CDs, DVDs and computer memories. For this experiment, instead of vanadium Stiegman chose a dye from a venerable class of compounds known as Prussian blues (see box, left). These brilliant blue dyes are made up of molecules built from two metal ions tied together by a molecule of cyanide. In this case, Stiegman used a dye whose metal ions were cobalt and iron. Stiegman assigned graduate student Joshua Moore to work out a way to put the Prussian blue into the sol-gel glass. Moore soon realized his prof had thrown him a curveball. What he faced was no simple problem—Prussian blues are typically made by mixing together two reagents containing the right concentrations of metallic ions. The positive and negative ions immediately join together to form the desired molecule, which promptly “precipitates out”—as the chemists say—or clumps together and collects at the bottom of the container. So, if you mix the sol-gel components and the Prussian blue components together in the same vessel, the Prussian blue will be sitting benignly on the bottom while the sol-gel is still slowly hardening above—without any dye in it. “IT’S TRULY A NEAT APPLICATION WITH REAL Moore eventually solved the problem by diluting the amount of dye in his glass recipe. This allowed more control over the precipitation problem. Finally, he tinkered with this and other parameters until he hit what Stiegman called the “sweet spot”–just the right formula so that the Prussian blue particles were trapped by the hardening gel before they had a chance to fall out of solution. Delighted, Stiegman dubbed the process “arrested precipitation.” The result was a beautiful purple glass with some surprising properties. With help from FSU physicist Eric Lochner, a member of the university’s Center for Materials Research and Technology, Stiegman and Moore began testing the material’s optical properties. Alas, the hoped-for color change didn’t appear. As far as making a photochromic material was concerned, the experiment was a bust. One day, while Moore and Lochner were discussing these depressing results, Lochner suggested testing the material for magnetic properties. He knew that Prussian blue compounds were magnetic and thought something interesting might turn up. When Moore took the idea to Stiegman, his prof was skeptical. Stiegman thought there would be far too few particles too widely scattered in the glass to show any interesting magnetic behavior. Still, Moore wanted to pursue the idea and Stiegman didn’t want to squelch his enthusiasm. So, collaborating with Lochner, Florida State University Researchin Review they tested their glass for magnetic properties. What they found was astonishing. The Prussian blue particles trapped in the glass proved to be superparamagnetic–a phenomenon of considerable interest to scientists and engineers working in the field of nanotechnology. Superparamagnetism is a daunting word, but the concept isn’t too hard to understand—especially if you skip over the quantum mechanics. The phenomenon occurs when magnetic particles are made small enough—on the order of ten billionths of a meter. At that size, each particle acts like a tiny magnet, but thermal agitation–the random jiggling of molecules due to heat–prevents adjacent particles from lining up with each other. Instead, the particles are all randomly oriented and behave like lonely, magnetic islands with no common interaction. As a consequence, the material as a whole doesn’t act like a magnet at all. But applying an external magnetic field can force the particles to align so that the material temporarily becomes magnetic. As soon as you switch off the magnetic field, thermal agitation scrambles the particles again and you’re back where you started with a nonmagnetic material. The phenomenon is so efficient that researchers get excited over the prospects of using superparamagnetic devices as tiny magnetic switches to control a variety of electronic gadgets. The possibilities have helped generate excitement about ▲ ANOTHER CLASS of glass made in Stiegman’s lab is the xerogel, (above) coated with a variety of ultra-slick polymers. Made entirely of silica, the glasses have surfaces full of nano-sized holes. POTENTIAL IN THE DESIGN AND DEVELOPMENT OF MAGNETIC MATERIALS.” Stiegman’s discovery. (Lochner mentioned one novel idea–trapping both a superparamagnetic particle and a bit of a drug in a membrane, then using an external magnet to direct the drug to where you want it to go in the body.) Another interesting discovery about the Prussian dye-impregnated glass is that the amount of magnetism can be tuned using a combination of ammonia and light. Moore and Stiegman found that by shining light on the glass they could increase its magnetic strength, and doping it with ammonia changed its reaction to the light. The upshot was a clever means of tuning the glass’ magnetic properties. This property suggests the possibility of someday writing to a magnetic memory using a laser, then reading the data back with a magnet, said Stiegman. But he’s quick to put the finding into perspective. “This is a scientific discovery, and I’m not sure it’s an industrial discovery,” he said. “The novelty is in how it was made and the kind of particles that make it superparamagnetic.” The novelty of the method is the ease with which the nanosized particles are created, he said. Making these things is usually a difficult process involving many steps. In this case, the Prussian blue nanoparticles appear spontaneously as a result of the arrested precipitation in the sol-gel. Still, in the field of materials science, the finding is a first. In WINTER 2004 the C&EN article last August, Geoffrey F. Strouse, an inorganic chemist at U. California, Santa Barbara, lauded the discovery for its potential place in technology, noting the importance of having a magnetic substance that can be molded. “It’s truly a neat application with real potential in the design and development of magnetic materials,” said Strouse, who is scheduled to join FSU’s chemistry department later this year. “This could give rise to some fascinating magnetic structures that can literally be cast into a device, rather than having to be formed (via conventional) methods.” Stiegman’s lab, meanwhile, is extending the sol-gel process to create other kinds of entrapped nanoparticles (he’s already succeeded with a different Prussian blue) and using heat, light and chemical reactions to transform the particles into other substances of interest. As for the pretty glass that changes color when exposed to light–for now, that project sits on the shelf. “My original idea didn’t amount to anything,” Stiegman said. “We set out to do one thing and wound up doing something else. “But the something else was even better than the thing we were trying to do, so I’m not complaining. I believe in serendipity.” RR 31 32 Florida State University Researchin Review The Why of It All PHOTO: RAY STANYARD by Robert Pool By their own hands, more than 30,000 Americans die every year. Each death commonly leaves a wake of grief and empty guesses. WINTER 2004 It’s the question that haunts almost everybody who has lost a loved one to suicide: Why? Why leave this world and everything in it, knowing you’re never coming back? Why say a permanent goodbye to everyone who loves you? Why choose death over life? Why? The question hits Thomas Joiner on two levels—where he lives and where he works. As FSU’s Bright-Burton Professor of Psychology, Joiner has made the study of suicide his career. He also lost his own father to suicide 14 years ago. He reconciled his loss years ago, but his academic interest in mood disorders in grad school at the Univesity of Texas-Austin gradually brought him face-to-face with the essential enigma of suicide—the ‘why’ question. Soon, Joiner set his sights on understanding why anyone would kill himself or herself. The quest has produced some remarkable insights into the question of whether it’s possible to predict which people are most at risk for suicide. And, of course, why they are. 33 Frankly, Joiner has built a reputation for himself as an expert in a subject that most people would prefer not to think about. His resumé is packed with honors and awards, such as the Shneidman Award for Excellence in Suicide Research, awarded by the American Association for Suicidology (yes, there is such a thing), and he is regularly asked by journalists and lawyers for his opinions on suicide-related issues. In late September, for instance, city officials in St. Petersburg, Florida, called on Joiner when the city was trying to block the rock group Hell on Earth from holding a concert in which a terminally ill person planned to kill himself on stage to publicize the need for physician-assisted suicide. Joiner suggested that the event might lead to copycat suicides and, furthermore, that the prearranged nature of the act might push the terminally ill patient to go through with the suicide despite lastminute reservations. Many people who plan suicide back away at the last minute, Joiner noted. The city won the case, and a judge issued an injunction barring the group from holding the concert. Later, when the band announced it would hold the concert and suicide at a secret location and broadcast them over the band’s Web site, the judge barred that as well. But the suicide work that Joiner believes will be his most important contribution is a theory that explains suicide far better than anything proposed before. The acid test for any theor y of suicide is whether it can specify why some troubled people kill themselves while others with very similar problems never even try, and Joiner believes he can do just this. If he is correct, psychologists should be able to use this new understanding to more accurately pick out those at risk of suicide and intervene before they can hurt themselves. It was 1990 when Joiner’s father killed himself. At the time, Joiner was a graduate student in psychology in Texas. “It was very tough,” he acknowledges, adding, “but I don’t believe that it was the main source of my interest in suicide.” 34 Instead, he says, the questions raised by his father’s suicide dovetailed well with the sorts of questions he had already been asking himself in his psychology studies. “I started off trying to explain social and relationship problems in people with mood disorders, and a lot of mood-disordered people have suicidal ideas that are triggered interpersonally, for instance, by rejection or by loneliness. So it was a natural evolution of interest to begin studying suicide.” When Joiner turned his attention to the question of why people kill themselves, he found it to be a field that had been largely overlooked by mainstream psychology. “This field is underdeveloped, underfunded, younger and less mature than even something like the study of mood disorders.” Amazingly enough, even though more than 30,000 Americans kill themselves each year, relatively few psychologists have studied the topic directly, he said. Joiner sees one reason for this neglect being that psychologists have traditionally seen suicide as part of a larger problem— depression and other mood disorders. But even if psychologists understood mood disorders—which they don’t, says Joiner— Amazingly enough, even though more than 30,000 Americans kill themselves each year, relatively few psychologists have studied the topic directly. that would not mean they understood suicide. Millions of people suffer from mood disorders, and only a small percentage of those kill themselves, Joiner said. Furthermore, some of those who commit suicide are not suffering from any mood disorder. A second reason that suicide has gotten relatively little attention from psychologists, Joiner suggests, is the stigma and fear associated with it. “Rational people get irrational when they talk about things like this,” he says, and even psychologists may find themselves unconsciously avoiding the subject of suicide. Over the past decade or so, however, this neglect has begun to fade. A growing number of psychologists have begun turning their attention to the question of why people kill themselves, bringing to bear a whole new suite of cutting-edge tools, including techniques from molecular biology and genetics, sociology, anthropology, even economics. They have brought new insights and new energy to what had been a very quiet, slow-moving area of psychology. Joiner is one of these young guns. Traditionally, Joiner explains, there have been two major schools of thought on suicide. One follows the teachings of Edwin Shneidman, a prominent “thanatologist,” or suicide researcher, at UCLA, and the man for whom the award that Joiner received was named. “Shneidman writes that suicide is the result of intractable emotional pain,” Joiner says. This pain, which Shneidman calls “psychache,” gets so bad that a person prefers death over life. Shneidman further claims that most people who commit suicide can be put into one of five groups characterized by different needs, such as the need to be loved, the need to belong, and the need to strike first. By contrast, another well-known suicide researcher—psychologist Aaron Beck of the University of Pennsylvania—and his followers have focused on hopelessness. Known as the “grandfather of cognitive therapy,” Beck, now an emeritus professor at Penn’s med school, believes that the most important thing in explaining suicide is to understand the mental states that lead people to simply give up. Joiner grants that both these schools of thought have a piece of the truth, but he believes that they’re both missing something. “Lots of people who are in incredible pain or who are very hopeless never try suicide,” he notes. “Also there are people Florida State University Researchin Review SUICIDE CLUSTERS AT NEW YORK UNIVERSITY LAST FALL, the semester began on a tragic note with the death of three students within a four-week period. All three deaths were suspected of being suicide. If the students indeed died by their own hand (all died from falls from atop campus buildings), it wouldn’t surprise an FSU suicide expert. Last fall, psychologist Thomas Joiner published findings on a study of the phenomenon of suicide “clusters”—episodes of multiple suicides by people whose close friends or a mutually admired individual killed themselves. But the study, published in the Journal of Adolescence, challenges the idea that imitation plays the biggest role in suicide clusters. “Suicides do appear to cluster, leading to the impression that they are ‘contagious’ or that imitation may play a role,” says Joiner. “But it may not happen that way. It could be the result of vulnerable people who, having sought each other out, are reacting to the same general social environment.” Joiner studied 138 pairs of college roommates and found that those who chose to live together were more similar on a suicide index than roommates who were randomly assigned together by housing authorities. Stress in the roommate relationship increased the similarity in roommates’ suicide levels, he found. “Vulnerable people are not randomly distributed in the population, but rather (they) may be more likely to form relationships,” he ters, which then may be activated by any number of severe stress factors that affect the members of the cluster.” Some people also may become simultaneously suicidal after a shared event that may PHOTO: RAY STANYARD said. “This process prearranges suicide clus- THOMAS JOINER have nothing to do with them personally. Researchers are no longer surprised when suicide increases after the death of celebrities, for example. — (based on an article prepared by The FSU Media Relations Office.) WINTER 2004 35 Joiner said that a person who does not son might start, for instance, with a shalwho kill themselves without a lot of pain or hopelessness, so it seems that there is a possess all three of these characteristics is low cut on an arm, then later a deeper cut, lot more to it. I’ve taken a shot at what I unlikely to commit suicide, no matter how and still later perhaps a drug overdose, depressed or hopeless he or she feels. On until the survival instinct can be ignored think is a full explanation,” he says. That shot begins with what Joiner be- the other hand, people who are in great enough to inflict fatal damage. lieves is a fundamental fact about suicide that emotional pain, who feel hopeless about But not everyone who commits suithe future, and who do have these three cide has to work up to it. most people overlook or misunderstand. “Most of the work on suicide that has characteristics are at a very high risk for “About 40 percent of all deaths by suibeen done to date assumes a weakness of suicide. cide are first attempts,” Joiner says. “These The first characteristic is the most de- people must habituate by other means.” will or of character on the part of the person committing suicide,” he says. “But ceptive, Joiner said, even though at first Victims find various ways to do that. suicide is actually about a kind of glance it seems obvious. After all, if some“Any set of behaviors where you get one commits suicide then he or she must hurt a lot can lead people to habituate,” strength.” Self-preservation is a basic human in- certainly have had the ability to inflict se- Joiner says. This includes drug abuse and stinct, Joiner points out. People try very rious self-harm. But that is seeing the is- “any lifestyle that regularly leads to serihard to avoid things that will harm them sue with the value of hindsight. It gets ous injury.” or cause pain. The thought of, say, cutting much trickier to look at it prospectively. A professional racecar driver, for inor asphyxiating oneself is very upsetting Which potentially suicidal people actually stance, goes to work knowing that on any and difficult to contemplate for given day he could end up critimost people. And that, Joiner cally injured or even dead. Alsays, is precisely why relatively few though the driver is not seekFLORIDA’S PAIN people commit suicide out of all ing to hurt himself, driving a car In 2002, more than 2,300 Floridians were reported as dyof those who think about it. into a turn at top speeds deing by suicide. Tragically, this number ranks Florida sec“There’s actually a large mands that one ignore the selfond in the highest number of suicides reported nationnumber of people who express a preservation instinct to a certain ally, according to the Florida Suicide Prevention Coalition, desire for death—about 85 perdegree. a nonprofit statewide suicide prevention organization. cent of mood-disordered people That is not to say that The problem is being countered by this and other experience substantial suicidal racecar drivers are more suicidal state and private help groups. An excellent online reideas, for instance—yet very few than anyone else. Many people, source for information on coping and preventive strateof them will do anything to hurt Joiner explains, develop the cagies, emergency help and counseling is maintained by themselves and even fewer will do pacity to hurt themselves withthe Florida Office of Drug Control at http:// anything that causes truly serious out actually having any desire w w w. my f l o r i d a . c o m / my f l o r i d a / g ov e r n m e n t / damage. to. But a racecar driver would governorinitiatives/drugcontrol/suicide_prev.html. “People who actually kill be more able to act on suicidal —Editor themselves,” he says, “have (obthoughts than someone who viously) managed to beat down had never gotten inured to the the survival instinct and the fear idea of self-injury. have the ability to kill themselves, and how of pain and suffering.” Another way to habituate oneself to With this in mind, Joiner has proposed can anyone tell ahead of time? pain and injury, Joiner believes, is to see The answer, Joiner says, is that some those things in other people. Physicians, that people who kill themselves are marked by three characteristics that distinguish people over time develop the ability to sup- for example, regularly see people with serithem from people who might wish to be press their survival instinct—to hurt them- ous injuries and who are in great pain, and selves- and they do it in certain characteris- this, Joiner says, makes them more capable dead but never actually commit suicide: • The ability to hurt themselves—and, in tic ways. In essence, they must habituate of injuring themselves. This explains, Joiner particular, to hurt themselves enough and themselves to pain and to the idea of injury. claims, why physicians have a higher suiSome do it via failed suicide attempts. cide rate than the general population. Male in such a way that it is fatal; • A sense that one is a burden on one’s A large number of people who kill them- physicians have suicide rates that are 1.5 to selves have had previous suicide attempts 3 times as high as men in general, and loved ones, and; • A lack of any sense of belonging to a that didn’t work, and typically the attempts women physicians kill themselves 3 to 5 group or a relationship that has some value. build in severity with each new try. A per- times as often as women in general. The 36 Florida State University Researchin Review BREAST IMPLANTS & SUICIDE THOMAS JOINER HAS STUDIED SUICIDE from a wide variety of angles, but perhaps none is as curious as his look at the connection between suicide and breast implants. Over the past several years, at least three groups of researchers have reported studies that found women who received breast implants to be more likely to commit suicide—up to about three times as likely as women in the general population. One suggested explanation was that women who were desperately unhappy with their body image would get the implants and then, when they found that the implants didn’t make them feel better about themselves, decide there was nothing further that might make life worth living. After a careful study of the data from these studies however, Joiner came to a different conclusion. He found that not only were the women who received implants not at greater risk, but they were actually somewhat less likely to commit suicide than might be expected by other factors. In other words, apparently the implants were somehow partially protecting them from suicide. What the other researchers had missed, Joiner explains, is that women who get breast implants are different, statistically speaking, from average women. They tend to be white and in the 25-to-44-year-old age group, for instance, and they are more likely to be divorced and to smoke than are women in the general population. Furthermore, other studies of suicide have found that all these factors make women more likely to commit suicide than women in general. “It turns out that, based on currently available data,” Joiner says, “the expected rate of suicide in breast augmentation patients should exceed the rate of women in the general population by four-fold, but the actual suicide rate among these patients is lower than expected. Therefore, the possibility arises that breast augmentation actually confers protection from suicide, presumably by increasing self-esteem and bodyimage satisfaction.” Joiner is quick to say that his findings are hardly an endorsement for implants which some womens’ groups condemn as being dangerous to womens’ health in general. On that issue, he defers to medical specialists, he said. “I’m confident only in that breast implants don’t cause suicide, as a cursory look at the evidence may suggest,” he said. This is certainly not the last word on the subject, but for now Joiner’s analysis indicates that women who are not happy with their breast size can do something about it without worrying that the decision could be a real killer. —R.P. WINTER 2004 effect is greater for women, Joiner suspects, because women in the general population are less likely than men in the general population to be in jobs or to have hobbies that habituate them to pain and injury. Joiner’s theory predicts a number of facts about suicide, such as the higher suicide rate among physicians, but it was designed to explain these details. The true test will be whether the theory predicts things about suicide that doctors and researchers had not already noticed, and that is what Joiner is testing now. The theory predicts, for instance, that people who feel themselves to be a burden on their family would be more serious about committing suicide. They would employ more lethal means in their attempts, and they would be more likely to be fatal. To test this, Joiner and FSU colleagues looked at 40 suicide notes, half written by people who did indeed kill themselves and half written by those who attempted suicide but failed. Those whose notes indicated a strong sense of “my loved ones will be better off when I’m gone” were indeed significantly more likely to succeed in their attempts and also more likely to choose a more lethal approach—gunshot and hanging, for instance, versus cuts or a drug overdose. On the other hand, Joiner found no relationship between the hopelessness a person expressed in the suicide letter and the lethality of the suicide attempt. In short, the sense of being a burden appears to have been a more important factor in the suicide than a feeling of hopelessness. A great deal of work remains to be done to test Joiner’s theory and to extend and refine it, but if it holds up as Joiner believes it will, it offers great hope to those in the fight against suicide. “Tomorrow there are eighty families in the United States alone who will lose someone to suicide,” Joiner says. He dreams of helping bring that number down so that fewer of us will be left in the pain of wondering why a loved one chose death over life. RR 37 THE BEST OF A M E R I C A’ S MUSIC HIGH-ART RUMBLES, HISSES, TRILLS AND CLANKS IN TUNE WITH THE NATION’S UNIQUE LANDMARKS. SOUND of P L A C B Y 38 A N D Y L I N D S T R O M Florida State University Researchin Review PHOTO: RAY STANYARD DENISE VON GLAHN S E WINTER 2004 THE THUNDERING ROAR OF NIAGARA FALLS AS IT CASCADES, FOAM-FLECKED AND FRIGHTENING, INTO SHARDS OF MIST… THE HIGH-RIDING SUN PAINTING A KALEIDOSCOPE OF EARTH TONES ON THE CRAGGY PINNACLES OF ARIZONA’S MONUMENTAL GRAND CANYON… A STACCATO OF STREET NOISE REVERBERATING THROUGH THE GLASS-AND-STEEL MAW OF UPTOWN MANHATTAN… From the flinty hills of Kentucky to the funky streets of Harlem, America’s distinctive places have inspired generations of writers and painters in their efforts to capture our ever-changing national character. Now comes an FSU music historian to describe how this country’s high-art composers found a similar muse of place to inspire many of their best known works. Denise Von Glahn, an assistant professor of music history in the School of Music, says in her recent book (The Sounds of Place: Music and the American 39 ▲ Cultural Landscape. Northeastern University Press, 2003) that key composers through the last two centuries responded to inspiring natural and man-made places in what she calls their “place pieces.” Whether they’re penning tone poems to celebrate the pristine grandeur of a national landmark or putting to music a modern city’s singular sounds, the composers Von Glahn chose to include in her study created works that say as much about our nation’s shared values as it does the music itself. “This (book) is for people interested in American culture, in American music history, in what’s being called cultural geography,” Von Glahn said in a recent interview. Negotiating its 350 pages—including footnotes, bibliography and musical examples—calls for a certain amount of familiarity in those fields, she concedes. “But I was hoping that the book could be appreciated by people without a specialist’s background, too.” THE POWER OF PLACE— how one’s environment shapes creativity in American musical composition—is the theme of FSU music historian Denise Von Glahn’s new book, The Sounds of Place (Northeastern University Press, 2003). To make her point about place, Von Glahn enlists works by 14 American composers ranging from the early 19th-century symphonist Anthony Philip Heinrich (“the Beethoven of America,” as one music critic called him) to the modernist Edgard Varese, as well as contemporary composers Steve Reich and FSU’s own Ellen Taaffe Zwilich. Ferde Grofe’s Grand Canyon Suite has become an American icon in its own right, as have Aaron Copland’s ballets and Duke Ellington’s jazz classics. Others such as William Henry Fry, George Frederick Bristow, Roy Harris, William Grant Still, Robert Starer and Dana Paul Perna, while perhaps not as familiar to the general public, contributed their musical postcards of America as a special and distinctive place inevitably morphing from an Eden-like frontier of seemingly endless natural beauty to a world-class urbanized nation. “I wanted to show the changing sense of what distinguishes America, both to the CONNECTICUT’S H O U S AT O N I C V A L L E Y CHARLES IVES (1874-1954) 40 Florida State University Researchin Review Putting America in its Place FSU music historian Denise Von Zwilich began her career as a tunes familiar to a large major- the nation’s most treasured Glahn’s new book captures the violinist and trumpeter. After ity of his contemporary audi- myths. In a composing career spirit of 14 key American com- playing violin under Leopold ence–American folk and popular that spanned a full half-century, posers who were inspired by Stokowski in the American Sym- tunes, revival hymns, parlor he wrote in almost every genre iconic places. Here are some ex- phony Orchestra, she turned to songs, jazz, military marches–he and style. amples: composition full-time. In 1983, created a complex web of musi- she became the first woman to cal and programmatic relation- Steve Reich, 1936—. Originally Duke Ellington (Edward Kenne- win the Pulitzer Prize for com- ships that supported the larger trained as a percussionist, dy), 1899-1974. Composer, pia- position with her Symphony No. idea he was seeking to commu- Reich has studied philosophy, nist, bandleader and seminal fig- 1. She has since been the recipi- nicate. For years portrayed as an composition, poetry and both ure in the American jazz scene. ent of almost every award avail- idiosyncratic iconoclast, Ives Balinese and African music. Ellington came into the public able to musicians. In 1999, the more recently is hailed for his Since his first recorded speech spotlight in the 1920s with his same year Zwilich composed advanced and innovative works. piece, It’s Gonna Rain, and work at various Harlem clubs, es- Symphony No. 4 (“The Gar- His Symphony No. 3 won the through his “phase” and coun- pecially the Kentucky Club dens”), Musical America named Pulitzer Prize in 1947. terpoint pieces, Reich has tried (1923-27) and Cotton Club (1927- her composer of the year. In 32). Early on, he composed and 2000, FSU named her a Francis Aaron Copland , 1900-1990. of American speech that he first arranged pieces to suit the tal- Eppes Professor. Brooklyn-born Copland has heard in the poetry of William been called the dean of Ameri- Carlos Williams, along with the ents of particular band members, to capture the melodic qualities then began lengthening his Charles Ives, 1874-1954. Widely can composers, in part because small rhythmic patterns that he works until by the 1940s they considered the first and most of his ubiquitous presence in so uses to set in motion complex were comfortably suited for the important indigenous American many aspects of 20th-century processes of musical unfolding. concert hall. Along with arranger composer, Ives’ reputation rests music making, but also because A leading spokesperson for the and composer Billy Strayhorn, on a body of work that includes of his nurturing support of other current cultural scene, Reich he recorded hundreds of pieces symphonies, string quartets, or- American composers. After early has produced a large and var- that have become staples in the chestral sets, chamber and cho- training in New York and France, ied body of works that resists jazz repertoire. ral works, as well as a body of Copland set out to create an categorization. In the dawn of solo songs that compares favor- American musical culture. Best the 21st century, he continues to Ellen Taaffe Zwilich, 1939—. Born ably with the leading 19th-cen- remembered for his ballets Billy explore ways that music can in Miami and educated at Florida tury European art-song compos- the Kid, Appalachian Spring and speak with pieces that challenge State University and Juilliard, ers. Building his pieces around Rodeo, he set to music some of our sense of what music is. world and to itself,” Von Glahn said of her choices. “And, for me, it all started with Charles Ives.” Variously described as a noisemaker, a musical iconoclast, a composer marching to his own beat, most recently critics have called Ives “the father of modern American music.” Ives converted a pastiche of familiar American tunes into tradition- WINTER 2004 shattering music that championed both his nation and its culture, Von Glahn said. “He is a national figure who wears his ‘Made in the U.S.A.’ label proudly.” Bridging the late 19th-century chasm between Victorian righteousness and modern relativism, Ives stood firmly in both camps as a successful insurance executive by day while composing what one reviewer called “exceptionally inventive” place pieces and other musical works in his after hours. Von Glahn grew up in New York City, but her family spent several of her early childhood years vacationing in the area of Connecticut where Ives had lived. While researching her doctoral dissertation on Ives’ work, she decided to visit 41 his hometown of Danbury, Conn., where she was overcome by the familiarity she felt driving through the countryside. “Without any recollection of having been here before, I thought, my God, this is one of those spooky moments when you think you’ve been somewhere before when you really haven’t but it’s all familiar to you, ” she said. “I recognized a particular white frame house that I passed, and a rock wall that hugged the road. I knew that view of the Housatonic River. It was comforting, exhilarating and unnerving.” Several weeks later, Von Glahn recounted what she called “the strange experience” to her father, who told her it wasn’t strange at all. “He said I had been there during the summers when I was a child,” she recalled. “I stayed in a boarding house that was owned by a relative, and I swam in that very river. And I thought, that place had unknowingly imprinted itself on my very young child’s memory. Here was Ives writing about these places in New England, and he was a New Englander and had lived there all his life. How much more important they must have been to him than they were to me.” At the time, Von Glahn’s focus was on what she saw as Ives’ undeserved reputation as an isolated, unique figure in our national culture. Upon further reflection, she realized that Ives wasn’t really alone. In fact, his music fit into a larger framework of American high-art music and culture as they grew from their early dependency on European models to something more distinctly American, and from an obsession with natural icons to reaching for the rhythms and sites and sounds of modern city life. As the nation changed, she found, American artists including composers responded accordingly. Limiting her study to what she called “instrumental music of the high-art tradition,” Von Glahn included only works by composers who exhibited a strong invest- ELLEN ZWILLICH (1939-) T H E M I C H I G A N S TAT E UNIVERSITY BEAL GARDENS 42 Florida State University Researchin Review NEW YORK CITY AARON COPELAND ( 1 9 0 0 - 1 9 9 0 ) ment in specific environments that inspired them. Several chose Niagara Falls, for instance. But their approach varied greatly depending on the time when they were writing and the composer’s particular agenda. As the first important American icon, the falls were a favorite subject for 19thcentury Hudson River School painters eager to broadcast what was unique about this country. “These idyllic scenes where it looked like the Garden of Eden were unlike anything people knew of anywhere else,” Von Glahn said. “It also dawned on me that at the same time these paintings were being created there was an early 19th-century composer, Anthony Philip Heinrich, who had written a piece entitled The War of the Elements and the Thundering of Niagara. It struck me that it wasn’t just the visual artists who were commandeering the important natural icons. Here was a composer doing the same thing.” WINTER 2004 Digging deeper, she found two other symphonies written within 50 years—one by William Frye and another by George Bristow—that also had Niagara in the title. In his work written at the end of the century, Bristow suggested religious connotations that others had imposed upon the falls earlier, Von Glahn said. “This is not whimsy, not just caprice. They were using that icon for very important, very specific reasons. It changed for each one of these composers, but in every case they felt that by using Niagara in the title they could suggest something unique about the country.” By 1960, Von Glahn said, the image of the falls had changed radically. In his Niagara Falls Suite, Ferde Grofé no longer saw the falls as sacred or sublime. Instead, for him this famous American landmark had become a giant outdoor generator of electricity for an industrialized nation’s insatiable need for power. “Now it’s no longer the icon of America, an object so fearsome and enormous that people couldn’t get their minds around it,” she said. “It’s Niagara the hydroelectric power plant. And you get that in Grofe’s music.” In a similar vein, Von Glahn sketches out a transition in the identity of place among succeeding generations of American composers from celebrations of woods, waterfalls and wilderness to urban settings and their human inhabitants. Particularly since Charles Ives–whose piece From Hanover Square North, at the End of a Tragic Day, the Voice of the People Again Arose is based on the dismayed yet religiously comforted reactions of New York City “L” commuters after hearing of the sinking of the Lusitania in 1915— people have become essential players in the cultural landscape. Duke Ellington’s Harlem Air Shaft is inspired by the sounds and smells of a big- 43 city apartment complex. Aaron Copland’s Quiet City uses the haunting notes of English horns, trumpets and strings to underscore the isolation and personal longing that often accompany urban living. Steve Reich carries the theme the farthest in City Life and New York Counterpoint, snapshots of millennial America built around the speech rhythms and cadences of urban residents. Reich’s music was influenced by everything from Bach, Stravinsky and Debussy to Balinese gamelan, African drumming and jazz, but it is wholly American. Zwilich’s place piece–Symphony No. 4 (The Gardens)—written in 1999 to honor Michigan State University’s botanical gardens—fits right in with Reich’s work as undeniably American, if unconsciously so, Von Glahn said. Inspired by the gardens’ exhibit of threatened and endangered plant species, it also reflects how we as a people have come to understand the need to pre- serve and protect our natural places rather than simply stand in awe or exploit them. And how does one judge these American composers of place? Is there any kind of musical yardstick that applies to their work? Do some deserve our ear more than others? “Judgments? I’m not interested necessarily in the abstract quality of a work except that I wouldn’t have written about schlock. The music would not have been complex and rich enough to be rewarding.” Von Glahn does admit to what she called “my natural inclination toward 20th century music and art.” Even as a teenager working in a library, she was drawn to volumes devoted to modern art. She pored over books filled with the paintings of Wassily Kandinsky, Joan Miro and Jackson Pollack. “Where things were most ambiguous and open to interpretation,” she said. “And somehow, it spoke to me. I loved it.” Just as she loved at first hearing the work of Charles Ives. His music vibrates with meaning, she said, her eyes widening at the memory. “It spoke to me. It turns out it doesn’t necessarily speak to a lot of people instinctively.” Even so, Von Glahn notes that she has waiting lists for her classes in 20th-century music. And more thesis and dissertation students interested in 20th-century topics than she can handle. “I think it’s a matter of many people having never heard this music,” she said. “ They don’t know what to do with it. Just listen without judgment.” But fire engines, sirens in a symphony? Dance-hall tunes? Sleigh bells, a lion’s roar? None is particularly weird, she observed. “The whole world of sounds is out there. We hear those sounds, and we live among them. They are all part of our environment, and they locate us. They give us a sense of place. And that, to me, is fascinating.”RR G R A N D F E R D E 44 C A N Y O N G R O F E (1892-1972) Florida State University Researchin Review Portrait PHOTO: RAY STANYARD SPOTLIGHT ON FLORIDA STATE UNIVERSITY FACULTY p A S S I S TA N T P R O F E S S O R O F N E U R O S C I E N C E D E B R A A N N FA D O O L Plato’s allegory of the cave observed that humans experience the world through their external senses. And neuroscientist Debra Fadool thinks a close reexamination of the sense of smell will reveal more effective ways to fight diseases.␣ ␣ Fadool, an assistant professor of biology and neuroscience, studies how aromas are processed into the electrical signals that make up the language of the brain. She manipulates molecules from the olfactory bulb, the region of the brain responsible for generating the sense of smell. Fadool studies how these molecules alter electrical signaling with the hope of understanding how nerve cells communicate. That information could provide clues to improper electrical signaling during the onset of certain diseases, she says. By directly stimulating a cell with electricity, Fadool is able to focus on changes in what are called ion channels—tiny tunnels embedded in the walls of cell membranes.␣ These structures regulate the amounts of charged particles of sodium, chlorine, calcium or potassium that get passed into and out of cells.␣ Changes in these channels’ structure can alter brain function, and scientists such as Fadool suspect that the mechanisms that drive the behavior of ion channels may offer clues to the origins of such diseases as cancer and diabetes. Fadool’s experiments are short and require her to quickly adapt when the unexpected occurs.␣ ␣ “It’s like working with a live recording of the electrical pattern that flows throughout the brain,” she said. “You have to think on your feet because once you attach an electrode to a cell it lives for 30 minutes, at most.” RR DEBRA ANN FADOOL, assistant professor in the Program in Neuroscience, was recently honored with the first Merck/WIN Young Investigator Award from the Society for Neuroscience. A Kentucky native, Fadool holds a doctorate from the University of Florida’s Whitney Laboratory. WINTER 2004 45