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Wade Davis & John Houston reviewed
John Houston's second volume of autobiography, Zigzag: A Life On The Move (M&S $29.99), begins as he leaves the Arctic to start a new life as a designer for Steuben Glass in New York. He has just spent 14 years working closely with the Inuit of the Arctic. [Houston is credited with discovering Inuit were producing great art and single-handedly creating a market for it. He also encouraged Inuit to adapt their work for North American buyers.] As he leaves Baffin Island, he receives two gifts from the Inuit: a carving of a walrus and a paperbag containing $33. "You're going away, everyone says, to try and make more money,"; they explain. "If at first you don't have money in that foreign place, we thought to give some to you.";
The original purpose of Eskimo carvings was to bring luck and protection on hunting expeditions. Houston needs both luck and protection as he leaves a culture unconcerned with monetary gain (the market value of the walrus is $11,000) for one in which it is the be-all and end-all. In Manhattan in the 1960s, Houston at first has trouble adapting to the tyranny of clocks and schedules. Soon he becomes acclimatized and delights in the theatres, art shows, lavish parties and holidays on yachts where kings and presidents and Nelson Rockefeller casually drop by.
Houston becomes a successful glass-designer, makes a fortune, teaches art in Harlem, becomes a successful writer, designs National Geographic's centenary cover and even marries happily. It is, however, the Arctic which inspires and nurtures Houston. "I am thrilled by the frosted, Arctic-like appearance of deep engravings on glass,"; he says. When the Glenbow Museum in Calgary asks him to design a sculpture, he creates his Aurora Borealis which is four storeys high. It is inspired by his memory of the spectacular ever-changing display of the Northern Lights. Either the protective qualities of the walrus carving or his years with the Inuit prevent him from succumbing completely to the glitzy life. He never confuses technological advances with civilization, nor economic gain with success. The final pages of the book describe his life in a cabin on another island, one of the Queen Charlottes now known as the Haida Gwaii, where he now lives part of every year.
There is nothing understated or implicit about Wade Davis' contrast between his two world views in The Clouded Leopard: Travels To Landscapes Of Spirit And Desire (D&M $29.95). As a B.C.-born ethnobiologist who divides his time between Vancouver and Washington D.C., Davis makes impassioned pleas for ethnic, cultural and biological diversity and issues grim warnings about imminent ecological catastrophe. In separate travel essays Davis describes the devastation wrought in the rain forests of the Amazon and, closer to home, on the Haida Gwaii.
For all the dark prognostications, Davis' book is neither negative nor gloomy. He balances descriptions of destructive activity with accounts that are positive and affirmative in settings such as Baffin Island, Haiti, Tibet, North Africa and Borneo. These include sensuous evocations of the grandeur of the natural world, the heroic efforts of people dedicated to preserving dying species, and the fascinating qualities of such rare specimens as the clouded leopard or the Bufo Marinus. The latter is the world's largest toad, a highly toxic amphibian which mates with dead females.
There are many points at which the paths of Houston and Davis criss-cross and converge. Sometimes those points are territorial, as in their shared experiences of the Arctic and the Haida Gwaii. Sometimes they are philosophical and temperamental. Both Houston, the master designer, and Davis, the scientist, bring the artistry of poetry to their writing and both become involved in filmmaking projects. Wade Davis describes his visits to the sets of two films, The Sheltering Sky (1990) and Passion In The Desert (1998). The latter portrays a leopard as an important character-not Disneyfied and sentimentalized. Houston also becomes involved in film through movies based on his own books. His experiences on the set provide further contrasts between cultures. One scene in The White Dawn (based on his 1971 bestseller) has to be shot several times because it is constantly interrupted by cries of "Bad! Bad to kill that boy!"; from extras unfamiliar with the conventions of the theatrical medium. On another occasion one of the actors, unable to understand the demands of the tight schedule, goes home for some good hunting and a decent meal. Houston's contribution to the musical score of a NFB film is to orchestrate the recording of the sound of candle ice. The long, icy, candle-like shapes are created by water running down through the ice. When a soft breeze blows, the water opens near them and the candles of ice collapse sideways into the water. "Striking together they create the most beautiful sound in the world.";
The technology of film may seem far removed from the love of nature. But these writers' shared appreciation of the modern medium illustrates something fundamental. They are less concerned with conflict between different ways of life than with finding common ground so that they can work together for mutual benefit. "Perhaps the greatest legacy of indigenous peoples will be their contribution to the dialogue between two world views,"; says Davis. One of those views sees human fate as inextricably connected to that of the whole natural universe, past, present and future. The other sees human beings standing apart, blind to the lessons of the past or the needs of the future, and devastating- for short term gain-forests, waterways and ultimately the whole world. Leopard 1-55054-632-5; Zigzag 0-7710-4208-6 --review by Joan Givner.
[BCBW WINTER 1998]
The original purpose of Eskimo carvings was to bring luck and protection on hunting expeditions. Houston needs both luck and protection as he leaves a culture unconcerned with monetary gain (the market value of the walrus is $11,000) for one in which it is the be-all and end-all. In Manhattan in the 1960s, Houston at first has trouble adapting to the tyranny of clocks and schedules. Soon he becomes acclimatized and delights in the theatres, art shows, lavish parties and holidays on yachts where kings and presidents and Nelson Rockefeller casually drop by.
Houston becomes a successful glass-designer, makes a fortune, teaches art in Harlem, becomes a successful writer, designs National Geographic's centenary cover and even marries happily. It is, however, the Arctic which inspires and nurtures Houston. "I am thrilled by the frosted, Arctic-like appearance of deep engravings on glass,"; he says. When the Glenbow Museum in Calgary asks him to design a sculpture, he creates his Aurora Borealis which is four storeys high. It is inspired by his memory of the spectacular ever-changing display of the Northern Lights. Either the protective qualities of the walrus carving or his years with the Inuit prevent him from succumbing completely to the glitzy life. He never confuses technological advances with civilization, nor economic gain with success. The final pages of the book describe his life in a cabin on another island, one of the Queen Charlottes now known as the Haida Gwaii, where he now lives part of every year.
There is nothing understated or implicit about Wade Davis' contrast between his two world views in The Clouded Leopard: Travels To Landscapes Of Spirit And Desire (D&M $29.95). As a B.C.-born ethnobiologist who divides his time between Vancouver and Washington D.C., Davis makes impassioned pleas for ethnic, cultural and biological diversity and issues grim warnings about imminent ecological catastrophe. In separate travel essays Davis describes the devastation wrought in the rain forests of the Amazon and, closer to home, on the Haida Gwaii.
For all the dark prognostications, Davis' book is neither negative nor gloomy. He balances descriptions of destructive activity with accounts that are positive and affirmative in settings such as Baffin Island, Haiti, Tibet, North Africa and Borneo. These include sensuous evocations of the grandeur of the natural world, the heroic efforts of people dedicated to preserving dying species, and the fascinating qualities of such rare specimens as the clouded leopard or the Bufo Marinus. The latter is the world's largest toad, a highly toxic amphibian which mates with dead females.
There are many points at which the paths of Houston and Davis criss-cross and converge. Sometimes those points are territorial, as in their shared experiences of the Arctic and the Haida Gwaii. Sometimes they are philosophical and temperamental. Both Houston, the master designer, and Davis, the scientist, bring the artistry of poetry to their writing and both become involved in filmmaking projects. Wade Davis describes his visits to the sets of two films, The Sheltering Sky (1990) and Passion In The Desert (1998). The latter portrays a leopard as an important character-not Disneyfied and sentimentalized. Houston also becomes involved in film through movies based on his own books. His experiences on the set provide further contrasts between cultures. One scene in The White Dawn (based on his 1971 bestseller) has to be shot several times because it is constantly interrupted by cries of "Bad! Bad to kill that boy!"; from extras unfamiliar with the conventions of the theatrical medium. On another occasion one of the actors, unable to understand the demands of the tight schedule, goes home for some good hunting and a decent meal. Houston's contribution to the musical score of a NFB film is to orchestrate the recording of the sound of candle ice. The long, icy, candle-like shapes are created by water running down through the ice. When a soft breeze blows, the water opens near them and the candles of ice collapse sideways into the water. "Striking together they create the most beautiful sound in the world.";
The technology of film may seem far removed from the love of nature. But these writers' shared appreciation of the modern medium illustrates something fundamental. They are less concerned with conflict between different ways of life than with finding common ground so that they can work together for mutual benefit. "Perhaps the greatest legacy of indigenous peoples will be their contribution to the dialogue between two world views,"; says Davis. One of those views sees human fate as inextricably connected to that of the whole natural universe, past, present and future. The other sees human beings standing apart, blind to the lessons of the past or the needs of the future, and devastating- for short term gain-forests, waterways and ultimately the whole world. Leopard 1-55054-632-5; Zigzag 0-7710-4208-6 --review by Joan Givner.
[BCBW WINTER 1998]
Submitted on July 7, 2003 in By David.
