Posted on Aug 1, 2001

Amie Csiszer

Amie Csiszer (pronounced “caesar”) '02 has already seen and conquered wild art, wild animals, and her senior thesis. Is there a common theme? Says she, “I love to explore – to see new and different things. And it's even more exciting to share.”

An anthropology-biology major, Csiszer took her desire to explore to New York City last year, where she tracked down graffiti artists for a research project. Although graffiti artists tend to be difficult to contact and tie down to commitments, Csiszer used the Internet to locate a few who were willing to be interviewed and to show her around. Camera and sketchpad in hand, she went to the city to do field work.

Looking at the art itself at first, she began thinking about its meaning and cultural assumptions, commercialism in art, and the political nature of public space. (Putting up a billboard has quite different connotations from writing graffiti, says her adviser, anthropology professor Ian Condry. It's socially acceptable to pay for a sign, he notes, but “if you create something beautiful on the street, it's considered vandalism.”)

Most interesting to Csiszer was finally understanding the subculture and how graffiti writers see themselves.
“People have so many different ideas about graffiti. It's really about identity in art. It ceases to be graffiti if it's in a gallery. It doesn't have to be illegal, but it does have to be big, and on a wall or other large surface where everyone can see it. If there were public walls set aside for graffiti, they'd use them.” She presented her research, including photos and sketches, at the Steinmetz Symposium last spring.

Her desire to understand other cultures took her to Kenya last fall, where she decided to do her senior thesis on the impacts of tourism – “now some Kenyans' only source of income,” she says. When Kenya was a British colony, the Western way of categorizing identity led to stronger tribal associations. After Kenyan independence, tribal identities, such as Maasai and Kikuyu, stuck. With no sense of national unity, “It's almost as if there is no such thing as a Kenyan,” she explains. Tourist expectations have reinforced tribalism, but increasing intertribal conflict has resulted in decreases in tourism. “It's a Catch-22,” says Csiszer.

While tourists at five-star hotels enjoy hot showers and swimming pools, “there's a drought throughout Kenya – animals are dying, people are losing crops. The land-based way of life is eroding as grasslands become national parklands and land becomes otherwise unusable,” she says. “It will take a big wakeup call for any meaningful change.”

Csiszer learned about the Kenyan landscape while completing an internship with the Kenya Wildlife Service. She worked at the soon-to-open Nairobi Safari Walk, on the site of the Nairobi Animal Orphanage, a popular wildlife facility and long a refuge for wild animals found abandoned, orphaned, or injured throughout the country; these semi-tame animals can't be re-released into the wild. She worked with the keepers, caring for the animals – from cheetahs to lions to “a sedated buffalo,” which she and another student had to pick up and move onto a flatbed truck. Csiszer, who plans to be a veterinarian, also made the rounds with veterinarians from the KSPCA (Kenya Society for the Protection and Care of Animals).

She's thinking about taking a year off before veterinary school, hoping to intern for a wildlife organization. Having already worked at the Philadelphia Zoo and the New Jersey State Aquarium, she loves working with animals, and just being out of doors. And one day, she says, she'd also love to return to Kenya.