Vitaly Umansky Illustration

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Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Impressions from the ELA test

I have witnessed the 3rd grade ELA test today and yesterday. Was it as bad as everybody says it is? No. It was much worse! For instance, few questions asked to distinguish between fact and opinion, whereas, “fact” stands for something meaningless that children need to learn to sort, and “opinion” stands for something nobody is interested in hearing. Over the years, children will get intimately familiar with the two terms. But since it is only their first test of that kind, the terms can appear a little confusing to anyone who is still capable of thought. What is a fact and what is an opinion? For example, according to the DOE experts “The New York State tests are designed to measure how well students have mastered necessary skills and to monitor the effectiveness of instructional programs. These tests reflect the high standards set for elementary and intermediate grades and help ensure that students are prepared for high school. The tests children take were developed and evaluated carefully. Many New York State educators and researchers conducted extensive reviews of each test question, approving only those test questions judged to be of the highest quality and in alignment with the New York State Learning Standards. The test questions have been field-tested to ensure that the directions are clear and easy to follow, the material is interesting to students, and the tests are reliable indicators of student achievement.” Is that a fact or an opinion? You could look at the tests from a different angle. You could also say that these tests only appear absolutely meaningless. In fact, they do serve one purpose. $350 million government money go to test-writing companies to ensure that the generation that is now in schools will be a generation of non-thinking subjects, incapable of questioning anyone or anything that would smoothly go through the bureaucratic machine from birth to death. Is that a fact or an opinion?

But enough speculating. Let me give you the fact of how I personally felt during this test. Did you know that before taking the marvelous test (which is “interesting to students”) the teacher “ensures that the directions are clear and easy to follow”? Yes, and it happens in the following manner: the teacher reads from a document compiled by some corporate lawyer (judging by the nature of the language) for 30 minutes. During this time students cannot lift a pencil, turn a page, or do anything that would imply that they are young homo-sapiens. The students are dehumanized, demoralized and bored to their bones before the teacher reaches the middle of the instructions document. Do you want to know how it feels? Imagine a small and empty room with grey walls and no windows; only a fluorescent lamp is flickering above you. Now imagine that you are tied to a board, and a special machine intravenously pumps shit into your body. The total experience lasts 90 minutes. If there is anything human left in you after that time, how do you call it?

The test itself is, no doubt, interesting to the students, as the DOE claims. It is interesting to read a dead text; a text of a certain genre - the test-text. A text is certainly followed by interesting questions, each has four possible answers that can be broken as follows: no; retarded; stupid; also stupid but less than others. Or: idiotic; retarded; no way; wait a second, nothing here matches the text. Or: no; it’s either both of these or none of the above; who’s the moron who wrote these questions?; did they even read the text? I can't reveal the exact phrasing of the questions, but I can make analogous ones.

1. A rabbit enters a supermarket. What is the most likely food it would select? (Here you of course, imagine a supermarket and the vegetable section with carrots and cabbages, and lettuces, but hold on, here are the possible answers)

A) Chicken

B) Spaghetti

C) Can of Tuna

D) Eggs

Well one of them is right, and three of them are wrong.

2. After reading the novel The Catcher in the Rye, what is the relationship of Holden with his grandmother.

A) Pleasant

B) Tight

C) Warm

D) Explosive

HIS GRANDMOTHER???

3. In Franz Kafka's novel America, what does the word "it" on page 52, line 26, refers to?

A) The blank paper equivalent to your mind right now

B) The choice in a supermarket this test is preparing you for

C) The street where you would rather be right now

D) The paper airplane you want to make out of the answer sheet

After some 45 minutes of debates of this kind, the students that ought to look like the famous Munch’s painting “the Scream”, are allowed to go to the bathroom – under escort! Lest, of course, the students of different classes will conspire to check their answers against each other. Somehow, I doubt that. I could imagine this option would be possible if there were few (= not many) questions that really make you think deep (= not “what the hell could they mean?”) and check your knowledge, and one of these questions was really tough, and you couldn’t solve it, but you wanted to solve it, or you wanted to know how others thought about it. But here it is not the case. Here is the case of sinking to the bottoms of the ocean of idiocy. After 45 minutes you reach such depths that not only you don’t have any desires but you don’t have any thoughts, also. Nevertheless, teachers should be on guard (kind of like in prison).

But that’s not all the fun. After the soul was largely removed by the test, the test administration protocol makes sure that no bits and pieces of it are left, and it requires the 3rd graders to sit still for the remaining of the time. It means they cannot leave the classroom, they cannot read, they cannot draw, they cannot have anything in their hands, they cannot talk, they cannot exchange anything with anybody, and they cannot really move much. They are just supposed to be done with the test quietly for the reaming time. If they’re done in half an hour, tough luck, they get to sit quietly for an hour. That’s where the true purpose of the test is most visible. At the end, mission accomplished; a human ceases being a human and becomes something else, some neo-human, or non-human, something not really alive, or half-alive but definitely without a purpose. During the reading of the directions, the teacher said that every teacher in New York State is now reading the same words. I wanted to joke that I can hear the echo.

These tests are deadly. Anyone who gets in contact with it becomes dumb, regardless of age, intellect, or experience. This is probably the largest debilitating machine in the history of humankind.

So why do we have it? I have not yet heard a single educator who would speak in favor of these tests. Of course, the makers of the test rely on “profound research” favoring the tests and advertise it as very useful. But what about the teachers; those individuals whose job it is to know what children need, and who, through their jobs, actually know what each of their students need?

Some 230 years ago people in this country knew to protest against conditions they found unfair, or inhumane. We lost this capability somewhere along the way. We swallow every poison given to us and we are afraid to say that we don’t like it. Or, more accurately, we say we don’t like it, but we drink it anyway. The fact is, we don’t like it, and this system poisons us. This method, if continued, will turn us all into a nation of morons, at best.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Thursday, September 1, 2011

A new painting


Jill and I went to Mccaren park. Then a storm came. And Jill went to work.

Ketubah


Here's a Ketubah I made for a friend of mind. The wedding itself was awesome, and had a very good spirit.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Instantly Aged

I opened the news and saw that Jobs resined. I decided to learn more about this man and looked him up in Wikipedia. I learned many details I didn't know, like that he left Apple in the 80s' and that he made Pixar out of a division of LucasFilms, but what stroke me was the combination of encyclopedic formality with the immediacy of everything. "He is ... former chief executive officer of Apple Inc".
-Huh, they updated it already, I thought. I kept reading until I hit "On August 24, 2011, Jobs announced his resignation from his role as Apple's CEO". It was written as if the matter at hand was some event in the life of Napoleon or something from the Cold War affairs. I looked at the clock. It was 12:01 AM, August 25. With the snap of fingers, life was alphabetized and archived together with all the rest of the events that happened on a certain date in the history of the Earth. I felt like I instantly aged, and was myself stuffed between bits and bytes, possibly to be found on some date in the history of the Earth. What happens when you are found? Is it like a resurrection, or more like a reincarnation, since you are unrecognizably out of context?
Dear diary, in my next life I will be reduced to few words by someone who is also tagged in some tiny, meaningless corner of the informational cosmos.
And I will be able to Google us both in the current life. Watch.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

The lost third painting


Here's a view from Roosevelt Island, from few weeks ago.

Friday, July 29, 2011

The Identified Flying Object over the Brooklyn Bridge


New collaboration. Me and Jillian began this painting of the Brooklyn Bridge, and then Clare Wilderson and Carley Leedy joined us and added some fun to it!

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Vitaly and Jill Workship




This group of paintings is a result of a collaboration revived by the Brooklyn Independent Television who interviewed us last week, we (Jillian Leedy and myself) began working together again, always sharing a canvas. The initiative is gaining steam. We usually pick a spot somewhere in the city, spend about an hour on smaller, individual canvases, then coat a large canvas with some color, and begin painting it together.

Here are some of the little, individual, practice, get-the-shit-outofa-way ones:










And here are the paintings themselves:




Saturday, June 18, 2011

5/6/7's Class of 2011


This is a gift I made to the graduating 5-6-7's class at the Early Childhood Center at Sarah Lawrence. They liked it a lot.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

A gift for 80th birthday


It pretty much shows I haven't drawn for a while. I might sit there with the 0 brush another year, but there's no drawing there. O, what can you do. I called it bad composition #4. I'll fix myself. I promise!

Friday, January 14, 2011

Jerusalem (or not)


Here's another attempt to save myself and create something during the last days of a month long vacation I wasted on complete bullshit.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Trees





As you noticed I haven't done much lately. But given some free time I did make something. Inspired by wonderful work of a very talented Anna Rozhdestvenskaya, I did these trees.

First one, of course, wasn't that great.


The second one was better.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

New Murals for the Y





Thursday, August 12, 2010

Weird Shit

I usually filter weird shit that happens (shame), but this one, I just had to put on paper.

Extreme Violence With Onion Springles


Do you believe in signs? Do you believe that an arbitrary moment in time and space can signify another? If you're like me, you probably don't and never will.

I always promote that New York is one of the safest cities in the world. I have never seen a single crime in seven years I'm in the city. Well, I've seen one today. Seen, and done nothing.

It was two days after my exhibition at the Empire Hotel Rooftop, right across the Lincoln Center. I was on my way to the Bronx Zoo where me and my buddies schedule to meet for some drawing. A group of nine or ten 2nd-graders were riding with their instructor to the Zoo as well. Though it wasn't a short commute I did not draw anything. Though I wanted to. In front of me, four little black boys were standing on their knees, with their feet hanging down from the bench, excitedly looking out the window and discussing what they see. I thought it could be a cute picture to make, very lively, yet I just looked and tried to memorize the scene.

Suddenly, a lady next to me leaned over and mumbled something pointing to the direction of the kids. I smiled and nodded. She repeated again, and directed my attention to a small, sealed container of Springles, onions flavor.

"It looks suspicious" - she said.

"At this size?" - was my dumb response. At the following few stops of silence, I chastised myself for my answer. How could I know? Was I an expert? My only confidence in the everyday routine is not a protection of anything abnormal. And who knew? I started pondering. If yes, these kids, my god! Do I become paranoiac as well, and call 911, or 311, or whatever the hell you dial these days? I lived in Jerusalem all through the 90s'. I know that in these cases fear is a personal choice. So I decided to ignore it, and on the next stop left with the kids and headed towards the Zoo.

In the zoo it was crowded and hot. We met, drew a bit, talked a bit, and then I headed back, because I still had things to do. I sat in the corner of the car of the 5 train in front of two good looking black girls. Didn't pay much attention to who was sitting next to me. It was some Asian kid, perhaps 15 or 16 years old. After a stop or two I remembered those kids looking from the window, lively discussing something, and decided to draw it, maybe even stick a bomb under the seat. And I went into the drawing.

A few stops later I witnessed violence like I haven't witnessed for a long time, now. As I was drawing I saw some sudden movement with the corner of my eye, a schoolboy jumped on the schoolboy sitting next to me. A second. He started beating him. Is that a game? Shit! This is serious! A second. The guy spread his arms wide and aimed four or six good punches to the other guy's head one after another. A second. I jumped away and stood up. The train stopped. The guy was looking at me now. Then he shrugged, and left the train. A second.

"O my god! Are you alright?!" Screamed the girls who were sitting in front of me. I leaned towards the guy who was now bent on the bench with his face down. "Call the cops! Call 911! - one of them yelled - O my god! Hold on, don't close the doors!" The victim lifted his head, blood on his lips, blood dripping off his nose, tears in his eyes. It was just a kid! Just some kid with braces! "O my god! He broke his nose!" The girl kept yelling. after a moment the kid rushed out to the platform. In a minute a conductor came talking on the radio: "Yeah, they've escorted him down, too."

It turned out the kid was texting on his iphone and the guy came to him and said he wanted his phone. So the kid replied, no, it was his phone. That's when the asshole jumped on him. The rest of the trip I was looking into the floor. How shameful. I was sitting right next to the guy and didn't do anything. Well, and what could I really do? At least I wasn't stabbed. He was beating the shit out of this kid with no interruptions. It was 2:30pm in a half-crowded train in the Bronx. I still couldn't believe that by the time I tuned in and realized what's happening the show was over. My view of my surrounding reality have changed, or was at least, shaken a little.

I switched to the R on 59th St. I saw no gangsters and no gangsters to be. In front of me sat two beautiful girls, gleaming Union Square, NYU, life is perfect as always. Except that one of them was holding a small, sealed container of Springles, onions flavor.


Thursday, August 5, 2010

Some new stuff and some stuff I never got to before





Check this out! I got a camera! I even made it work. Though it was a battle because it's used and Photoshop didn't recognize the RAWs, but now... O, boy I HAVE A CAMERA!!!

Monday, August 2, 2010

Still life

Possible opportunity forced me to concentrate on Friday.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Folder illo for kings bay Y

The New Write n' Draw Project


Ok, so me Jillian, Clare, Peter and Manuel decided to play this game. One starts (Jillian) by sending someone else (me) a body of text. This one was a dream she had. And I had to do the first page of the comic strip that would hopefully continue. Upon completion, I sent the writing and the drawing to the rest of the people asking anybody to do the second page, and so on. We'll see what becomes of it.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Monday, July 12, 2010

My new place

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Exhibition Opening!



You are welcome.
Saturday, May 1, Kings Bay Y (Nostrand Ave. btw Ave U and Ave V), 8:30pm

Monday, April 5, 2010

Rain

Went to MoMA on Tuesday and spent 2 hours under the rain trying to get it. I don't recommend it. But I finally got in and saw a magnificent exhibition of William Kentridge. Resulting in this:

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Kings Bay Y Logo






I am (commissioned) to redesign the logo of Kings Bay Y, for whom I am doing the mural. So here are some variations on that.