Crazy as a Loon

This is not a loon. It is a Canada goose
at the Walker Art Museum.*

I was recently wondering where the expression "crazy as a loon" came from. Here's what I found.

Loons are interesting waterfowl. I can't recall ever seeing one until I moved to Northern Minnesota. They have a distinctive call, and some unusual habits so that their easy to recognize when you're out by the lake. 

The expression "crazy as a loon" is thought to have originated in the 19th century. The word "loon" comes from the Middle English word "loun," which meant "a lout, idler, rogue." By the 18th century, the word "loon" had come to be used to describe someone who was crazy or foolish. 

The connection between loons and madness may have come from the bird's erratic behavior. Loons are known for their loud, haunting calls and their tendency to dive underwater for long periods of time. They can also be aggressive, and have been known to attack people who get too close to their nests.

In addition to their erratic behavior, loons were also associated with the moon. The word "lunatic" comes from the Latin word "luna," which means "moon." In the Middle Ages, people believed that the phases of the moon could affect people's mental health. This belief led to the idea that people who were crazy were "moonstruck," which may have also been the impetus behind werewolf stories.

Some say that the combination of loons' erratic behavior and their association with the moon led to the expression "crazy as a loon." This expression is still used today to describe someone who is crazy or foolish.

Here are some other expressions that have a similar meaning to "crazy as a loon":

• Mad as a hatter
• Crazy like a fox
• Nutty as a fruitcake
• Wacky as a fruit bat
• Out of your tree
• Out of your gourd
• Not playing with a full deck

Do you have a favorite expression to describe people who are a little off their rocker?

*Photo courtesy Gary Firstenberg. Sculpture in background by Claes Oldenburg

Arts Writers Discuss Why, How Write About Art

Cohort
noun
1. one of 10 divisions of an ancient Roman legion
2. a group of people banded together or treated as a group.

Martin DeWitt

A new arts project is underway. It's esoteric title is Ambient Intelligence: Duluth Arts Writing Cohort, but it seems that whatever it gets called it's going to generate an immense quantity of fascinating dialogue with potentially significant ramifications. The creator of the Cohort, Judy Budreau, had been the force behind the journalism/media project One River, Many Stories of 2015-2016. 

For 90 minutes last night 20 people from a range of backgrounds and perspectives gathered in the DAI board room to discuss the questions "Why write about contemporary art?" and "Why do we participate in making art and writing about art?"

Kathy McTavish, whose newest exhibition Chance is slated to be unveiled next week at the Tweed, served as moderator for this first gathering. Three panelists were also present to present ideas that served as catalysts to further discussion: Jordan Moses (All Black Zine and Prove Gallery), Ryuta Nakajima (UMD School of Fine Art), and Ashley Kolka (ARAC).

In her opening remarks McTavish stated that writing was a profoundly human act and a way of understanding our world. She also discussed how writing is a positional act. That is, when we write we approach our themes positionally. We've all been taught the main viewpoints since grammar school, whether it be third person, second person or first person perspective. She then noted yet a fourth perspective, the "zero person" perspective, which comes from that subliminal place below the conscious mind, below "I", below the cerebral self. "It's a beautiful place to stay in for a moment," she said. And an interesting concept, I thought to myself.

After elaborating on this initial groundwork she introduced the panel, and for the next hour we dissected the premises put out on the table. The next day, one of the members of the cohort emailed me expressing her sentiments regarding the first meeting. "I thought the conversation yesterday was riveting," she wrote.

Here are a few of the highlights that emerged from the dialogue that ensued, attribution supplied where it was clearly indicated in my notes.

WHY IS IT IMPORTANT TO WRITE ABOUT ART?

Digital image from Kathy McTavish's Quantum Project

1. "The arts writer's job is to find entry points for people to engage." --Tim White

2. Judy Budreau asked "Why is it important to write about art?" These were a few of the replies.
--"It's a passionate love story." (Kathy McTavish)
--"We write because we're afraid people are going to forget."
--""I write about it because it's survival and renewal, a revitalization of our culture. These are our stories. This is who we are." (Kayla Stewart)
--Annie Dugan compared it to a love letter connecting us.
--Jordan Moses stated that arts writing is something he does intentionally. "I care about the future."

3. "Art is a window that opens our eyes and minds." --Ryuta Nakajima

4. A concept that I heard echoed by more than one person was the problem that comes when our words "fix" a work of art in place, like capturing and pinning butterflies to a board, or placing things into cubby holes so they are neatly packaged and dispensed with. Words bring a "closure" that the art itself resists. (This was a discussion that could have been explored far more, were there time.)

5. Ryuta Nakajima shared how in the scientific community people write papers that show their full understanding of the thought and research that preceded us, how we then add our two cents (or whatever) onto the stack of previous papers, hoping to add to the accumulated knowledge. "Do we do this as artists?" he asked. What is our contribution to the historical dialogue?

Quite frankly, he was expressing the same line of thought that I've been recently contemplating. It was refreshing and stimulating to hear re-affirmed.

6. Another topic batted around briefly (and worth further exploration) was how the arts magazines have evolved into promotional tools for the galleries and museums, and that in an effort to keep advertising revenues flowing they tend to mute overly critical reviews. (EdNote: What I just stated is my interpretation of the discussion, which would be worthy of further exploration at some time down the road. I myself still have a 1974 ArtForum magazine which I enjoy perusing now and then. When I compare it to what that publication has become today -- a book-sized volume of 400 pages with seemingly three-fourths advertisements for galleries -- it's quite apparent that the above indictment could be leveled against this and other former leaders of arts criticism. They don't want to offend.)

7. There are many pockets of artists doing interesting work apart from the "big" arts scene today.

8. Jordan Moses described the Zine scene as "a lawless zone where I could say and do what I want," where there are no rules.

9. There was a significant discussion about recent events at the Walker involving an incident that occurred at the Walker Art Museum earlier this year.  (This insightful article was posted this week, furthering the dialogue about inclusiveness.)

10. "I write... because it's survival and renewal, revitalization of our culture. These are our stories. This is who we are." --Kayla Schubert, Indigenous Arts Journal

11. Another direction the conversation briefly went that could be explored further: "What happens in your brain when you have an aesthetic experience. Language has nothing to do with that."

12. Corollary: "Art can be a social betterment tool."

As our time expired one last comment seemed to resonate with the room. "Art is also a drug."

* * * *

What a rewarding discussion. What a shame we have to wait a month for the next meeting. Fortunately, we don't have to wait a month to have our next conversation. Thank you, Judy, for your work in putting this together.

Meantime, art goes on all around you. What are you working on now?