Humanimals confronts many of the “problematic issues” Weitz sees in our society. Each of the 12 “human-size carved figurative cabinets” depicts an animal idiom (like “Foxy” or “Sheepish”) with the interior cabinet portion opening up to reveal “how humans typically treat the animal in the idiom,” such as the fur and wool industries. Besides “Foxy” and “Sheepish,” the exhibit also includes “Harebrained” (a doctor bunny), “Chickenhearted” (a farmer chicken), and “Night Owl” (an owl in a bathrobe).

"Chickenhearted" by Gayle Weitz (pictured) -- from "Humanimals"

In this groundbreaking exhibit, Weitz’s examination of the oftentimes complex relationship between humans and animals — too often based in the collective societal acceptance that exploitation is okedoke — is explored, allowing the viewer to note the profound irony of, say, the aforementioned chicken farmer (pictured left). According to that article, Weitz “aims to ‘reveal truths’ and ‘penetrate the cultural ignorance in society.’”

My love for Madison, WI just got even deeper. Last year, Mariann and I spoke there at the Mad City Vegan Fest, which is memorialized in both our podcast episode (#76) that ruminated on our very-vegan trip to Madison (and interviewed some of Mad City’s own), as well as the video we made for VegNews, VegFest Mash-Up. We’ve actually been to (and thoroughly enjoyed) the Memorial Union, but only wish we could be there between now and March 20, so we could catch this eye-opening show.

From "Humanimals" by Gayle Weitz

Picture at top of blog: “Harebrained” by Gayle Weitz, from “Humanimals”

Book Illustration from "Lightfoot the Deer" (credit: Harrison Cady)

Their event, “‘Stories from the Wild’ at Central Library” will feature the classic children’s book, Lightfoot the Deer, written by Thornton W. Burgess and illustrated by Harrison Cady, which tells the story of a deer and his hunter, from the deer’s point of view. Storyteller Loretta-Lucy Miller will act as the storyteller at this event (an event which is making me wonder I should reserve a seat on the Bolt Bus — because the City of Brotherly Love is calling!). Artist Zipora Schula and dancer Lara Vracarich will be helping to lead the kiddies in the hands-on portion of the afternoon. It will take place on Saturday, February 18, from 2-4 p.m., at Story Hour Room of the Parkway Central Library Children’s Department, 1901 Vine Street, Philadelphia, PA 19103. The event is free, and it is recommended that you make reservations, by emailing publiceyephilly [at] gmail.com.

For those of you not in the Philadelphia area (and if you’re not, you should probably find yourself there sometime soon, since the new vegan hotspot, Vedge, just opened), it is pretty easy to host an event like this all by yourself. You can either use Lightfoot the Deer, or you can browse around on VegBooks for other animal-friendly books. Be sure to include pro-animal themed activities that make the young ones not only engage in artistic expression, but also begin dialogue with their friends (and with you) about why animals are our friends — not our food.

Basically, what FreeAnimalVideo.org does is provides high-quality clips of animals in all kinds of situations — animals in entertainment, animals in sports and fashion, farm animals, laboratory animals, wildlife, companion animals — and allows anyone to download and use them for free. The videos you can download include everything from general footage that can be placed into a larger context (like a nibbling lamb or a close-up on a goose), to absolutely horrific stuff, like a white fox being anally electrocuted. There are promotional videos for animal advocacy organizations as well. The videos are made available in either HD (suitable for TV), or lower-quality that will suffice for “the internet machine” (I stole that term from Rachel Maddow — who, now that I’m thinking about it, should totally use some of this footage and actually cover an animal story on her show). You can also submit videos, either by uploading them, or sending in physical tapes.

This brilliant activist resource is the brainchild of founders Sandra Mohr and Patty Shenker.

Here is an example of how the footage has been used. The clip below shows our friend Jane Velez-Mitchell (who was on our podcast last year), of CNN’s HLN show, “Issues With Jane Velez-Mitchell.”

A pinup model... WHO KNEW? (We're on the top right.)

The calendar is not only a fun and accessible way to help change these stereotypes, but, you’ve gotta admit, it’s a wickedly creative campaign! I’ve long gawked at the calendar models — both the human and non-human ones — which is why, last year, I decided to take my chances, because what did I have to lose? Getting model and performer Bettina May to do my photos and make-up was icing on my cruelty-free cake, because not only is she a well-known modern-day burlesque superstar, but she’s also an outspoken vegan. She has even created vegan versions of burlesque gear that traditionally uses animal products, like boas made out of fiber instead of feathers, yet look just like the “real deal” (minus the exploitation). My Rose was a trooper that day, too, and thoroughly enjoyed the attention and spotlight.

This is Rose. She totally knows how gorgeous she is. (As she should.)

Pinups for Pitbulls is certainly a think-outside-the-box type of organization, which is another reason why I’m gaga for them. Indeed, it’s not just the attractive women (many of whom have tattoos — sigh…) that draws me in, nor is it the perfect pits who steal the show. PFPB was founded in 2005 by Deirdre “Little Darling” Franklin. Little Darling was increasingly saddened and frustrated by “shelters” euthanizing totally adoptable pit bull-type dogs, simply because of their breed. So she tapped into her experience, skills, and interest in modeling, fine arts, and education, and started this truly one-of-a-kind organization. 7 years later, I am basically ecstatic to be among the women and dogs who can call themselves “Ms. February.”

Photo by Bettina May

In addition to getting the calendar (quick! before it’s March!), and supporting this organization, there is also a lesson to be learned from this organization. A strong takeaway from PFPB is that nobody has to sit idly by and be frustrated by an animal issue. Much like Little Darling demonstrated when she grew this positive, accessible, and fun organization out of a desire to change the world — and a refusal to become complacent and accept a world where pit bulls are put down for no good reason — we can all plug our talents and skills into animal advocacy.

Another takeaway from PFPB? Rose is ridiculously gorgeous. And the 1940′s were a much more fashionable era.

"Vegans Are Cool" (and hot, apparently)

In addition to interviews with us, you’ll find interviews with Brazil-based designer Julia Harger, Australian entertainer Renata Halpin (who is “Teaching Kids to Go Green, the Musical Way“), as well as vegan activists from countries including Iran, South Africa, and Mongolia. There are also eye-opening articles written by movers and shakers from around the globe, including activist Leigh-Chantelle (who was on our podcast), dietician Amanda Benham, and environmentalists Gerard Wederburn-Bisshop and Lefkothea Pavlidis.

Though we’re clearly huge fans of using the internet to influence others to adopt a vegan diet and, what’s more, get involved with changing the world for animals, there is sometimes nothing more powerful than reading a real, live book. Plus, whip out a copy of Vegans Are Cool the next time you’re settling in for a soy latte at your favorite café, and you can bet people will take notice — especially once they see the sexy cover models, Noel Polanco (of “Noel Vegan Fitness Star“), along with the ridiculously cute pup, Bianquita.

Though I knew this before getting the book, it is clearer than ever before that vegans are, indeed, cool.

Photo at top of blog: Courtesy of Neil (photo called “Pig at sanctuary”), uploaded from Vegan Stock Photo.

***

Growing up on Long Island, I heard tales of the spooky experiments that took place on Plum Island, a livestock disease research facility off the coast. While on my family’s boat, we would pass the island, looking for the smoke that often floated up from the large buildings and the rumored animal-monsters that they created in their labs.

"Primacy" by J.E. Fishman

Perhaps this link between Long Island and animal testing was part of the inspiration for J. E. Fishman’s thriller, Primacy, which takes place, in part, in Pentalon, a fictional animal testing facility in Farmingdale, New York, not far from where I grew up on Long Island. Behind Pentalon’s walls, animals of all kinds are subjected to genetic and disease testing that causes pain, distress and, for some, death. But what if one of these animals could speak to the scientists who were subjecting them to those tests? Would those researchers reexamine the purpose of their actions? Would the whole system of animal testing break down? These are the questions that Fishman tackles.

Primacy follows the story of Liane Vinson, an animal researcher at Pentalon who is fully aware of the rules of detachment that employees must follow in order to keep themselves numb from the cruel harm they inflict on animals. However, for Liane, when it comes to a pair of twin bonobos, whom she has named and grown attached to, somehow those rules don’t matter. When one of them, Bea, who, like her twin brother, was born with unique vocal chords, suddenly begins to speak, uttering Liane’s name — Liane’s world is, naturally, turned upside down. Bea’s brother is soon subjected to a brutal laryngectomy to study his vocal chords, and it is then that Liane knows that she must save Bea from Pentalon’s clutches. Thus begins a journey that will forever change her life and her beliefs about animal sentience.

In her desperation, Liane turns to her ex-boyfriend, Corey Harrow, a member of FAULT (“Folks Against Unnecessary Lab Testing”), which is known for protesting outside of Pentalon’s gates, and torching animal testing labs. It soon becomes clear that Corey and Liane have very different goals for Bea. Liane wants to release Bea back into the wilds of Africa, while Corey wants to cultivate Bea’s language skills so that she might become a mascot for the movement, appearing on television to plead the case against the exploitation of animals. Liane sees this plan as further exploitation of Bea, and argues that what Bea would want more than anything is the chance to once again just be a bonobo, and live among her own kind in the jungle. Corey counters that no one can know what Bea truly wants, and that with his plan, she will be well cared for while still being of great use to the movement toward total animal liberation. She will be an ambassador for her kind.

In the mean time, while Liane is on the run from the Pentalon forces, and while she’s also trying to get Bea away from the animal rights activists, we are introduced to Dikembe Kasa, who lives in Congo. Grief stricken by the loss of his wife to a hemorrhagic fever, caused by her ingestion of bush meat, Dikembe sets out, with his son, to right a wrong that he committed. He believes that his decision to sell twin bonobos that he caught in the wild – thereby making him a participant in the cruel animal trade – gave him bad karma, ultimately causing the fever that killed his wife. Dikembe sets off to explore his own connection to Bea, the talking bonobo.

One of the great things about Primacy is that these characters, and their stories, create the opportunity for the author to bring up many important questions for anyone who has ever cared about an animal. For the most part, he doesn’t shy away from these issues. An example of this is Corey, who makes cogent arguments against animal testing, specifically regarding its cruelty, monetary motivations, and ineffectiveness. Dikembe’s rejection of poaching in Africa, and the portrayal of the exotic animal dealers, also send a strong conservationist message. And, most of all, Bea is portrayed as a sentient creature with a full range of emotions. Icing on the cake is that each section of the book begins with a quote relating to animal rights.

Unfortunately, however, while the animal rights activists who make up the membership of FAULT are not portrayed as the enemy, or as complete crazies, they nonetheless come across as misguided. Their stance for total liberation of animals at any cost – rather than focusing on what is best for an individual animal – is, in my experience, totally uncharacteristic of animal rights activists, who truly value each individual (as well as total liberation). This flawed portrayal is, perhaps, not surprising, since Fishman, disappointingly, is careful to assert in the epilogue that he is not an animal rights activist, while asking readers to do their own research on the subject of animal testing.

Perhaps telling of Fishman’s ambivalent, even contradictory, attitudes toward our proper relationship with animals is the fact that the book does not adequately go there when it comes to food, and the torture of animals on factory farms. At one point in the story, Liane is eating hamburgers, and notes the irony of it, while Corey is a proud vegan. But, unlike the issues regarding animal research, these issues are never fully developed, nor in any way resolved. They are simply glossed over, leaving a wasted opportunity for interesting discussion among the book’s protagonists.

Still, it’s a breath of fresh air to get a chance to read compelling fiction that addresses harm to animals in a serious and largely thoughtful way. While not every character in the book ended up a vegan activist – an outcome that would have seemed ideal, even obvious, to any animal rights activist reading it – Primacy is nonetheless not only a page-turner, complete with enough violence and adventure to compel any thriller fan, but it exposes the truth about the cruel experiments that are performed on millions of animals in laboratories. It discusses the very real situation of how they are fed toxins to see how long it takes them to die, how they have their bodies cut into in order to study their organs, and how their brains are painfully attached to wires so we can study their brain waves. As an animal activist, the best part of this book, to me, is the fact that readers who would never think to pick up a book obviously focused on animal rights will be exposed to these horrors in the context of this very entertaining read.

The full-length one-act ride is actually comprised of three short plays, by three different playwrights, all interwoven into one — giving the audience the opportunity to delve into the work that groundbreaking primatologists Goodall, Fossey, and Galdikas did with, respectively, chimpanzees, gorillas, and orangutans.

Animals were never seen the same way again.

The origin of the title, Leakey’s Ladies — which was the one part of the play that I intensely disliked (more on that later) — is in the fact that all three of these women were inspired originally to do their work by anthropologist and game-changer, Louis Leakey. Beyond just a professional relationship, the personal connection that Leakey shared with all three women — the fondness they had for him, the mentorship and friendship he provided — was abundantly clear (and incredibly touching) throughout the play.

However, though Leakey had the foresight to get them started on their paths, his underlying goal was for the three women to study these animals in order to shed light on the human condition, and human origins; the animals themselves, and their sentience, were not his focus. In fact, the work of Fossey, Goodall, and Galdikas ended up going far beyond Leakey’s original mission.

As visualized throughout the play, frequently through the use of moving and effective puppetry, the women connect deeply to the animals — each in different, yet equally profound, ways. The women also become enmeshed in the political situations that surround, and often threaten, them and their work. Not surprisingly, the reality on the ground is far distanced from the “Ivory Tower” research project that was imagined prior to their beginning their projects.

It was particularly interesting to see the contrasts among the three women, and the way they approached their journey. The tender but fiercely determined Goodall was by far the most scientific, and was devoted to simply observing — even though even she was criticized vehemently in the scientific community for supposedly interfering with and anthropomorphizing the animals. Of course, the scientific community has always been quick to play the “anthropomorphizing card,” rather than taking the time, and the infinite patience, needed to see the animals as real. Perhaps more than anyone in history, Goodall saw the animals fully, and even when it became painful, refused to look away. She recognized the chimpanzees as individuals with unique personalities, and reported on them as such. Because of this, her contributions are incalculable — both to our understanding of chimpanzees, and of animals in general.

Tatiana Pavela as Dian Fossey (Photo by Shell Sheddy)

Dian Fossey was a much more emotional character who found herself in an extremely dire situation. At one gripping point in the play, there’s a brief but heart-wrenching retelling of how she had been captured and raped when she was in Congo. Fossey’s later work, in Rwanda, was also fraught with political nightmares — both in dealing with the government that wanted to exploit her work, and fighting the poachers, who, of course, ultimately ended her life.

Birute Galdikas, who came across as a bit of a hippie, was depicted as having enculturated herself much more into the Indonesian world in which she was living. Galdikas left her mark with, among other things, incredibly important observational research. What’s more –presented with a crisis situation in which, because of the trade, there were enormous numbers of orphaned orangutans — she founded a sanctuary, saving thousands of lives.

Through stunning puppetry, which was really beautifully done (just as in the play, War Horse, I forgot I was looking at puppets), as well as costumed actors and video projections, the audience was given the unique theatrical experience of seeing the animals themselves. Not only did this effectively show the intense relationship of the women to these animals, but it also displayed the tragedy of some of the animals’ lives, and gave us a glimpse into their sometimes funny, complicated, social, anti-social, and brave personalities. This was epitomized both in Galdikas’ relationship with TP, a male orangutan with whom she formed a real relationship, and in the truly heartbreaking story of Flo and Flint, which, for anyone who knows Goodall’s work, is all too familiar. The puppets also let us see into Dian Fossey’s relationship with one of her orphaned gorillas and witness up close her struggle about whether to take him in and raise him, knowing she might eventually have to turn him over to the government for life in a zoo.

Just as charming as the play itself was the space where it came to life. Dixon Place, the non-profit theatre that aims to, among other things, “contribute to the community” by making itself available “as a meeting place for social change organizations,” has, as one of their focuses, a bent toward LGBT issues and other issues affecting minority groups. Given that, it was refreshing to see a play focusing on the greatest underdogs of all — animals. And the fact that this work also highlighted the stories of three powerful women was icing on the cake for me (my cake, of course, was vegan). That is why I had issue with the title, Leakey’s Ladies. Though not to undercut the revolutionary work of Louis Leakey, and the primary role he played in fostering the work of Goodall, Galdikas, and Fossey, these truly extraordinary women stood their ground on their own, forging ahead despite nearly insurmountable obstacles. True, before anyone else believed in them, Leakey did. But why lump these women into a subsidiary role as this title seems to do? To me, it undermines the independent and trailblazing work of three pioneer women, at a time (late 60′s and early 70′s) when the women’s rights movement was only beginning to grow into a revolution.

But I digress. Silly name or not, Leakey’s Ladies is well worth a trip to the Lower East Side. For the most part, the main actors portrayed their characters with the necessary depth and emotion that the story demanded, but it was Tatiana Pavela’s masterful interpretation of Dian Fossey — complete with Pavela’s commanding presence, powerful voice, and surprisingly unabashed vulnerability — that stole the show. That, and the puppets, who were designed meticulously by David Valentine. It was all I could do to not “adopt” one of them on my way out of the theatre, when no one was looking…

In the history of Our Hen House — which is 2 years old almost to the day — we have only had a small handful of opportunities to cover theatrical productions that implicitly or explicitly dealt with animal rights issues. To name a few, there were: The Tragical-Comical Trial of Madame P and Other 4-Legged and Winged Creatures, which covered the medieval animal trials; the one-woman play, I’m Sorry: How a People-Pleasing Apologist Became an Animal-Loving Activist; and Dead Pile, a play that followed the story of an undercover investigator inside a dairy farm. The impetus for the Art of the Animal section was, of course, to highlight such work — as well as provide ideas and inspiration for others to get involved in the powerful arts/advocacy union. As someone with a background as an actor, this merging gives me fever-like chills. There is nothing greater than using the huge capacity of even the tiniest stage, and making it a tool to create change. Directed and designed by Gretchen Van Lente, Leakey’s Ladies, which we will further discuss and review this weekend on our podcast, has the wherewithal to change hearts and minds about animals. If it’s true that all the world’s a stage, then perhaps compassion is more within reach than we think.

Antennae rocks my world

I, for one, am nothing short of stirred and tickled to learn about this incredibly in-depth and thought-provoking resource, and I’m already wondering how I’m going to finish my Christmahanusolstikwanzikuh shopping, when I have all of these back issues to catch up on! I know that many of you will also be titillated, since my inbox is frequently bursting with emails from you wondering how to get further involved with speaking up for animals through the arts. Well, lucky for you, Antennae is seeking submissions for publication.

And in the interest of shameless self-promotion (’tis the season, right?), I wanted to point out a few pieces that Our Hen House has created for our Art of the Animal series, focusing on some of the same creative activists that Antennae is also shedding light on. Last year, we made a video about visual artist Jonathan Horowitz, and his “Go Vegan” exhibit. Two weeks ago, we featured Peter Singer on our 100th podcast episode (which is also available, as always, on iTunes). And, in what is perhaps the video I am most proud of, a couple days ago we brought you our newest installment of the Art of the Animal video series, this time featuring one of our heroes, Sue Coe. Our Art of the Animal series, which is hardly as academic as Antennae (I’m not sure anything I’ve ever written can be described as such), features artists who speak up for animals through their art form, and you can you learn more by browsing that section of our website.

Queenie Poster by Sue Coe

Our video-short takes you on a journey narrated by Sue herself, and features selections from her vast body of work. In it, she describes the impetus behind her life’s work – growing up next door to a hog farm and hearing the hogs’ screaming as they were led to slaughter. These experiences left an indelible mark on her. In turn, she leaves her own mark on the hearts and minds of anyone who views her images, which have been shown in galleries and museums all over the world. The unapologetically graphic nature of her work results in us, the viewers, bearing witness to suffering – a fate that began for Sue so many years ago – yet also leaves us feeling inspired to create change. For Sue Coe, and for many of us who take in her images, complacency is no longer an option. Though many vegans and animal rights advocates are already aware of these realities, even seasoned activists will be moved and inspired by Coe’s artistic explorations of animal suffering.

Now, we invite you to experience the revelatory images that document the reality of animal exploitation, and to learn first-hand from Sue Coe how her journey into this oftentimes dark, but very real world, manifested.

UPDATE:

Keep your eyes open for Sue Coe’s book, Cruel, which will be available from www.orbooks.com in Spring 2012.

But despite the good intentions, there’s almost always the dark underbelly associated with making any film that centers around animals — the inherent exploitation therein. So, while I love to see people being informed about, say, the indescribably cruel treatment of circus animals, don’t even get me started on the horrific irony of taking a book that is so right on in terms of its messaging — I’m talking about Water for Elephants, which I loved reading — and turning it into a huge, massive exploitation festival, Hollywood-style.

Unless you’re going to put dogs in a film and not direct them — like the brilliant filmmakers behind Bold Native did when they filmed around where the dogs walked and what the dogs did (they used their own dogs, by the way) – you can basically bet your tofu dinner that the animal actors in that big Hollywood movie are being misused, and that their natural needs are being put second to the producers’ unnatural ones.

While it’s probably true that not all animal handlers involved in Hollywood films, or all productions using animal actors, are equal, the way I see it, there is basically no way around the exploitation. And, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, for those of us who care about ending animal cruelty, the American Humane Association’s stamp of approval (“There were no animals harmed during the making of this film”) is about as reliable as a meat-eater tossing around labels like “humane certified” and “free-range,” and thinking that means that there’s nothing more to worry about.

Still, though… There is something to be said about the huge mainstream movie-going audience sitting in front of their favorite stars and learning that animals have feelings, too. So, although in my ideal world I don’t want any animals to appear on the big screen, when they do, I want to believe in the message that the film is trying to convey. I suppose it’s the lesser of two evils, and I think that the potential reward — the possibility of awakening someone to animal issues — can have profoundly positive implications.

Take yet another upcoming animal-themed Hollywood film, Big Miracle, starring — yup — Drew Barrymore, as a passionate, whale-loving activist who is trying her darnedest to save three trapped gray whales. Big Miracle is based on Operation Breakthrough, an international effort in 1988 to free several trapped whales from ice in Alaska’s Beaufort Sea. Set to be released in early February, this film has been reportedly made “ethically,” according to The Humane Society of the United States. I don’t have more specifics than that on the treatment of the whales used in the film, and, while that does ease my concerns more than an American Humane Association sign-off would, I doubt I will be paying money to see this movie. My bottom line is that whales were used, period.

Or take War Horse, which I can without question say was the best Broadway play I’ve ever seen (and I’ve seen hundreds). We discussed the power of this theatrical production on our podcast a few months ago. It was one of those pieces of art that changed our lives, that touched us in ways that are almost beyond description. The Lincoln Center production of War Horse – which, happily, uses puppets in extraordinary, expressive ways instead of actual animals – was not only a powerful social justice story about an animal who prevailed against all odds, but was proof positive that you don’t have to exploit animals in order to effectively tell their story. (Another recent example of the ability of artistry to portray animals authentically without exploiting them is, of course, the use of computer generated apes in The Rise of the Planet of the Apes.)

But now, the film version of War Horse — a Spielberg production – is about to be released, and this powerful story will be told using real horses. The trailer makes Mariann weep copiously. Still, despite our deep love for this story, we won’t be seeing War Horse. Our podcast’s Hollywood correspondent, the brilliant Ari Solomon, was given free tickets to a screening of the film, and will give us his take on this movie — as well as his thoughts on the use of animals in film — on this Saturday’s 102nd podcast episode. So don’t miss that.

This is not all cut and dried. I do see the other point of view. I get that you might want to take your kid to see Big Miracle or War Horse, and that, as a result, she might gain understanding that these precious beings are indeed sentient and deserve to live free of exploitation and suffering. And, indeed, it’s undeniable that the role that animals have played in film has, in many ways, helped to shape our attitudes for the better. As eloquently discussed by Colleen Patrick-Goudreau — whose recent talk, Animals in the Arts, was both fascinating and thought-provoking — viewing our relationships with animals through the lens of a filmmaker, or the brushstroke of a painter, can inform and inspire our views in powerful ways. We can watch old movies like The Misfits and Lassie Come Home, and from those, we can grow.

But as our culture, and our technology, have evolved to understand that it is possible to share positive stories of animals — minus the demoralization — at what point do we as a society move on from animal exploitation? And at what point does Hollywood catch on?

Why am I telling you this? Because when I first saw the work of a Turkish photographer named Mehmet Turgut, I thought of that strange early morning encounter and the stranger’s words. Specifically, I thought that Turgut had taken a concept, an idea, and had seen it best and created truly inspiring photographic images.

A stunning image from Turgut's 5199.

The Turkish paper, Today’s Zaman, tells the story of Turgut’s current project, titled “5199,” which refers to Turkey’s animal protection law. Turgut believes that the law, in addition to being weak to begin with, is neither appropriately enforced nor implemented. For “5199,” which will be on display in a public space in Istanbul through December 19 before it moves to another space in a different part of the city, Turgut photographed Turkish celebrities posing as abused or exploited animals. Using recognizable, high profile people to embody the sad, shocking lives of exploited animals is sure to grab attention.

In addition, Turgut manipulated portraits of celebrities to create hybrid human-animal creatures. When I see these images, the destinies of both the animal and the human are swapped, melded, confused, and played with. And since, really, we’re all animals — some human, some non-human — animal suffering is our suffering. Their fate is our fate. Animals are not other unless we choose to see them as such.

As if it weren’t enough to draw the public’s attention to animal exploitation with such striking images, while managing to make a profound statement about current animal law in his country, Turgut is donating proceeds from the sale of his work to the Animal Rights Federation. “I do not intend to give up this issue,” says Turgut, in the aforementioned article. “I will point out this issue on all occasions and for as long as I can.”

Don’t miss more incredible images from the exhibition.

Photo at top of blog is from Turgut’s “5199.”

But this strong preference for getting over giving is not, in my humble opinion, because of some deep characterological flaw on my part (other things about me can be attributed to that). Simply put, I don’t like giving because it’s stressful. December is not supposed to cause me excessive worry. It’s supposed to be about elves, shiny things that hang from trees, soy nog as a foundational ingredient in anything edible, and pretending that being freezing cold is a desirable part of a white Christmas. Gift giving means going to a million different stores, figuring out what my friends and family will like, determining what size to get, scouring labels to find stuff that is both vegan and ethically-sourced, battling traffic and crowds, and a relentless nagging feeling that I’m buying all the wrong things. If my neuroses about this time of year resonate with you, allow me to suggest the resolution to all of my (and your!) hangups about holiday giving: The Our Hen House Etsy Shop.

1. Everything is all in one place — you can’t beat one stop shopping at this time of year.
2. It’s all online. Feel free to browse in your jammies. (Yes, I know we can do this on Amazon, but honestly, how impersonal is that?)
3. All items are 100% vegan and ethically-sourced.
4. Our shop is full of one-of-a-kind handmade knits, jewelry, and art. You will be gifting folks with stuff they just can’t get anywhere else.
5. By shopping at our Etsy shop, you are actually making a donation to support our work! By finding your perfect holiday gifts at our shop, you’re changing the world for animals. Win-win-win.

Here are a couple items that I dig, but you should browse around see what you like.

Yellow with Green Handmade Glass Hen Earrings

Sophie the Sheep Stuffed Animal

Avocado Knit Handwarmers

Remember, in addition to the Our Hen House Etsy Shop, in exchange for a donation through the Our Hen House website, you can be the proud owner of “The Tourist Trail” by John Yunker, a “Tote-Ally Vegan” Our Hen House tote bag, or a hematite and silver necklace that proudly touts the word “VEGAN.”

The problem is, of course, how do you get people who haven’t yet seen the light to read some of that literature so it can enlighten them? Well, one idea that I love is to make some books about animals part of a reading series. Here in New York, one of our favorite reading series, Free Range Nonfiction (I know, I know, the name is a bit offputting but, I promise, they’re not talking about “humane” eggs, they’re talking about a free-wheeling approach to nonfiction) is having a special animal night featuring the works of Alison Espach, Alison Smith, and Hannah Tinti (Disclaimer: I am not yet familiar with any of these authors, but my curiosity is definitely piqued.) Not everyone who runs Free Range is vegan (or even vegetarian), which is one of the great things about the fact that animals have made it on to the agenda for the evening, and that Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary will be the beneficiary of the night’s proceeds.

With a few tweaks, this kind of program can be replicated anywhere. Free Range features authors reading from their own works, but if that’s too hard to pull off where you are, think about doing a reading with, maybe, one author reading his or her own work (or work-in-progress), and then a few really good readers reading from the works of some of the classics. Black Beauty is one that springs to mind. (If it’s a copyrighted work and you intend to read a long excerpt and you want to be very cautious, you might want to get permission, which should not be hard to do). Maybe your local library would be willing to sponsor the event.

Of course, in addition to a formal reading series, if you’re part of a reading group, you can always recommend a book that changed your heart about animal issues. Maybe it’ll change a few more.

Though I’d always had activist tendencies, I wish that I had entered the world of social justice prior to age 21. But, alas, that’s an unproductive thought, since it was all part of my process, and at least I got there eventually. Personal evolution is a complex, painful, beautiful thing. Remembering that I didn’t always know about the horrors of milk production, for example, helps me to extend compassion and patience to others who I am trying to reach with the vital message of veganism. It also gives me hope, which is something that Mariann and I discussed in a recent article we wrote for One Green Planet.

If you follow Our Hen House, you already know that another thing that gives me hope is when art is combined with advocacy. That is why I’m thoroughly thrilled that The Performance Collective at The University of North Carolina Chapel Hill is currently performing a theatrical adaptation of Jonathan Safran Foer’s wildly popular book, Eating Animals. According to IndyWeek.com, the student actors consume a variety of diets, mostly omnivorous. Yet after learning that all the students at UNC were assigned Eating Animals as their mandatory summer reading, the play’s director, Tony Perucci (a “steadfast omnivore”), felt that the theatrical adaptation would be a perfect fit for The Performance Collective. (Last year, they performed a theatrical adaptation of The Activist.)

As reported in IndyWeek.com:

Rather than attempting to fit Foer’s nonfiction into a single conventional story arc [...], the collective will incorporate movement, dance and multimedia into a more diverse production that still derives some two-thirds of its text from the book, according to Perucci. “Our goal is not to persuade, precisely — it’s to confront,” he says. “At least have a position that’s based on your own critical reflection. I believe [...] that the purpose of art is to lay bare the questions that answers too easily obscure … But ultimately, the thing is that people don’t even ask the question.”

In addition to being thrilled to see students addressing this imperative issue in such a creative way, I’m selfishly also wondering if Mariann, who was quoted in the book alongside David Wolfson (page 51, to be precise), winds up being… theatrically adapted. Or danced to.

What I find perplexing — but okay, I’ll go with it — is that Director Perucci, who uses his “foodie” identity to defend his meat-eating, then goes on to state that Foer’s position in Eating Animals is “clearly stated” that “the only ethical position is to be vegetarian.” So either Perucci disagrees with this idea, and thinks that there is nothing immoral about eating animals, or he is giving himself a get out of jail free card, or perhaps he’s struggling with his rationale. Channeling the hopeful-Jasmin from the beginning of this blog entry, maybe Perucci is on the road to veganism. Hopefully that’s the case, but regardless, I’ll give him more than a few vegan brownie points for having this theatrical vision and making it happen.

Foer’s book has provoked more discussion of the animal issue than almost anything published in recent history. What’s more, it’s widely accepted that UNC-Chapel Hill is supposed to excel at theatre. If I could only reverse the clock and be a young, sprightly (clove-cigarette-smoking, black-clothes-wearing) theatre student again, it’s very possible that this play would’ve been exactly what I needed in order to open my eyes to animal exploitation, and to change. I hope to see more plays that carry the message of animal rights performed at colleges, community centers, and, hell, even Broadway. Maybe I’ll even audition. At the very least, I’ll hand the other auditioners a “Why Vegan?” brochure, so it would not be for naught.

We all have those stories, which is part of why I love both the National Museum of Animals & Society and their upcoming, compelling exhibit. Not only does this immediately bring up for me memories of Rocky, my sweet, patient, brilliant cat who basically raised me, but there have certainly been rescued farmed animals who are not only ambassadors for their kind, but also helped open my eyes about factory farming. I have no doubt you can relate. That is the power, beauty, and mystery of animals.

Rocky, my sweet childhood kitty.

So, I encourage you to spend a few minutes and submit your story to “Souls Awakened.” According to their website:

We are launching an online art and photography exhibit to highlight the various ways in which animals have influenced us. Souls Awakened: The Animals Who Have Shaped Us is a way for YOU and the animal who changed YOUR life to become a part of the bigger picture. Your image and story will contribute to a larger exhibit on the way animals throughout history have changed how we feel, how we think, how we act, and – ultimately – who we are.

To become a part of Souls Awakened, simply send us a digital photograph, drawing, painting, or other visual rendering of one specific animal who shaped you. Then, write us a short paragraph (3-7 sentences) telling us your story: Who is/was this animal? What did s/he do to affect the way in which you view the world? Eligible contributions will be compiled and added to an interactive photo album on our Facebook page and permanently archived on our website. All photos and written entries must be submitted no later than December 31, 2011, 11:59 PM Pacific Standard Time. Participants under age 18 are welcome to contribute with their parent’s permission.

Write in whatever way you feel most comfortable expressing yourself – formally, conversationally, a limerick, anything! Don’t forget to include the animal’s name if you know it. The subject of your entry must be an animal you have had a personal encounter with, so no fictional or celebrity animals seen in movies, books, or television – sorry! The image you send can include you or other humans, but it doesn’t have to. If you choose to contribute a piece of artwork, it must be your own work; please see our Terms & Conditions (at right) for further legal details on photo and artwork submissions.

For more info on the National Museum for Animals & Society, don’t miss our podcast interview with its founder and director, Carolyn Mullin.

Many of us activists, advocates, changemakers, people who care, often look to non-profits to lead the charge of social change. At Our Hen House, we like to tout our organization as “a place to find our way to change the world for animals,” and we hope that our resources and rumination result in the fodder needed to inspire everyone to change the world in our own way, as opposed to solely through top-down organizational campaigns.

It’s not often, however, that we expect business enterprises to do much in the way of social responsibility, beyond sponsoring a little league team or throwing their logo on some community event. After all, civic engagement and world change aren’t necessarily in their mission. Not unless they want it to be, believe in it, integrate it, and act on it, as Bonus Gallery has done. According to their website, “We are committed to ensuring that the gallery does more than just business transactions. As such, a minimum percentage of each sale on this site will be donated to a non-profit organization of the artist’s choice. Please see individual pieces for sale to see the beneficiary of each artist’s choosing. In addition, Bonus has its own designated non-profit organizations. For 2011-2012, the organizations are The Vera Project, Out to Pasture Animal Sanctuary, Community for Youth, Three Wings and Food Empowerment Project.”

I think we can all agree that to forge a livelihood as a generative artist is daring, brave, and, well, potentially not very lucrative. In fact, it’s a career path that is famously so not lucrative, that the word for someone who does it is frequently modified with an adjective connoting that they can’t afford food to eat (“starving artist”). That’s why I’m astounded and moved by the generosity of Bonus Gallery. The gallery’s inaugural slate of artists –Dave Vander Maas, Seth Wood, and Matt Gauck  — are not only all vegan, but two of them have selected animal-related and vegan advocacy organizations among those to receive a cut from the sale of their work. If this artistic and noble undertaking excites you as much as it does me, then take note, they are seeking artist submissions.

It shouldn’t surprise me that artists make great activists. After all, both artists and activists start with a vision in their mind’s eye — a vision for, say, a sketch or sculpture, or an advocacy campaign or protest movement — and create something important and compelling from it. So many of us have talents, skills, and hobbies that can be harnessed to effect change. Maybe you don’t see yourself as the person leading the march or the petition drive. But maybe you can be, or have an in with, the small business owner that would support animal advocates in your community by sponsoring an event, or donating funds, goods or services. If we get creative like Bonus Gallery and their artists, we can show the for-profit world how important and rewarding (and mutually beneficial) it is to utilize whatever resources they can spare to support  animal rights work.

Captain Paul Watson

And now this message is about to get even bigger. Eco-Pirate: The Story of Paul Watson is a documentary that is now hitting the festivals and will soon be gaining wider exposure. According to Variety, the movie has plenty of human drama. While definitely portraying Watson as a hero, it doesn’t hide any of what some people might call flaws, and delves into some of the divisiveness between him and other environmentalists, prominently Greenpeace. But most importantly, and as is clear from the trailer, this human drama serves as the vehicle for telling the story of what is happening to the animals. As such, the “film is certain to attract devotees to the cause.”

Films that tell the truth about animals are the most powerful tool available to activists. It is exciting to find that another one will soon be available to help spread the word.

Commit to a Pit

So, naturally, we were thrilled to hear about an exhibit by artist Robert McClintock opening tonight at his Baltimore Gallery. Not only has McClintock painted wonderful portraits showing the heart, soul, and pure joie de vivre of these fabulous dogs, but what’s more, he is auctioning off a commissioned pet portrait, donating a portion of the proceeds of the sale of his series to the local adoption group BARCS Pit Crew, and inviting pit bulls who need homes to the opening of the exhibit to meet prospective new families. What a guy!

The play, entitled, “Pigeon” (okay, already I am liking this, pigeons being among my very favorite animals), focuses on a conversation between Rothschild and a group of students, just prior to her delivery of a lecture entitled “Animals and Man” at Oxford. Rothschild agonizes over the use of animals in research, while also confronting her own use of lab animals in the past. Enticingly, the play’s description states that “‘Pigeon’ uses dramatic and musical means, as well as audience interaction, to explore the problem of suffering and human indifference to it.”

I’m not sure about the details of Rothschild’s attitudes toward animals and whether I would agree with them all. Notably, however, she has been described as “a passionate advocate for animal rights,” and it is clear that she was a vegetarian and deeply opposed to cruelty to animals. She was also the world’s leading expert on fleas. Sadly, it just doesn’t seem to be that often that a deep regard for the well-being of animals is found in those who study them scientifically. I’m glad to have learned of her work, and I just hope that this play will be performed soon in some place that I can see it. At the moment, the one-woman show is being staged at colleges around the country. On November 8, it can be seen at Western Michigan University.

Most of all, I am so thrilled to see issues and ideas about animals being discussed in theater, and I am also thrilled to see people looking at the lives and work of those who were advocating for animals, swimming against the tide, throughout history. For anyone who is interested in writing about animal issues, shining light on those who built the foundation of our movement is a wonderful way to recognize those people, as well as tell the stories of the animals they sought to protect.

Well, those days are over. I am inspired. I am empowered. I am in awe. And, most importantly, I now know that, like every other worthwhile endeavor, knitting can be a form of activism. Vegan knitting has arrived.

When Jasmin set out to make this video — Vegan Knitting 101 — for VegNews TV with vegan knitting authority Beth Begany, we never imagined just how many beautiful vegan yarns were out there ready to be turned into wearable art. Beth’s skills are truly extraordinary — she not only seems to know every stitch ever invented but she can turn out a scarf in the time it takes me to put on my socks (which she also made, of course) — but even if I never get to her level, I know I will never again leave a project unfinished, wasting away in a drawer, waiting sadly for me to pick it up again. I now know that by finishing my projects and proudly wearing (or gifting) them, I am spreading the word that the beauty and comfort and tradition of knitting, like everything else in our world, can not only be cruelty-free, but will be better than ever once we learn how to leave the sheep in peace.

Mariann and I fell a little in love with Nathalie when we found her book, “Garlic-Onion-Beet-Spinach-Mango-Carrot-Grapefruit Juice,” which we reviewed on episode 70 of our podcast. This is perhaps — no, not perhaps… definitely! — our favorite ever kids’ book. Even just looking around on her fun and engaging website will make you feel like a kid again.

But when Nathalie told us about “Happy Thanksliving!” — an accessible and affordable coloring zine for all ages (even 32-year-olds) that gently challenges some of the ridiculous and antiquated traditions of Thanksgiving, while also celebrating compassion, deliciousness, open-mindedness, and new traditions — we knew that our appreciation for this Nashville-based artist had reached new proportions.

In a recent email to me, Nathalie explained her drive to create this much-needed zine. “Last week I had one of those cartoon light bulbs appear above my head: ‘Aha! The world needs a vegan Thanksgiving coloring zine!’ So I wrote a celebratory, rhyming poem called Happy Thanksliving!, cancelled my weekend plans, and have been drawing drawing drawing. (While listening to your podcast, of course.)”

(Pardon me for leaving in that shameless plug for our podcast. WHOOPS — there I go again!)

Here’s an excerpt:

There isn’t a turkey on our table
and we’re happy to tell you why -
because turkeys are friends (like cats and dogs)
and feathered friends must fly!

We don’t want our friends in cages,
we don’t want our friends to hurt,
we certainly don’t want to eat our friends,
so instead we’ll dig in the dirt!

Potatoes, pumpkins, carrots, CRUNCH!
Greens & beans, oh my-
Thank you thank you apple tree,
tonight we’re having pie!

It’s time for my annoying (to you) disclaimer: My family’s Thanksgivings are always vegan, because my family is by and large vegan (feel free to throw tomatoes at me in order to express your jealousy in a healthy, Lycopene-laden way). BUT I still think that everyone at my table this year will need a copy of Happy Thanksliving! There are so many things I love about this zine. For one thing, I am thrilled with the fact that Nathalie saw a need for it and, rather than just saying “someone should make that,” took it upon herself to do so. Another great feature is that, in addition to exploring why we shouldn’t eat turkeys or other animals on Thanksgiving (or ever), it includes on the back cover fascinating facts about turkeys (did you know that turkeys recognize each other by their unique voices?!?). And, the icing on the cruelty-free cake is that this zine also gently touches on questions about American history as it relates to Native Americans. Since another zine I own, “Why I Hate Thanksgiving” can be a bit too strident for some of my family members to appreciate, it seems to me that “Happy Thanksliving!” will be the perfect recipe for bringing compassion to the table — both for non-human and human animals. Plus, on the off-chance that I need to escape the table for whatever reason (like if someone gets embarrassingly drunk — even if that someone is me), I can simply hide in the corner and color. What, like that doesn’t appeal to you too?

“Happy Thanksliving!” is just $5 (which includes shipping within the U.S.), consists of 20 black and white pages, is printed on 100% post-consumer recycled paper, and is bound with thread rather than staples (“for the safety of the little ones”). You can purchase your copies on the ThoraThinks store.

I, for one, am grateful to Nathalie VanBalen for allowing me to engage my childlike side, while also giving me entertaining resources to spread the gospel of compassion. This zine is a must-have for both your and your favorite child’s bookshelf. In addition to being able to use “Happy Thanksliving!” as an activist tool, it has inspired me to get creative in using my talents to contribute to the greater good. I hope it does the same for you.

This innovative exhibit accomplishes this in surprising ways: “Playful iconic images from the beef industry provide the landscape for a hanging strip of sirloin. A princely fairy tale frog hops across the road before a modern car. Wild mustangs run freely while helicopters hover in the background.”

What I particularly love about “Myths and Logos” is their use of satire, which is something all too lacking when it comes to animal advocacy (and something that Ben Grossblatt of Suicide Food discussed recently on our podcast).

"Beef" by Aaron Albonetti -- now on display at "Myths and Logos"

While I have your attention, though, let me show you my personal favorite:

"Mother Hen" by Sarah Kiser

With this one, “Cruelty Beyond Words,” a close second:

"Cruelty Beyond Words" by Sarah Kiser

According to Sarah’s website (which you must peruse after you finish reading Leigh-Chantelle’s blog entry):

I like to create logos, artwork and videos that are centered
around helping animals and bringing awareness to the
horrifying suffering and cruelty they are subjected to,
whether it be for food, milk, eggs, clothing, leather, etc. …
My goal is to eventually create children’s
books. You are welcome to use these pictures below as
you like, for things like sharing on Facebook, as a profile
picture, to print out for your own projects, to make a
print for your home, for activism, etc.

So, in addition to using Sarah Kiser’s work to inspire us to be creative activists, let’s also share her magnificent work far and wide. Art moves people in mysterious ways; something tells me that Sarah’s can move at least some toward compassion.

And, by the way, if you are intrigued by Leigh-Chantelle’s blog, and want to find out more about what’s going on in Australia, tune in to our podcast this weekend where we will be interviewing her.

That’s because she knows that, whenever I can, I momentarily indulge in shows like American Idol (thankfully, our rabbit ears sometimes pick it up, even if for just a few minutes). At moments like those, I can almost certainly be found sitting on the edge of the ottoman that’s about 1-inch from our TV screen, moving my lips just slightly as the wickedly talented 20-year-old belts her little heart out right in front of me. I refuse to believe that I’ve officially surpassed the age limit of Idol (by, eh-hem, more than just a few years…). In my mind, I’m just waiting to be discovered for my otherworldly singing ability.

This is not me. But it could be. (If she's good, I mean...)

Okay, maybe it’s not otherworldly. Or, if it is, perhaps it’s not of the world where people sing on key. But besides the key issue (incidentally, Mariann has excellent pitch — annoying!), I do have a strong-ish voice. My undergraduate major was, in fact, musical theatre (useful choice, I know). Somewhere inside of me, I’m still that 15-year-old who played Mama Rose in the local teen production of Gypsy. I’m still almost famous.

This is all the long way of explaining how gleeful I am (pun intended) about the upcoming talent show, which is set for this fall (date TBD) right here in New York — the town where my adolescent journals proclaimed, undoubtedly, that I would make it big. If you can make it here…

But I won’t digress again.

What’s particularly special about this talent show is not the fact that, like Idol, the audience chooses the best performance (!), rather, the best part is that the money raised will benefit Darwin Animal Doctors, an incredible organization that preserves the unique biodiversity of the Galapagos Islands. A talent show that’s out there to help with the greater good? I am kind of on overload here. This is even better than 2005 Idol winner (and fellow vegan!) Carrie Underwood’s rendition of “Sin Wagon.”

The talent show is being organized by Daphne Cheng (yep — of the scrumptious and cruelty-free Vérité Catering). To apply, email materials to info[at]veritecatering.com by October 15.

As if I need to say it, I get a little over-excited by innovative fundraisers like this one — especially when they combine the performing arts with animal rights causes. Somebody pinch me (before I break into “Rose’s Turn”).

Don't miss the Vegan Art Show at the Metropolitan Community Church of New York

Described on Facebook by its organizer, Casey Easterling, as “A group art show featuring photography, paintings, illustrations, sculptures, drawings, mixed media and other works by all vegan artists living in NYC and beyond,” this show — which runs through October 28 at the Jackson Hall Art Gallery in Midtown – features works by 19 wickedly talented artists: Antonia Barbano, Pam Curry, Alyssa Diaz, Daniel Dunbar, Shoshana Frishberg-Izzo, Danielle Geist, Thomas Good, Valerie King, Lauren Krohn, Les LaRue, Kerry Lea, Sara Pegarella, Jennifer Powell, Jody Rasch, Karen Stevenson, Greg Straight Edge, Frances Wood, Mickey Z. Zezima and Claire Zeaman. The stunning photos of the opening night, taken by Dallas Phelps, show you a bit more of how fabulous the reception was, and why you need to get your assets to midtown before this exhibit closes.

Though I won’t pretend to be that person who can look at a piece and dissect it in an intellectual or deep way that true art connoisseurs can (like my mom, for instance, proving that the apple can sometimes fall far from the tree), I nonetheless was brought to tears by much of the work, and laughter by other pieces — which, I assume, is what art is supposed to invoke.

Though all the pieces were beautiful, unique, and inspiring in their own right, I would be remiss not to mention the work that got to me the most. Dan Dunbar, co-owner of the deliciously delectable Dun-Well Doughnuts (“Artisanal Vegan Doughnuts Hand-Crafted in NYC”), who was on our podcast not too long ago discussing the vegan business that he runs with the brilliant Christopher Hollowell, had a painting that kind of made me want to commit suicide and become more of an activist, all at the same time (don’t worry, I’m leaning toward the latter — since suicide won’t do anything good for the animals).

"The Last Thing You'll Ever See" by Dan Dunbar

Entitled “The Last Thing You’ll Ever See,” Dan’s piece was a life-size painting of a butcher, seen from the eyes and angle of an animal who is about to be slaughtered. When I called Dan this morning (full disclosure: he’s a good buddy of mine, as were a lot of the artists from the show) to tell him I wanted to write about his painting, he was, in full Dan fashion, totally embarrassed and humble. “It’s hard for me to talk about my artwork,” he admitted, “because it solidifies this idea I’ve had from when I was in art school that the piece should just say what it says, and leave it at that.”

But, in true Jasmin fashion, I pushed anyway, because, as noted, I am not artistically-inclined, and I often need things explained to me outright. (Let’s not even get into Mariann’s frustration when attempting to decipher poetry: “JUST SAY IT ALREADY!,” she often proclaims.)

So, Dan continued. “My approach, not just with this piece, but with my work in general, is for the meaning to be a little bit more embedded than what’s on the surface.” Dan explained that, though we all have perceptions about what it’s like to be a non-human animal, their experiences, as in the one depicted in “The Last Thing You’ll Ever See,” are something none of us are actually privy to. He goes on: “Nobody understands what it’s like to be a pig or a cow or a chicken in these situations, but I think that everyone has empathy, and artwork in particular can be a way of allowing anyone to tap into a certain perception that is not their own.”

With “The Last Thing You’ll Ever See,” the perception that Dan hopes to get across is the very instant that is likely the most horrifying to any animal who is being sent to slaughter — the moment when death stares him or her in the eye. Fully understanding that he can’t possibly truly grasp what that moment is like, Dan said, “I wanted to make a painting that, even though it’s from my imagination… is the last thing they’ll ever see. Hopefully, it just gives people an ‘in’ to think. Even if it’s not an accurate depiction, it is giving people a way to think about what that last moment must be like.”

Seeing this piece in person at the Vegan Art Show, as well as the other breathtaking pieces that are part of this exhibit, is a must.

And it worked. Though I have seen countless videos of animal exploitation, read numerous books, and worked on many campaigns that have educated me about things I have never wanted to know, something about “The Last Thing You’ll Ever See” resulted in a new path to my heart — a deeper awareness of what tens of billions of precious animals go through. It shook me to the core.

What I’m learning about my friend Dan is that he might make awesome doughnuts, and he’s a darn good waiter at the West Village’s vegetarian mainstay, Soy and Sake, but beyond that, he’s got a depth and provocativeness about him, often seen in those in the visual arts. I’ve always admired that from afar. Even when I, myself, was in art school — but for performing arts — I gazed at the glass-blowers and sculptors with a kind of untouchable lust. I want that.

In a recent conversation that happened in our living room, where Dan was undoubtably petting our pit bull, Rose, while attempting to help us capture and release a determined mouse that had once again found its way to our abode (ah, New York City), he mentioned in passing an experiment (or art project? I’m not sure which) he had undertaken back when he lived in Chicago. Dan built a human-sized battery cage, found an abandoned warehouse, and sat, naked, for one week, in this cage, eating only very tiny amounts of a grain mixture. Like battery cage chickens, Dan could not extend his limbs or turn around. His only solace, he told me, was that, unlike the over 9 billion chickens killed in the U.S. every year (that’s about 286 a second), he knew why he was there, and he also had the awareness that the week would end and he would be free. Unlike egg-laying hens — who, at the end of their miserable and shortened lives are murdered — Dan would never have to experience a slaughterhouse worker looming above him, about to end his life unnecessarily so that humans could consume his body. Unlike farmed animals, Dan never had to experience “The Last Thing You’ll Ever See.”

Instead, he paints about it. And hopes that — perhaps because of his art, or someone else’s art, or a brochure, a book, a movie, a delicious vegan doughnut, or a conversation — someone, somewhere, will make the connection, will get it, and will make the noble yet obvious decision to live and let live.

The Vegan Art Show is running through October 28 at Jackson Hall Art Gallery, 446 West 36th Street, between 9th and 10th Avenues, just past Dyer, in NYC. The hours are Tuesday-Friday from 10-5, and Sunday from 10-10:45 a.m. and 8-9 p.m., but it is advised that you call before stopping by to make sure someone is there. The number to call is 212-629-7440. 

***

Animals talk with us. A purr, a tail wag, and a lick on the nose speak as clearly as any words. We take our communication with animals so much for granted that we don’t always realize when it is happening. But we can’t take the resulting intimacy and affection for granted, especially when a beloved companion animal dies.

Unsaid (Center Street/Hachette Book Group, 2011), a new novel by attorney and animal advocate Neil Abramson, plumbs the depths of relationships between human and non-human animals, and does so much more: it challenges the legal treatment of non-human animals as human property; explores the ethical questions raised by vivisection and by euthanizing companion animals; illustrates the similarities between humans and other animals; and draws tears over and over. Have tissues handy.

Unsaid by Neil Abramson

Helena, a veterinarian who has just died, narrates Unsaid, chronicling the reactions to her death of her grieving husband and her houseful of rescued animals. Her husband David, a corporate lawyer not particularly close with Helena’s menagerie, works through his grief by building relationships with her animals and carrying on her work protecting chimpanzees from torturous vivisection.

If the love that Abramson’s human and non-human characters have for each other is the heart of this novel, its mind is an exploration and critique of the consequences of animals’ status as property under the law. For the most part the law does not consider their wellbeing and does not allow lawsuits intended to protect them from suffering. Like a chair or a car, the relevant legal question regarding non-human animals is which human owns them, not how that human treats them.

The real-life results of that body of law is the profound suffering of an unthinkable number of animals. Unsaid focuses on animals used in research, many of whom live their entire lives locked in small cages, suffer repeated invasive and unnecessary surgeries, are deliberately sickened with diseases including HIV and cancer, and get no treatment for pain. The book also touches on the cruelty some people inflict on their companion animals and the prolonged terror, pain, and deaths of animals hit by drivers who blithely continue on their way.

Though upsetting, this book is also refreshing. Rarely does a novel acknowledge our bonds with and savage treatment of the billions of nonhuman animals under our control, let alone make that subject its unifying theme. Unsaid is not without faults: the dialogue is sometimes stilted, and some lengthy expositions of animals’ plight read more like political advocacy than like a novel. But these weaknesses are easily outweighed by the number of people who will learn about the need for legal rights for animals precisely because the information is presented in the popular format of a novel and not the niche medium of a screed. Abramson’s novel is both a good read and an eye-opener.

hahahahahahahahaha

Though many years have passed since those leisurely Sunday morning breakfasts, one thing that has stayed with me has been my love of comics (okay, and of french toast). In addition to wrapping presents with the funnies whenever I can (hey, it’s eco-friendly, not to mention wallet-friendly), I try to take out a break to read them — either in the paper or online — whenever I remember. One of my favorite cartoons is, of course, Dykes to Watch Out For by Alison Bechdel, which was one of the earliest depictions of lesbians in pop culture, and frequently covered social justice issues too. Though I don’t believe that the Sunday Star Ledger circa 1986 published that (and besides, I was too busy reading Family Circus), I love that Alison used humor to create a deeper awareness of current events from the other side, the ones that mainstream news venues don’t go near.

Similarly, as we’ve previously mentioned here on our blog, the work of Dan Piraro, creator of Bizarro, does the same for animal rights. His syndicated cartoons, which run in 250 papers, frequently feature explicit animal messages, allowing the reader to have a guffaw and perhaps a revelation, all at the same time. Right after he won the coveted “Cartoonist of the Year” by the prestigious National Cartoonists Society, Dan — who is also on our advisory board — appeared on our podcast to talk all about that, and about the role of art in animal advocacy.

Another cartoonist who frequently puts animal messaging in his work is Larry Trepel, whose work can be seen in such publications as National Lampoon, both the original humor magazine as well as their book collections. One thing I love about Larry is that, in addition to publishing animal-themed cartoons in popular venues that clearly reach non-”animal people,” he also donates his original work to organizations such as Farm Sanctuary and Mercy for Animals. Larry hopes that his next project will be to create t-shirts with animal cartoons on them, and donate the profits to several animal rights groups. Below is a cartoon that Larry created entitled “Some Animals.”

"Some Animals" by Larry Trepel

Those who care about animal issues have so much to be angry and depressed about. Every now and then, it’s nice to laugh too. And thanks to cartoons like the ones Dan and Larry create, not only do we have the opportunity to laugh, but it’s just possible that, for other people who might come across their work, the messages will run just a little bit deeper than, say, Family Circus did for me.

This event sounds rad. I wish I were in AU.

This is like Sesame Street meets ethics class. I’m particularly appreciative of Renata’s inclusion of animal issues in her outreach, and the sense of accountability that she’s teaching kids. In order to foster a healthy, vibrant next generation — and in order to have any hope for the planet and the animals — the next generation will need to step up to the (cruelty-free) plate. When seeds of compassion and — dare I say it, activism — like this are planted into our children’s worldview, perhaps we can all breathe just a teeny tiny itty bitty bit easier.

And we’ve got to hand it to Renata for combining her passions for music, storytelling, family issues, healthy eating, the planet, and the animals, and creating “Go Green with Renata.” That right there epitomizes using your talents and skills to speak up for animals, in a creative way.

Stay up to speed on the DVD and all of Renata’s happenings on her website. And be sure to watch the short video below which gives a more detailed look into this new resource for green-minded kiddies.

Colleen Patrick-Goudreau

Colleen, who is the author of several books, including one of my favorites, the recently published The 30-Day Vegan Challenge (seriously, GET THIS for those in your lives who are flirting with — or open to — veganism), will also be signing books at this unique and inspiring event (and keep in mind, Christmahanukwanzikah is not that far away). In describing “Animals in the Arts,” Colleen notes that the art she’ll be focusing on was not created by animal advocates. Instead, she says, the creators of the pieces are “artists who cannot but reflect in their art what is arguably the most fundamental relationship in our lives; that between humans and non-human animals.” That, boys and girls, is a brilliant and astute observation. I cannot wait for this event.

“Animals in the Arts” will be held on Tuesday, October 18, 2011, at 6:30 p.m., at Alexander Gray Associates, which is located at 508 West 26 Street, #215. RSVP to rsvp [at] alexandergray.com, and learn more  here.

If this subject is of interest to you, be sure to also explore our Art of the Animal section, which features videos, etc., highlighting the work of artists who speak up for animals through their art-form. The most recent addition is our video featuring vegan comedian, Myq Kaplan.

Also, as a reminder, the vegan art show that we blogged about last April, will be opening later this month — Wednesday, September 21 — at 8 p.m., also here in NYC (which is apparently the place to be for creative expression as it relates to animal issues). More info on that can be found on the official Facebook page for the event.

Go art! And go vegan.

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Film Analysis: Rise of the Planet of the Apes

By Loredana Loy

“Somewhere in the universe, there must be something better than man.”

– Taylor (Charlton Heston) in the original Planet of the Apes (1968)

An animal liberation revolution is happening on the silver screen. Rise of the Planet of the Apes (2011, directed by Rupert Wyatt) provides the ultimate liberation fantasy as it traces the genesis of a new era on our planet, while telling the story of a special kind of leader — Caesar – a chimp born in an animal testing facility to a genetically enhanced mother.

Rise of the Planet of the Apes

While perhaps the misanthropic message is not quite as powerful as the one in the original installment of the “Apes” franchise, the movie pulls no punches about the heartlessness of the species that currently, if perhaps not permanently, is in charge of Planet Earth. Not only are the human animals not the central characters here, but they come off poorly, to say the least, when contrasted with the chimpanzees. Will (James Franco), the scientist whose discoveries about intelligence enhancement as a possible solution to Alzheimer’s are the instigation for the experiment leading to Caesar’s birth, is a caricature of what the real hero of the movie, Caesar, represents in terms of loyalty, love, and trust. Will only reluctantly saves Caesar in the first place, and does not hesitate to test on a new group of chimps even after he has formed a bond with Caesar. He also refers to another victim of testing labs, Koba, as “it,” even though he knows Koba is a male. Even to the extent he might have some regard for Caesar, as well as for the other apes, it clearly doesn’t extend to other species. We see his family gorging on bacon and eggs at breakfast. But compared to the callousness of the shelter guards, Will is a model of compassion.

However, while this movie presents a powerful critique of the ugliness of human behavior toward animals, it also offers much more than that. An ode to freedom and nature as the true home for any animal, Rise of the Planet of the Apes raises issues regarding animals that are timely for those of us in the real world. Throughout, an animal-centric point of view is explored and promoted. Naturally, the prominent issue is that of animal experimentation (although showcased in its PG version). But other less central issues are touched on as well — the keeping of apes as “pets,” the status of animals as property, and the issue of shelters supplying animals to testing facilities for profit. Perhaps the underlying fundamental theme of this dark tale concerns the effects that greed and the pursuit of profit (at all costs) has on animals, and, ultimately, on humans.

One of the most widely touted animal-positive features of Rise of the Planet of the Apes is the refusal to use live apes in the making of the movie, and it is, indeed, heartening to see this story about chimpanzee exploitation told without itself contributing to the suffering it decries. However, although the movie gets much right about the problems with humans’ attitudes toward animals, it is, unfortunately, itself guilty of speciesism. The movie not only uses live horses, but allows its ape hero to ride a horse in a scene where he is fighting his human enemies, thus begging the question: Will the apes not only replace us, but also continue our exploitation of other animals? Perhaps the writers wanted to be faithful to the original Planet of the Apes, which did indeed portray the simian society as using horses to hunt humans. Whatever the reason, it was disappointing to see this type of exploitation of one species portrayed so casually in a movie that so aptly addressed the evil exploitation of another.

But, flaws aside, there is no question that Rise of the Planet of the Apes is, ultimately, a paean to animal (or at least ape) liberation. Thus, the real question becomes — can a Hollywood blockbuster serve as a tool for social change? In the short time since it opened in theatres, the movie has been seen by an estimated 22 million people worldwide and has managed to create a media stir that goes far beyond Oscar predictions for its truly extraordinary special effects, reaching issues ranging from evolution, science, and animals in entertainment, to policy, race, and endangered species. The movie has piqued the interest of everyone from Peter Singer to republican Representative Roscoe Bartlett, whose op ed in The New York Times called for an end to all experiments on apes. Certainly animal protection organizations have seized the opportunities presented by the movie’s box office success and media attention. Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine issued a call to action entitled “The Real Planet of the Apes.” People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals increased its focus on animal testing discourse in conjunction with the film’s release, and various other groups are organizing screenings and protests.

Can this blockbuster truly change hearts and minds about animals? In-depth research would be needed to assess the effects of the movie on attitudes and behaviors, but one thing is certain — Rise of the Planet of the Apes has brought much-needed attention to some animal issues.

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Also be sure to catch our Hollywood correspondent, Ari Solomon’s, review of Rise of the Planet of the Apes, which can be heard on our 83rd podcast episode. 

Loredana Loy

Loredana Loy is a long-time animal liberation activist and a graduate student at New York University. She is studying the animal liberation movement through sociological and cultural lenses. Her research is focused on cinema as a tool for promoting animal liberation messages.

Myq, not Mike

So, without further ado, we bring your our latest installment of the Our Hen House Art of the Animal Series, featuring Myq Kaplan. Art of the Animal explores the work of artists of all kinds who speak up for animals through their artform, and we’re thrilled to feature Myq, the first official funny person for our series. (Special thanks to Culture & Animals Foundation for making this possible.)

Photo at top of blog: “hahaha” embroidered shirt from Sacred Waste