To be able to forgive, we must come down from the citadel of pride, from the strong hold of hate and anger, from the high place where all emotions that issue from one's sense of being wronged shout only for vengeance retaliation.
—John Hess
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To be able to forgive, we must come down from the citadel of pride, from the strong hold of hate and anger, from the high place where all emotions that issue from one's sense of being wronged shout only for vengeance retaliation.
—John Hess
Remembering John Hess
Remembering John Hess
My JUMP CUT co-editor, John Hess, died on Friday, July 14, 2015 from complications following his living with Parkinson’s Disease. John had been in severe decline for the past month and his end was clear. Friends and family had opportunities to see him these last months. He died at home with caregivers present, as he wished. John’s wife, Gail Sullivan, died of cancer a few years earlier after a career as a labor organizer with the Teamsters for a Democratic Union and the California Nurses Union. John is survived by his two sons, Andy and Sean and their families. A memorial service will be held in the future in the Bay Area.
John will be remembered by many people as an important labor organizer, particularly for part time and contingent teachers in the college and university system. While at San Francisco State University, he participated in the successful effort to unionize the faculty in the California State University system. Thereafter he worked to organize the contingent faculty (full and part time temporary) and served in several elected and appointed leadership positions in the California Faculty Association (CFA). After returning to California from the East Coast in the late 90s, he worked as a staff member for the CFA for seven years, especially responsible for organizing the contingent faculty. He was honored for his pioneering and exemplary work this spring at a national meeting in Los Angeles. He was able to attend and receive the personal well wishes of the national crowd attending. A recognition of John’s work in teacher organizing can be found here: http://www.ejumpcut.org/currentissue/LastWordHess/index.html
John will also be remembered as a teacher. He taught as a TA in Comparative Literature at Indiana University, where we first met as grad students. He also taught as a lecturer at Sonoma State, at San Francisco State (for 14 years), and at American University and the University of Maryland. He also taught as an Associate Professor at Ithaca College. Some of John’s happiest memories were of his former students who had gone on becoming involved in film, political activism, and community engagement. I was with him many times when a former student would come up and say how he had touched their life. This made him immensely proud and pleased. John saw his work as a teacher as encompassing much more than the traditional academic classroom. He was active in the 1970s in the East Bay Socialist School where he taught introductory courses on Marxism. With the Berkeley JUMP CUT collective of the 70s and 80s he shared the practical knowledge of putting out a radical publication and developing a politically informed film aesthetics. While there were scheduled weekly meetings, in fact the house was a 24/7 locus of political filmmakers, critics and students, and assorted people passing through town who carried on a running dialogue about politics, media issues, and life in general. His work with lecturers in the Cal State system was aimed at teaching them the most effective strategies and tactics to gain empowerment. Here his work was truly ground-breaking. John moved the lecturers from being a kind of accidental after-thought in Cal State system unionizing to its rightful place as representing the majority of the classroom teachers and being closely linked to the concerns of students and communities.
John’s contribution as an editor to JUMP CUT’s progress and development was fundamental. We first talked of the need for a new political film publication our last year in grad school in Bloomington Indiana. Our partners got teaching jobs and we were trailing them and thought we had time on our hands. So it seemed sensible to start a film publication even though we were over 2000 miles apart and had to communicate mostly by mail (no email, and long distance phone calls were prohibitively expensive at that time). Crazy idea, but we did it with the help and encouragement of others.
John came to his left politics not from theory or sudden passion but from life experience. On graduation from college he joined the Army and went through military language school, learning Russian. His Cold War post was in rural Germany listening to Soviet tank drivers maneuvering in East Germany. (Ironically, they were like him, away from home in a foreign country.) He also learned German from locals in bars, something that horrified his German teachers when he went back to graduate school for formal instruction. He returned to the US with the student and anti-war movement underway, but his approach was as a veteran. When he arrived in the Bay Area in the early 1970s, he circulated in the fluid movement of New Left activism, radical political filmmaking, and a new critical intellectual climate. Engaging with new political movements and forms such as feminism, gay/lesbian perspectives, as well as the established post Civil Rights black and Chicano movements, and viewing new films from around the world produced the need for a better understanding.
Reading in socialism and Marxism provided a crucial perspective. But John was also fascinated with the actual lived experience of socialism. He travelled in East Germany on research during graduate school and returned around the fall of the Berlin Wall with an interest in the lives of the people he met above all else. Similarly with his visits to Cuba and Nicaragua and El Salvador: the people, not the politicos, celebrities or manifestoes were what mattered.
John and I shared that leftist learning experience along with others on the JUMP CUT staff. I think our mutual stubbornness kept us bonded together, but also our shared values and complementary interests. As an editor John was always clear, direct, and pragmatic, measuring submitted articles against his own undergraduate students horizons. What would they get out of an article, could they understand the argument? Equally important John had a comfortable and determined view of the economic realities of self-publishing. For decades he kept us afloat and moving along running the business end of JUMP CUT along with the pragmatics of pasting up and laying out an issue, and mailing it off to subscribers and bookstores.
Perhaps this reflected his upbringing in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. His father was a businessman and his mother returned to her Mennonite roots later in life. The combination of practicality and a plain and simple life marked his daily behavior and his spirituality that often took the form of meditation, fasting, and retreat. But that was balanced with a love of activity: sports when he was younger, running and walking when older and for a long stretch canoeing as part of a club. He sometimes arrived from a week on the rivers needing massage and a hot tub and laughing about how he was getting too old for this.
John’s personal life involved several marriages (and divorce) to remarkable women. Through it all he was a proud father of his two sons, Andy Hess and Sean Sullivan. Andy grew up mostly in Germany to which his mother returned, but spent summers with John and went to college at San Jose State. A very talented electric bass musician, Andy has played with blues, rock and jazz musicians around the world. John loved attending Andy’s shows and supported his artist son’s goals and choices. John met Sean well into Sean’s boyhood and stood by him during some stormy and trying times (for all concerned) as Sean found his way, emerging as a successful businessman involved in local area moving and a rare items record store. When Sean’s mother, Gail Sullivan was diagnosed with cancer, John worked alongside her in the decade-long medical process, and Gail in turn shared her own understanding when John was diagnosed with his own progressive debilitating disease.
As a writer and critic John’s strongest editorial commitments were to the politics of Hollywood film, typified in his classic article on Godfather 2 which ran in an early issue of JUMP CUT. And equally important was the actual practice of political filmmakers. He quickly developed a great interest in Latin American film and filmmakers, travelling to Cuba, to Nicaragua and El Salvador and to Mexico, and meeting filmmakers who passed through the Bay Area. John was especially sensitive to the artist’s difficulty of seeing a film project through to the end and dealing with the recurrent issues of organization, finance, the group effort, distribution and exhibition as well as the politics and aesthetics of a particular media work.
Parkinson’s is a progressive and irreversible disease, different for every individual. John was diagnosed about 6 years ago and was conscious of planning as much of his life as possible from that point on. When the disease kept him from being able to write and progress on some of his projects he was bitterly sad at not being able to complete a project he knew was important. He continued to be an active part of the JUMP CUT editorial team as a critical reader until about a year ago, and I had the opportunity to review his archived JUMP CUT materials which we expect to go to an appropriate site. An extensive set of interviews he conducted with East German filmmakers in the later 1970s and early 1980s has already been deposited in an archive at the university of Massachusetts. A series he did with US independent documentary political filmmakers, essentially people who had been involved nationally with the aftermath of the New Left Newsreel group will also be archived shortly.
John has been my closest male friend through my adult life. We bonded over shared values, shared politics, and a shared commitment to trying to change the world for the better. As a teacher and critic John wanted to help people understand the world so they could be smart in changing it. As an editor he wanted to help writers connect with diverse readers. As a political activist he wanted to empower people at the grassroots level. By necessity we had to meet in person, and that began in the summer of 1974 with me heading out to Berkeley to hash out the pragmatics and idealist goals we had for JUMP CUT. That annual extended time together, supplemented by his trips to Chicago and connecting at conferences and festivals, welded us into a tight bond. But rather than critiquing manuscripts and solving layout hassles, or listening to way too much of KPFA talk radio (one of John’s addictions), what I remember most is John’s incredible generosity.. When I had to pack up and leave my Chicago household, he came in the middle of a bitter winter to help, knowing my packrat ways would have to be tamed, and with plenty of boxes and tape. When I took my last drive from Chicago to Oregon in 2009, he joined me travelling across the upper Great Plains with a soundtrack of Rightwing Radio (we provided a running sarcastic response) but mostly jazz and rhythm and blues (the one audio experience we always agreed on). Last fall we did another trip, drastically short due to John’s physical limits, to Salinas to visit the new Steinbeck museum, and over to Monterey where John attended language school for a year back in the 60s. These close personal times are a treasure to me. John was the finest man I’ve ever met.
Another fancy dinner
So to end the week of eating no animal products, it was time to make another elaborate, multi-course dinner, except entirely vegan. Lo’s only request was that it be Asian-inspired. Which is handy enough, since that’s one of the primary sources of non-stupid vegan cuisine in the first place.
So the first course (once again, there are no pictures, because I am not the dude that takes pictures) was the unorthodox choice of a stir-fry. Culinary historian, food critic, and super-cranky dude John Hess* is unilaterally opposed to spicy appetizers, insisting that spicy foods deaden the palate and render the eater unsuited for the remainder of the meal. I find that I like to start spicy and then take a course or two to take it down from there. Since the other person I’m cooking for in these situations, Lo, is as into spicy food as I am, I generally go spicy.
In this case, the stir-fry started out simply (it was replacing, after all, the traditional idea of serving a salad at the beginning of the meal). Some oil got flavored with diced bird chilis, some minced ginger and some garlic. Then, in order, were fried onions, celery, carrots and finally some asparagus. The result was then tossed with a little bit of sesame oil and some soy sauce. The result was a spicy, sweet, aromatic dish that was also satisfyingly savory.
The second course was a soup, designed to play on basically the same flavors. I made a broth of mushrooms, lemongrass, ginger, garlic and leeks, which I poured over a mixture of minced squash (for sweetness), beech mushrooms (for some earthier notes and also a chewy textural note) garlic (for depth), minced bird chilis (for spice) and miso (for body). It was garnished with sliced green onions and chopped peanuts, which added a necessary crunch to the delicious, fiery soup.
Having brought the meal to the edge of what was easily-handled in terms of spice, I backed off by a course of dumplings. Inspired in both placement and composition by the traditional-Italian pasta course, the dumplings were regular rice-paper dumplings that I filled with a mixture that was based on peas (which are starchy enough to bind, but sweet enough to poke out through the rest of the mixture), and included some chili flakes, garlic and untoasted sesame seed oil. The dumplings were pan-fried to get some crunch on the outside. On the plate with them was a salad of raw red pepper slices, pickled radishes and carrots (pickled in a brine of mustard seeds, chili flakes, sugar and salt) and salt-pickled celery**. The salad was left mostly as-is, being dressed only with a little bit of toasted sesame oil. The dumplings were served with two sauces, one a basic dipping sauce of soy sauce, toasted sesame oil, lime juice, and hoisin, and the other a kimchi puree (kimchi and untoasted sesame oil). The cool, starchy dumplings reset the palate, and the pickled vegetables and sauces cut their sweet, solid flavor nicely. This was probably my favorite course of the six.
With everything brought back down, the next course was the “seafood” course, which of course meant a salad of wakame, pea sprouts, salt-pickled squash and onions, and brine-pickled oyster and beech mushrooms (this brine was of salt, sugar, lemongrass, garlic and onions). It was dressed with a vinaigrette of red wine vinegar, sesame oil, soy sauce, horseradish and chinese mustard. Served alongside it were trumpet mushroom “scallops”.
The “scallops” were made by slicing the stem of the mushroom into basically scallop-shaped portions, and then marinating them in soy sauce, vegetable oil, red wine vinegar and brown rice syrup. They were marinated alongside some leeks that were cut into the same shape and seared with them***.
The fifth course was a slice of tofu which had been marinated in soy sauce, harissa, brown rice syrup, red wine vinegar and sesame oil, then broiled under a low broiler for about ten minutes per side. This dried out the outside nicely, giving it an admirable crust, but leaving the inside creamy and moist. Tofu is a lovely ingredient when it’s treated as its own thing, and not as means to an end, and this was an excellent preparation of it. It was served atop stir-fried mei fun noodles and stir-fried scallions. It was the simplest of the courses, and also the one that left the diners the fullest.
Dessert, then, was a simple rice pudding of short-grain rice, almond milk, nutmeg, cardamom, currants and apple cider syrup which was both nicely not-too-sweet and satisfyingly soothing after the array of flavors and textures that preceded.
* who is, legitimately, someone whose work I admire a great deal, especially being at the very forefront of the crusade against over-packaged fake “food” masquerading as something people should eat. He was against factory production and the celebrity “chef” that mostly ignored the idea of technique in favor of making something superficially impressive out of pre-made ingredients (with a special hatred of Craig Claiborne). He also crusaded hard against nursing home conditions.
** salt-pickled celery is such a revelation in pickled vegetables that I immediately became angry that more people don’t make it for everything all the time.
*** this exists at the intersection of Lo’s love for leeks and my love of elaborate refernce jokes, and is, in fact, inspired by Top Chef, which once saw a particularly dumb contestant go home for “visioning” a sliced leek as a scallop. Turns out they taste pretty good, but are fussy and dumb to work with in that form.
The Changing Shape of Cinema: The History of Aspect Ratio
John Hess traces the evolution of the screen shape from the silent film days through the widescreen explosion of the 1950s, to the aspect ratio of modern digital cameras.
I <3 aspect ratios
The Newspaper of Record recorded a century of the crimes, follies and misfortunes of mankind, generally as a faithful voice of the Eastern establishment. It supported all its wars, hot and cold. It supported witchhunts during and after World War I and temporized with the one after World War II; it fudged the menace of Hitlerism and played down the Holocaust…. At the cutting edge of major events, it could be found against women's suffrage, against unionism (always), against minimum wages and national health insurance…. Like the rest of the business establishment, it preferred corrupt politicians to liberal reformers.
NYT Pays Tribute to Hastings by Attacking Him After Death
When a journalist dies, how can you tell if they've had a career that's upheld the proudest journalistic traditions of challenging the powerful and fearlessly exposing the truth? The New York Times will attempt to piss on that career in the journalist's obituary. The Paper of Record did that with John Hess, himself a Times veteran and one of the paper's most incisive critics. So Michael Hastings is in excellent company when his New York Times obituary (6/19/13) went out of its way to discredit the reporter's best-known story. If I live long enough to write the New York Times' obituary–which I might–I'm going to include this: "The Newspaper of Record recorded a century of the crimes, follies and misfortunes of mankind, generally as a faithful voice of the Eastern establishment. It supported all its wars, hot and cold. It supported witchhunts during and after World War I and temporized with the one after World War II; it fudged the menace of Hitlerism and played down the Holocaust…. At the cutting edge of major events, it could be found against women's suffrage, against unionism (always), against minimum wages and national health insurance…. Like the rest of the business establishment, it preferred corrupt politicians to liberal reformers." Now, that's not me saying that–that's John Hess. But he was right.
-Jim Naureckas, "NYT Pays Tribute to Michael Hastings by Attacking Him After Death"