Press Release: The Projected Image: A History of Disability in Film

Check this out!  Full press release is here.

Release Date: 7/24/2012

TCM to Examine Hollywood's Depiction of People with Disabilities in The Projected Image: A History of Disability in Film in October  
Lawrence Carter-Long Joins TCM's Robert Osborne for Historic Month-Long Film Exploration, Presented in Collaboration with Inclusion in the Arts  
Turner Classic Movies (TCM) will dedicate the month of October to exploring the ways people with disabilities have been portrayed in film. On behalf of Inclusion in the Arts, Lawrence Carter-Long will join TCM host Robert Osborne for The Projected Image: A History of Disability in Film. The special month-long exploration will air Tuesdays in October, beginning Oct. 2 at 8 p.m. (ET).

TCM makes today’s announcement to coincide with the 22nd anniversary of the signing of the Americans with Disability Act (ADA) on July 26. And in a first for TCM, all films will be presented with both closed captioning and audio description (via secondary audio) for audience members with auditory and visual disabilities.

The Projected Image: A History of Disability in Film features more than 20 films ranging from the 1920s to the 1980s. Each night's collection will explore particular aspects, themes, or types of disability, such as blindness, deafness and psychiatric or intellectual disabilities. In addition, one evening of programming will focus on newly disabled veterans returning home from war.

TCM's exploration of disability in cinema includes many Oscar®-winning and nominated films, such as An Affair to Remember (1957), in which Deborah Kerr's romantic rendezvous with Cary Grant is nearly derailed by a paralyzing accident; A Patch of Blue (1965), with Elizabeth Hartman as a blind white girl who falls in love with a black man, played by Sidney Poitier; Butterflies Are Free (1972), starring Edward Albert as a blind man attempting to break free from his over-protective mother; and Gaby: A True Story (1987), the powerful tale of a girl with cerebral palsy trying to gain independence as an artist; Johnny Belinda(1948), starring Jane Wyman as a "deaf-mute" forced to defy expectations; The Miracle Worker (1962), starring Anne Bancroft as Annie Sullivan and Patty Duke as Helen Keller; One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975), with Jack Nicholson as a patient in a mental institution and Louise Fletcher as the infamous Nurse Ratched; The Best Years of Our Lives (1946), the post-War drama starring Fredric March, Myrna Loy and real-life disabled veteran Harold Russell; and Charly (1968), with Cliff Robertson as an intellectually disabled man who questions the limits of science after being turned into a genius.

The Projected Image: A History of Disability in Film also features several lesser-known classics ripe for rediscovery, including the atmospheric Val Lewton chiller Bedlam (1946), the intriguing blind-detective mystery Eyes in the Night (1942); A Child is Waiting (1963), with Burt Lancaster and Judy Garland; the British family drama Mandy (1953); and a bravura performance by wheelchair user Susan Peters in Sign of the Ram (1948).

Each year since 2006, TCM has dedicated one month toward examining how different cultural and ethnic groups have been portrayed in the movies. Several of the programming events have centered on Race and Hollywood, with explorations on how the movies have portrayed African-Americans in 2005, Asians in 2008, Latinos in 2009, Native Americans in 2010 and Arabs in 2011. TCM looked at Hollywood's depiction of gay and lesbian characters, issues and themes in 2007.

"The Projected Image: A History of Disability in Film is a valuable opportunity to take a deeper look at the movies we all know and love, to see them from a different perspective and to learn what they have to say about us as a society," said Osborne. "We are very proud to be working with Inclusion in the Arts on this important exploration. And we are especially glad to have Lawrence Carter-Long of the National Council on Disability with us to provide fascinating, historical background and thought-provoking insight on how cinematic portrayals of disability have evolved over time."

"From returning veterans learning to renegotiate both the assumptions and environments once taken for granted to the rise of independent living, Hollywood depictions of disability have alternately echoed and influenced life outside the movie theater," said Carter-Long, who curated the series. "Twenty-two years after the passage of the ADA and over a century since Thomas Edison filmed 'The Fake Beggar,' TCM and Inclusion in the Arts provide an unprecedented overview of how cinematic projections of isolation and inspiration have played out on the silver screen – and in our lives. When screened together, everything from The Miracle Worker to One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest reveals another layer where what you think you know is only the beginning."

RIP: Howard Leland Rice (1932-2010)

[visual description: Howard L. Rice in a wheelchair, holding a microphone; he's an older white man wearing glasses and a grey suit]

It's been a rough month for disability obituaries. We lost historian Paul Longmore (1946-2010), of course, and activist Barbara Knowlen (1941-2010), and I've recently learned of another: Rev. Howard L. Rice (1932-2010), former chaplain and Professor of Ministry at the San Francisco Theological Seminary, and once the moderator of the Presbyterian Church USA (the annually elected head for the whole denomination). Rice died August 8.

Rice (pictured at left) was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis as a young man, and used a wheelchair or crutches much of his adult life. (Later in life, the MS diagnosis was changed to spinal cord damage.) As a minister, he experienced first-hand the barriers that church buildings and their congregations present to disabled people, especially to disabled worship leaders. I heard him speak at a conference once, about deciding that he wasn't going to accept speaking invitations at inaccessible churches anymore--it wasn't practical ("If we can't go, we can't come," he noted, on the problem of accessible restrooms), and it wasn't tolerable on any other grounds either. When he did speak from an accessible pulpit once, he declared, "I don’t believe you have to preach from a pulpit. But it’s nice to have the choice."

Disability Blog Carnival #69 is up NOW!

And has been up for a while--but I was away from the internet on a family vacation and couldn't post about it until now. Thanks to Kali at Brilliant Mind, Broken Body, who has gathered a nice collection of links around the theme of "distance." Go have a read, link away, and leave a comment too.

Next month's edition will be hosted by Astrid at Astrid's Journal, who writes to me that the "theme will be identity, and the deadline for submissions will be Sept 21." Watch for that carnival on Sept 24. And submit a great link! A community of contributors makes the hosting job more enjoyable.

Vacation pictures? Sure! An accessible self-catering lodge in rural Scotland, ours for a few days of a family trip--worked for us, anyway:


[Visual description: exterior of a stone one-story building with a long ramp to the door; a picnic table and a patch of green grass are nearby.]

June 3: The Andrew Heiskell Library (b. 1895)

The New York Public Library is marking the 115th anniversary of the founding of the Talking Book and Braille Service in the US and in New York City. It started in 1895 with 57 braille books, a free circulating library set up by a blind man, Richard Randall Ferry (1839-1906). Ferry had been a prosperous hat manufacturer before becoming blind in 1891; he had the resources and the drive to get something like this started. By the time of Ferry's death (according to his obituary) there were 10,000 volumes.

In 1909, Ferry's assistant on the project, and one of the library's trustees, educator Clara A. Williams, wrote a plea in the New York Times, defending New York Point System against other braille formats. Her letter points to the state of flux such efforts faced just a century ago: "It seems a dreadful thing to me, for those living in New York State, and New York City, to allow any persons to come in from other States with a system of print which can be proved to be inferior, and tell us what we should do in our public schools, &c.... Miss Keller is certainly a wonderful woman, but she would, it seems to me, be biased in favor of any type for which her friends stood and it would be most natural for her to take the stand chosen by her teacher..." There were also concerns about whether the library would include a Bible (when "nearly every reader at the library has been presented with a Bible and has it in his own home").

The collection became part of the NYPL in 1903, and expanded over the years, in size, in format, and services offered. The technological history of recordings in the twentieth century is reflected in how audio books were prepared for blind readers over the years: hard discs, flexible discs, cassettes, and digital files have all taken their turn, in tandem with the devices required to play them.

November 5: Pierangelo Bertoli (1942-2002)

[Visual description: color photograph of a man in a wheelchair, at a microphone, wearing a black jacket, gesturing with his right hand.]

"....solo alla morte non c'é rimedio..."

Italian singer-songwriter Pierangelo Bertoli was born on this date in 1942, in a working-class family in Modena. When he was four years old, he survived polio, and came to use a wheelchair. He taught himself to play guitar and recorded his first album in 1973. He was a popular figure in Italian music until his death in 2002. His last album, 301 guerra fa (2002), was a collaboration with his son Alberto, also a musician.

Bertoli was a political lyricist, noted for songs about the environment and peace, and worked for the removal of architectural and social barriers for disabled people in Italy. He appeared in an Italian television spot demonstrating the inaccessibility of phone booths. Wish I could find that on YouTube, but meanwhile there are plenty of performance videos of Bertoli, if you're curious.

Accessibility and Inaccessibility at Nay Aug Park

While we were in Scranton PA on this month's trip, we visited the new accessible treehouse in Nay Aug Park. Very dramatic! The walkway through the trees lands you in a wooden structure hovering 150 feet above the gorge. Maybe not a good spot for those bothered by heights, but it's a beautiful design. (There's a brief video of the treehouse here, and another video view here. Neither has audio beyond the ambient sounds of the site.)

Less beautiful was the inaccessibility at the nearby Everhart Museum. To get in, you ring a bell at the emergency entrance in back--using a button that's likely too high for many chair users to reach. A guard comes and opens the door, and you use an elevator from there. But to get out? Good question! There is no bell on the inside of the same door. My son and I waited inside the (very hot, glass-enclosed) vestibule for a while, shouted "hello? guard?" a few times, and eventually had to resort to pantomime to ask family members on the outside to ring the bell for us. I asked the guard if we missed something, if there was some way to alert him that we wanted to leave, or some other exit we should use. Nope. Lovely. I was a volunteer at the Everhart in my teens; I'm disappointed -- but not exactly surprised -- that so little has changed there in the past thirty years.

More Flickr Finds: Wheelchairs at the Bronx Zoo, c1910

So, the photo above (from the Library of Congress uploads to Flickr Commons, from the Bain Collection of news photos taken 1910-1915) depicts Mrs. Field, obviously a well-to-do matron, in what appears to be a wicker wheeled chair, pushed along an outdoor path by an older African-American man in a suit and bowler hat.

Was Mrs. Field a wheelchair user?

Not so fast. Check out this other photo from the same collection:

The woman hurrying past the camera is Mrs. Charles Dana Gibson (of Gibson Girl fame), but look behind her, to the right--chairs like Mrs. Field's, two of them, unoccupied, lined up, with a uniformed attendant nearby. What does the sign say behind Mrs. Gibson? "New York Zoological ...Administrative Building No Admittance" and some smaller print. The Bronx Zoo was called the New York Zoological Park at this time. So, we're at the zoo, and those chairs are apparently available (as a courtesy? as a rental?) for zoo visitors. Much like some zoos and amusement parks have available today.

Hmmm! Were the pathways at the zoo made to accommodate these conveyances? Mrs. Field obviously didn't mind being photographed on wheels during her visit--no stigma? Or, no stigma if it's perceived as a luxury rather than a necessity? Did other zoos and parks have such provisions in the 1910s? When did this trend start? What happened to these chairs? Were any smooth paths reconfigured with steps after the chairs went into disuse--in other words, did a wheelable zoo become less accessible for a time?

Would love to know more about the Bronx Zoo wheelchairs of the 1910s. Anyone?

Antennae for everyone

Antennae for everyone
Originally uploaded by pennylrichardsca

Another post for Kay at the Gimp Parade--unlike some theme-y bathroom signage, the wheelchair user in this sign is included in the antenna fun. (Found at Disney California Adventure, in the "Bug's Land" area.)

"Accessible" swingset

"Accessible" swingset
Originally uploaded by pennylrichardsca

This is the new swingset in my neighborhood. See the nice new blue accessible swings? Very nice, but... See how there's no wheelable way to GET to the two blue accessible swings? Sigh. So close.

Swing time

In the picture, my son and I at the dedication of a new accessible swing at a neighborhood park today... We like to show up for these things if we're available, because it's good for the city officials who approved the funds, and the park crew who will maintain the site, to see who will benefit. To see that it's not just window-dressing, that there are real kids who will enjoy the new equipment.

It's also the one and only day that you can assume the accessible swing will be in working order--in fact, this one had already needed a minor repair before the photo opportunities commenced. (Why do carers let kids mistreat playground equipment? It's not actually indestructible, and it's never inexpensive.)

Thanks again to the Hermosa Beach folks who worked for this swing (and who are working for further accessibility features in other parks), and to photographer Doris Beaman for the lovely picture she took.

Sensory Friendly Film Screenings

Got this email through a local group:

Subject: Autism Society of America and AMC Entertainment to Host Films

AMC Entertainment (AMC) and ASA have teamed up to begin testing a pilot program to bring families affected by autism and other disabilities a special opportunity to enjoy their favorite films in a safe and accepting environment on a monthly basis.

"Sensory Friendly Films" premiered across the country last August, and are continuing with a special showing of the new film Bolt for December.

For these movies the lights are up a little, the sound is down, there is no "silence is golden" rule, and people can bring in special dietary snacks.

An interesting experiment, similar to Parent Movie Mornings at some theatres on weekday mornings, where babies are welcome instead of frowned upon, secure stroller parking is offered, and the volume is down. And no doubt any such realistic accommodations are a godsend for many families.

But once again, the sensory-friendly screenings are targeting families and showing kid movies at this pilot stage, rather than imagining there are adults who might also like to "enjoy their favorite films in a safe and accepting environment" that includes lower volume and BYO snacks. These conditions don't have to be "special" or just for children--they might be appreciated by a much wider audience if the option were offered.

Simi Linton on disability and architecture

More on the subject; one of my local reading groups is discussing Simi Linton's My Body Politic next month, so I happened to run across this passage just after writing yesterday's post. Linton is describing the steps at Columbia University:

My earlier body had been trained to walk such steps and my eyes to appreciate their grandeur. I grew up thinking, although I'm sure I never said it out loud, that steps are either a pragmatic solution, a means to connect spaces of different heights, or they are an aesthetic element, added onto a design because it makes the building more beautiful. But now, with their function lost to me, their beauty began to fade, and I saw something I hadn't noted before--attitude. Steps, and particularly these steps at Columbia, seemed arrogant. The big buildings sitting up on top said, "The worthy can climb up to me, I will not kneel down and open my doors to those below me."... The design of steps forbids the wheelchair user, and the designer of these steps, deliberately or unwittingly, provided us only a solitary and difficult route to get where those steps took all others. (p. 57)

A Milestone for Tar Heel Reader

It's not the biggest library in the world, but it's one of the very coolest. Tar Heel Reader is

a collection of free, easy-to-read, and accessible books on a wide range of topics. Each book can be speech enabled and accessed using multiple interfaces (i.e. switches, alternative keyboards, touch screens, and dedicated AAC devices). The books may be downloaded as slide shows in PowerPoint, Impress, or Flash format.

according to the welcome page. The idea is to provide new readers of all ages with appropriate, interesting, accessible content--because new readers who are 12, 17, 23, or 41 don't necessarily want to read about puppies and kitties, right? Students and teachers and parents can also create books for the site, using the wealth of Flickr images or their own uploads. Tar Heel Reader is a collaborative creation of the Center for Literacy and Disability Studies and the Department of Computer Science at UNC-Chapel Hill (thus the name).

Recently, Tar Heel Reader passed 1000 books in its ever-growing archive. About 5% of those, I wrote. I was never able to track back and figure out where I first heard of Tar Heel Reader--on a blog or news feed, no doubt, but which? But I remembered Karen Erickson from my own UNC days (we were doctoral students at the same time in the School of Education), and I knew that she did cool work, so I joined the effort very early on. I wrote several of the first twenty books in June, and I keep adding one or two a week. They're a joy to construct, an excellent challenge, to make interesting books within the limits of the form. My topics have ranged around, from food and clothing and color themes, to books about voting, the first amendment, gargoyles, calligraphy, Shakespeare, the solar system, mirrors, and drag racing. I'm still working on making a story--I've made a few attempts so far, but I'm not a fiction writer and it shows.

If you know a beginning reader who would enjoy accessible picture books on such a range of subjects, send them to Tar Heel Reader. In just their first twenty weeks they've had visits from over 12,000 computers worldwide. It's that cool, and it's getting better every day.

Chess Lesson in the Park

[Photo description: In a grassy park on a sunny day, shaded by trees, a man in an orange shirt is teaching a chess lesson to a small group of children--other adults and children are standing nearby.]

All the best things happen at the accessible playground, right? Saturday at Aidan's Place in Westwood, young volunteers from Chess Tutors (a division of People Making Progress) were there to teach a free basic lesson to anyone who would listen, of any age or ability. (My son is the fluffy-haired kid on the hip of one of the tutors, Neisha, at left. I think she's Neisha Ellington, who is also a local unsigned hip-hop artist. She danced him through the songs.)

They taught some of the history of chess and rap-like chants, some of them in Spanish, to remember how to set up the board, what each piece can do, all that. It's hard to see, but they brought a large-scale chess set for demonstrating--each piece is about the same height as a seated child, but light enough for a child to lift or push into place; and a hanging banner showing the chessboard, with clear pockets for moving the pieces (on cards) around. They did a nice job with making chess interesting, using various media and models, to meet a very diverse group of kids wherever they were.

The Art of Real Life [Carol Marfisi]

I was among thousands of museum goers who attended the Frida Kahlo exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. It is an understatement to say that the works were compelling and heart wrenching. Having a bit of anthropological DNA in my blood, I always tend to not only appreciate the main exhibit but the experiential exhibition of the observers. It is quite intriguing to watch how people respond to not only the main feature in a physical space but also how they interact with one another, but mostly strangers as we journey through different historical and cultural planes.

There were obviously many reactions to Frida Kahlo’s life and works. My co-observers focused on different levels and features of the artist and her works. Some were solely concentrated on the aesthetic and technical aspects of her paintings. Others were immensely intrigued by her culture and social dynamics which influenced her creativity. Oddly enough, I didn’t overhear anyone comment on her disability. Her life and brilliance of her works may very well have overshadowed that particular element of her character and life.

I would say that the experience was memorable for me, but rather typical as far as museum expeditions go. It was not until I exited the museum that the real unveiling of life began. Wanting to go into the city, I began to board a tourist bus. With relative naivety, I said to the driver, “Will you please deploy the wheelchair lift?” I should have known when he looked a bit confused and annoyed that drama was right behind. It took 45 minutes for this untrained driver to learn from a tourist from California how to operate the wheelchair accessible equipment. The driver, besides being frustrated and embarrassed, was being harassed by a string of drivers who were behind the tourist bus. They honked and yelled as if that would expedite the process. Many people including the museum staff were visibly upset at this interruption in their schedule. They were people with places to go and people to see and this one stranger in their midst was holding up progress.

Part of me felt bad for the inconvenience but a larger part of me wondered how much the tourists who saw the exhibit were sensitized by their understanding of Kahlo’s life. Did they have a glimpse into the disability experience and how that may have impacted Kahlo’s emotional creativity?

[Image description: the painting "Broken Column" by Frida Kahlo, 1944]

Road Trip: DisTHIS, New York!

[Image description: Sitting casually in director's chairs in front of the screen in the Firehouse's third floor screening room, are Mat Fraser and Lawrence Carter Long. Sitting between them in her own wheelchair is Liz Carr.]

Melania Moscoso and Mike Dorn traveled up to New York last Wednesday to check out the disTHIS! 2nd Anniversary Criptastic Celebration. The evening included a little bit for everyone, including some salacious film shorts (featuring special guests Mat Frazer and Liz Carr from the BBC Ouch! Podcast) and the East Coast debut of Bård Breien's "The Art of Negative Thinking." The Norwegian director's feature film debut is the story of Geirr, his girlfriend Ingvild, and their encounter with the "municipal positivity group" [must be a Norwegian thing!] Geirr has remained reclusive and bitter since his accident, turning to his heavy metal music for relief, and Ingvild is willing to try anything to break him out of his despond. But as it turns out, the positivity group and their leader have their own issues to work through. And Geirr is just the one to help them learn the negative arts.

Lawrence Carter Long organizes the events for the Disabilities Network of NYC and takes particular care - reviewing new film for works of interest. The audience has come to expect works that work creatively against the standard conventions of disability in film. Even works deriving inspiration from the "freak show" canon are considered, as long as they work to reinvent this time-tested genre. International films that lend insight into contrasting cultural frameworks (such as the Spanish films that Melania has been reviewing) are also very popular. We can't wait to see what Lawrence selects for this coming Halloween!

[Image description: Melania and another audience member listening in on the post-screening discussion.]

It was an easy and fun trip. Several busses a day run between between Philadelphia and New York. Over the years I've taken one of the various "Chinatown buses" several times, picking it up at the Greyhound bus terminal near the Convention Center in Philadelphia, and catching the return bus from the north side of the Manhattan Bridge abutment. But today Melania and I checked out a new alternative, the cheaper and more relaxing and accessible Bolt Bus, that leaves from 30th Street between Walnut and Market in West Philadelphia, and delivers the traveler at 6th Street between Canal and Grand in Soho. Arriving early (due to the Bolt Bus's limited schedule) we had a chance to check out some of the local sights, including the beautiful and fully accessible Mulberry Street Branch Library (another view) at 10 Jersey Street [Between Lafayette & Mulberry Streets].

Visit their website to learn more about the disTHIS! Film Series and plan your next trip to New York. Sign up on Yahoo for regular email updates, or "friend" them in MySpace. There are some exciting events being planned in conjunction with the upcoming meeting of the Society for Disability Studies, June 18 - 21 at Baruch College, the City University of New York, so stay tuned!

This is for Kay at Gimp Parade

[Photo description: Signage outside a men's room shows two beige plaques--one, a symbol dressed in Western gear labeled "Men," and the other below is the usual access symbol; both are posted on a stone surface]

Disabled guy doesn't get a hat, neckerchief, chaps or boots, either.... spotted at Knott's Berry Farm last fall.

(There's an equivalent sign on the ladies' room, photo posted here.)

Glenn Votes (or, access to the polls, 1940-style)

[Image description--a black-and-white news photo shows a man carrying another man across wooden planks leaving a building, with signs indicating that it's a polling location.]

This image is from Changing Times: Los Angeles in Photographs, 1920-1990, an online exhibit of Los Angeles Times photos, hosted by UCLA Libraries. I've drawn from this archive before, but this photo in contrast (or comparison) to so many photos from the polls this last week caught my attention anew. Glenn Switzer, the man being carried above, was a veteran disabled in World War I. To vote in Duarte, California, in 1940, he had to be carried by another man, Walter Howard. The ground looks muddy; those wooden planks are a makeshift sidewalk for pedestrian voters, but they're insufficient for Switzer's independent access, and they probably kept a lot of other folks from even trying to vote that November.

Amy Votes

[Image description: woman with grey hair, long skirt, and walker, smiling over her shoulder, on a ramp near a sign that says "Vote Here"]

From the New York Times Polling Place Photo Project--this is Amy Pitt, voting (with a broken ankle) today in Rochester NY. Amy Pitt is (or was, in 2004) active with Metro Justice of Rochester, "an independent, grassroots, progressive membership organization, seeking a peaceful and just society....[working] for human rights, total equality, and economic and environmental justice by raising community awareness and engaging in non-violent direct action."

More accessibility-related images in the project (so far, I'll keep adding links as I find more): "Stairway to Democracy" by Brian Scott (San Francisco CA); "Handicap Access" by Kirk Bravender (Chicago IL); "QH Sign" by Anonymous (Jacksonville FL); "Privacy" by Daniel Goscha (Urbana IL); "Vote Here!" by Anonymous (Minneapolis MN); "Other Arrangements" by Eric Talerico (Sierra Vista AZ); "Primary Distortion" by Marcus C. Emerson (San Diego CA); "A Chance for All" by Anonymous (Knoxville TN); "South Philadelphia" by Anonymous (2006 Midterms, Philadelphia PA); "Birmingham, Alabama" by Louise McPhillips; "Easy Access" by Nancy Wynn (Glastonbury CT); "Access to the Hawaiian Democratic Caucus" by Bruce Behnke (Pearl City HI).

[last updated 20 February 2008]

Super Tuesday

[Image description: Polling place sign, with arrow, outdoors on a brick walkway.]

In twenty states, tomorrow is a presidential primary (and it's also Mardi Gras--so vote first, then party). How accessible is your polling place? The New York Times Polling Place Photo Project isn't primarily intended to document accessibility, but by collecting images of polling places this election year, they may inadvertently create such documentation. So take a picture tomorrow, or whenever you vote; and if you can, show any access features or barriers for disabled voters.

UPDATE 2/5: My polling place is a senior center, so the wheelchair access is fine.