When describing motion along both the horizontal and vertical axes, languages from different families express the elements encoding verticality before those coding for horizontality (e.g., going up right instead of right up). In light of the motor grounding of language, the present study investigated whether the prevalence of verticality in Path expression also governs the trajectory of arm biological movements. Using a 3D virtual-reality setting, we tracked the kinematics of hand pointing movements in five spatial directions, two of which implied (...) the vertical and horizontal vectors equally (i.e., up right +45° and bottom right −45°). Movement onset could be prompted by visual or auditory verbal cues, the latter being canonical in French (“en haut à droite”/up right) or not (“à droite en haut”/right up). In two experiments, analyses of the index finger kinematics revealed a significant effect of gravity, with earlier acceleration, velocity, and deceleration peaks for upward (+45°) than downward (−45°) movements, irrespective of the instructions. Remarkably, confirming the linguistic observations, we found that vertical kinematic parameters occurred earlier than horizontal ones for upward movements, both for visual and congruent verbal cues. Non-canonical verbal instructions significantly affected this temporal dynamic: for upward movements, the horizontal and vertical components temporally aligned, while they reversed for downward movements where the kinematics of the vertical axis was delayed with respect to that of the horizontal one. This temporal dynamic is so deeply anchored that non-canonical verbal instructions allowed for horizontality to precede verticality only for movements that do not fight against gravity. Altogether, our findings provide new insights into the embodiment of language by revealing that linguistic path may reflect the organization of biological movements, giving priority to the vertical axis. (shrink)

Previous research using immersive virtual reality (VR) has shown that after a short period of embodiment of White people in a Black virtual body their implicit racial bias against Black people diminishes. Here we tested the effects of some socio-cognitive variables that could contribute to enhancing or reducing the implicit racial bias. The first aim of the study was to assess the beneficial effects of cooperation within a VR scenario, the second aim was to provide preliminary testing of the hypothesis (...) that empathy and political attitudes could contribute to implicit bias about race, while the third aim was to explore the relationship between political attitudes and empathy. We had (Caucasian) participants embodied in a Black virtual body and engaged either in a cooperative (Coop group) or in a non-cooperative (Neutral group) activity with a confederate experimenter embodying another Black avatar. Before and after VR, we measured participants’ implicit racial bias by means of Implicit Association Test (IAT) and their perceived closeness toward the confederate experimenter. Before VR we also assessed participants’ political attitudes and empathy traits. Results revealed that, as compared to the Neutral group, the Coop group showed lower IAT scores after the social interaction. Interestingly, in the Neutral but not the Coop group the perceived closeness toward the confederate experimenter was associated with the initial racial bias: the more the participants reduced their distance, the more they reduced their IAT score. Moreover, reported traits of empathy and political attitudes significantly explained the variance observed in the initial implicit bias, with perspective-taking, empathic concern, and personal distress being significant predictors of the IAT scores. Finally, there was a relationship between political attitudes and empathy: the more participants considered themselves as left-wing voters, the higher their perspective-taking and empathic concern scores. We discuss these findings within the neuroscientific and social cognition field and encourage scholars from different domains to further explore whether and under which conditions a given manipulation for reducing racial bias could be efficiently transposed in VR. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy of Music Education Review 12.1 (2004) 80-83 [Access article in PDF] Response to Yiannis Miralis, "Manos Hadjidakis: The Story of an Anarchic Youth and a 'Magnus Eroticus'" Lenia Serghi Ionian University, Corfu Manos Hadjidakis and his work are like his song, "O Mythos," for they take you from reality to fantasy and bring you back again. For my generation Hadjidakis was a myth with substance, since he was (...) a real person and his work represented our reality.The first time I heard of Hadjidakis was in relation to his song, "The Children of Pireas," that won him an Oscar for Best Song in 1960-61 as the main theme of his music for the film, Never on Sunday. The first record, a 45-single in the early 1960s, aroused a strong emotional response in the youth of the time.My next and most important experience with Hadjidakis' music was in London during the International Theatre Festival in the Spring of 1964. The Art Theatre of Greece under the Direction of the acclaimed Karolos Koun gave its first performances outside Greece. They presented Aristophanes' comedy, The Birds, and the Aeschylean tragedy, The Persaes. After forty years these performances are still topics of discussion in theater and musical circles. The performance of The Birds took the audience by surprise. The strong, vivid rhythm with the superb [End Page 80] melodies and the chorus filling the stage with its movements and dance gave a new perspective to the production of ancient comedy and drama. The audience was exuberant and the clapping went on without end. It was the unveiling of a new world of music for the theater, a music which could create strong emotions.Perhaps one of the most important works of Hadjidakis is the cycle of songs, The Megalos Eroticos-Magnus Eroticus, composed in 1972 for two voices, choir, and twelve instruments. The song cycle consists of eleven songs based on the lyrics of Greek poets from antiquity till the present time, like Sappho, Euripides, Solomos, Sepheris, Gatsos, Elytis, and Kavafis. Included in the collection is the famous poem, "S'agapo" [I love you], by Myrtiotissa, one of the important women poets of the twentieth century, which according to Hadjidakis was his inspiration for writing Magnus Eroticus. As he says: I think I succeeded [in creating] a beautiful piece of work, and deeply, it belongs to her as a whole. If Magnus Eroticus belongs to somebody it belongs to the memory of Myrtiotissa.1In Magnus Eroticus the combination of lyrics and music is at the highest level of sensibility and the musical style of each song is superb. Music follows the verse to express its deepest meaning while maintaining its uniqueness. In 1973, Pantelis Voulgaris made Magnus Eroticus into a film of the same title.Without doubt Hadjidakis was one of the troubadours of love; in fact he considered himself as a tragoudopoios. Etymologically tragoudopoios comes from the words tragoudi (song) and the verb poio (make, create), and is the root of the word poieses (poetry). A tragoudopoios could be a follower of the rhapsodoi of Homer's time, or the troubadours of medieval times who created songs.In my view, the comparison made by some critics of Hadjidakis' songs with those of Schubert and Brahms is not so successful, especially for the songs written in the 50s, 60s, and 70s, songs that were very popular and represented the reality of Greek life of that period. Similarities to these composers may exist in his later work of the 80s, when his style of art song had become more sophisticated.As a person and composer, Hadjidakis himself could be considered a Magnus Eroticus. I am not sure, though, that he could be considered an anarchist, as Miralis suggests. As Hadjidakis used to say, "[P]erhaps I would have been an anarchist if I didn't have my mother." I would say he was more a lover of democracy in its wider sense.One could say, perhaps, that Hadjidakis was an anarchist in spirit... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 20 (2000) 321-323 [Access article in PDF] Frederick J. Streng Book Award David Loy Interview The 1999 winner of the Frederick J. Streng Book Award is David R. Loy, professor on the Faculty of International Studies at Bunkyo University in Chigasaki, Japan. Professor Loy received the award for his book, Lack and Transcendence: The Problem of Death and Life in Psychotherapy, Existentialism, and Buddhism, published by Humanities (...) Press (New Jersey) in 1996. The book places Western patterns of thought developed in tandem with Christian ideas into dialogic contact with Buddhism. It is thus a very Buddhist book, but a signal contribution to the practice of Buddhist-Christian dialogue. Buddhist-Christian Studies asked David about his writing of the volume.Buddhist-Christian Studies: Why did you write this book?David Loy: It was the product of an existential crisis, both intellectual and personal. My father, who had always been healthy and full of life, suddenly became ill with pancreatic cancer. Then my Zen teacher Yamada Koun had a bad fall that led to his death a year later. Not long before that my relationship with him and the Sanbo Kyodan had become somewhat problematic. This threatened my 'spiritual ground'. Finally, I was without a job. All this gave me plenty of time not only to sit intensively but also to read widely everything I could find on death and related issues.Did you think that sitting and studying would lead to a book?I didn't know. I could feel something gestating. I realized something was needed in this area. I was (and still am) very impressed by the last two books of Ernest Becker, but despite their brilliance his notion of death-denial is a little off-center from a Buddhist perspective. Fear of death projects our problem into the future, while the groundlessness of our sense-of-self accounts better for our sense-of-lack right here and now.What was the final trigger for doing the book?Another Zen teacher suggested that I try to write a Zen teisho [sermon or talk]. I sat down but after a few lines so many other thoughts began to bubble up that I couldn't write them down fast enough. There was no obvious or immediate logical connection among them, but they kept coming. This went on for about two, almost non-stop, days. After that the thoughts slowed down. I read over the notes I'd written, which led to more ideas, and then I began to perceive their relationship. After five days or so I had a detailed outline for the book, and the real work began. [End Page 321]What kind of response to the book, both positive and negative, have you received?There have not been many reviews, but they have generally been positive. It's not an easy book to evaluate: it brings together many different thinkers and traditions in order to address many different issues. In the process it attempts what is almost a grand synthesis of Buddhism, existentialism, and psychotherapy around the notion of our 'sense of lack', which I argue motivates us all. This involves close readings of Freud, Heidegger, Nietzsche, Nagarjuna, and many others. Unfortunately, the print is small and not easy to read, the cover is ugly, and the price is too high. For all these reasons readers have my sympathies! But there are some readers for whom the book really 'clicks'. I'm pleased that it seems to work on the existential as well as the intellectual level, for such people.After several years of reflection, would you write it any differently today?Yes, probably. The first thing I would do is take out the last chapter "Transcendence East and West," which was an afterthought and doesn't really fit in very well. As published, the chapter takes the concept of 'lack' into a new dimension which needs to be worked out much more carefully than I did in the book. It argues that, in place of the usual East-West dichotomy, it is more insightful to view South Asian Indian- influenced cultures as in some ways... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 20 (2000) 263-265 [Access article in PDF] Book Review The Silent Dialogue: Zen Letters to a Trappist Monk Zen Spirit, Christian Spirit: The Place of Zen in Christian Life The Silent Dialogue: Zen Letters to a Trappist Monk. By David G. Hackett. New York: Continuum, 1996. 157 pp. Zen Spirit, Christian Spirit: The Place of Zen in Christian Life. By Robert E. Kennedy. New York: Continuum, 1997. (...) 144 pp. Two very different books recently published by Continuum seem to complement each other in unexpected ways. Father Kennedy, Catholic Zen Teacher, Jesuit Priest, openly shares with us his own journey into unknowing and self-emptying. As he notes in his preface, "what I looked for in Zen was not a new faith, but a new way of being Catholic that grew out of my own lived experience..." (p. 13). David Hackett, now an associate professor of religion, freely shares his youthful search for genuine spiritual experience. His book is drawn from correspondence from the 1970s with Father Thomas Keating and the monks of the St. Joseph's Abbey during his two-year stay in Japan. Hackett says in his Prologue, "I became a Catholic through Zen meditation..." (p. 17). In both cases, rather than threaten or diminish their Christian faith, Zen practice served as a wonderful "can-opener," prying off lids of rigid ideas and concepts, allowing the depth of the spirit to be more deeply experienced.Part I of Zen Spirit, Christian Spirit, addressed primarily to the Christian reader, offers an excellent introduction into Buddhism, Zen, and the essential elements of practice. In this section Kennedy has reflected the questions Christians have asked during the years he taught at the Zen Community of New York. His teacher there, Bernard Tetsugen Glassman Roshi, clarifies in the foreword Father Kennedy's position as a lay Zen Teacher who remains a Catholic priest. Kennedy weaves a consistent thread of Christian contemplative teachings side by side with the Zen teachings, making very visible the fact that Zen reminds us, as do Eckhart, Merton, and many other contemplatives, that the highest point of our Christian mysticism is reached not in the experience that I know God or that I love God--not in any I-Thou experience--but in the experience that God lives in us (p. 36).The book has been structured according to the four stages of human growth: knowledge, love, purification, and union. These stages have been likened to the stages of alchemy: lead, quicksilver, sulphur, and gold--these four elements provide Kennedy with his titles for the four parts of his book. This very structure makes clear that the goal of both Christian mysticism and Zen practice is transformation of being. With a firm foundation of knowledge and teachings from both traditions, then it is time to actually enter the fire of practice itself. I am reminded of the stages of practice outlined in the ancient Chinese Zen ox-herding pictures. The herdsman sets out with some knowledge, longing for his True Nature. He sees traces--footprints in the sand--and a deep yearning, the quicksilver of desire and inspiration, begins to ache in his heart. As he begins to see and experience his own True Nature, he must pass through the fire of struggle, surrender, deep letting go, until finally both herdsman [End Page 263] and ox disappear, self-emptying is complete in Union. There are no shortcuts. Jesus and Buddha both have invited us to practice radical poverty. Kennedy states, "The poverty of not clinging, not projecting, not finding shelter, and not seeking parallel lives, can lead us to the deepest intimacy of all" (p. 114).Kennedy received his early formative Zen training under Koun Yamada Roshi, a beloved and deeply appreciated teacher, in Kamakura. His Roshi offered a style of practice which utilized the koan (rationally unsolvable question or paradox) to provoke the student into a direct experience rather than an explanation or idea about it. Kennedy Sensei has shared his insight into many... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy of Music Education Review 12.1 (2004) 80-83 [Access article in PDF] Response to Yiannis Miralis, "Manos Hadjidakis: The Story of an Anarchic Youth and a 'Magnus Eroticus'" Lenia Serghi Ionian University, Corfu Manos Hadjidakis and his work are like his song, "O Mythos," for they take you from reality to fantasy and bring you back again. For my generation Hadjidakis was a myth with substance, since he was (...) a real person and his work represented our reality.The first time I heard of Hadjidakis was in relation to his song, "The Children of Pireas," that won him an Oscar for Best Song in 1960-61 as the main theme of his music for the film, Never on Sunday. The first record, a 45-single in the early 1960s, aroused a strong emotional response in the youth of the time.My next and most important experience with Hadjidakis' music was in London during the International Theatre Festival in the Spring of 1964. The Art Theatre of Greece under the Direction of the acclaimed Karolos Koun gave its first performances outside Greece. They presented Aristophanes' comedy, The Birds, and the Aeschylean tragedy, The Persaes. After forty years these performances are still topics of discussion in theater and musical circles. The performance of The Birds took the audience by surprise. The strong, vivid rhythm with the superb [End Page 80] melodies and the chorus filling the stage with its movements and dance gave a new perspective to the production of ancient comedy and drama. The audience was exuberant and the clapping went on without end. It was the unveiling of a new world of music for the theater, a music which could create strong emotions.Perhaps one of the most important works of Hadjidakis is the cycle of songs, The Megalos Eroticos-Magnus Eroticus, composed in 1972 for two voices, choir, and twelve instruments. The song cycle consists of eleven songs based on the lyrics of Greek poets from antiquity till the present time, like Sappho, Euripides, Solomos, Sepheris, Gatsos, Elytis, and Kavafis. Included in the collection is the famous poem, "S'agapo" [I love you], by Myrtiotissa, one of the important women poets of the twentieth century, which according to Hadjidakis was his inspiration for writing Magnus Eroticus. As he says: I think I succeeded [in creating] a beautiful piece of work, and deeply, it belongs to her as a whole. If Magnus Eroticus belongs to somebody it belongs to the memory of Myrtiotissa.1In Magnus Eroticus the combination of lyrics and music is at the highest level of sensibility and the musical style of each song is superb. Music follows the verse to express its deepest meaning while maintaining its uniqueness. In 1973, Pantelis Voulgaris made Magnus Eroticus into a film of the same title.Without doubt Hadjidakis was one of the troubadours of love; in fact he considered himself as a tragoudopoios. Etymologically tragoudopoios comes from the words tragoudi (song) and the verb poio (make, create), and is the root of the word poieses (poetry). A tragoudopoios could be a follower of the rhapsodoi of Homer's time, or the troubadours of medieval times who created songs.In my view, the comparison made by some critics of Hadjidakis' songs with those of Schubert and Brahms is not so successful, especially for the songs written in the 50s, 60s, and 70s, songs that were very popular and represented the reality of Greek life of that period. Similarities to these composers may exist in his later work of the 80s, when his style of art song had become more sophisticated.As a person and composer, Hadjidakis himself could be considered a Magnus Eroticus. I am not sure, though, that he could be considered an anarchist, as Miralis suggests. As Hadjidakis used to say, "[P]erhaps I would have been an anarchist if I didn't have my mother." I would say he was more a lover of democracy in its wider sense.One could say, perhaps, that Hadjidakis was an anarchist in spirit... (shrink)