A recent Instagram post from Tokyo 2020 on an official Olympics-inspired collaboration with local artists at Narita Airport inspired me to loo k back at a pivotal period of Games art in the 1980s.

The practice of art commissions to celebrate an upcoming Games started in earnest with Munich 1972, but Sarajevo 1984 and Los Angeles 1984 are particular Olympics that stood out for its connections with noted modern artists like Andy Warhol, Richard Diebenkorn, David Hockney, and Robert Rauschenberg.

Let's revisit the work.

Sarajevo 1984

Lazar Vujic commissioned a group of noted contemporary artists, including Warhol, Cyril Twombley, Hockney and more, to create works for an "Portfolio Art and Sport" exhibit at his Visconti Art Gallery ahead of the Winter Games. Official posters for the Games were produced. 

Los Angeles 1984

L.A. '84 was certainly noted for its overall custom look, and organizers also commissioned their own portfolio of artists. 15 artists' works were re-purposed for posters as well.

​Although Warhol wasn't asked to contribute to the 1984 Summer Games project, he made his mark on his own. His partnership with Jean-Michel Basquiat on Olympics (1984) became the second-most expensive piece of their collaboration sold at auction.

The duo also worked on Olympic Rings (1985). Both pieces followed the usual style of their collaboration:; Warhol provided a recognizable base, which Basquiat later "defaced".

Tokyo 2020 continues the legacy, with its own selection of artists' work, many of which persist in an abstract, inventive presentation of Olympic enthusiasm.

​Which pieces will become iconic reminders of the Games?

The Games: A Global History of the Olympics (2016)
A Quick Book Review

There seems to be a lack of new, independent publications on the history of the Olympic Games ahead of Tokyo 2020 this summer, so I revisited David Goldblatt's book, The Games: A Global History of the Olympics to help fuel my fandom.

It certainly did. The Games is an impressive read on the origins of Olympics, and takes the reader through the 120 years of the modern Games up to 2016, allowing appreciation for how far the Games have come - and the remarkable resilience of the Olympics as an institution.

Recounting the efforts of Pierre de Coubertin - inspired by various athletic contests such as the Cotswold Games, Much Wenlock Games, and Zappas Olympic Games, as well as, of course, the ancient Olympics - to bring together a modern version of Olympics, Goldblatt paints a vivid picture of de Coubertin's sense of sports as integral to a well-rounded education.

From that inspired start, the Games have persevered. Despite challenges from competitive "socialist" games, Nordic Games, separate women's games, and various bureaucracies and political challenges, the Olympic Games have grown from a sideshow to the most comprehensive and valuable sports property today.

Packaging Olympic history into different eras - e.g. the Games of the Belle Epoque period, post-World War I, tensions of depression and rise of fascism, post-World War II, start of the Cold War and post war re-branding, to a rapidly globalized era of economy and commercialism - The Games frames each Olympiad within the context of the socio-political forces at play in the world around them. One does get  a sense of what the Games mean to the psyche of organizers, participants, and fans as each chapter unfolds, and as each Games comes back to life. Sample lessons include understanding the positioning of Rome 1960 and Tokyo 1964 as opportunities to showcase new, rebuilt, post-WWII societies, and how Barcelona 1992 should be viewed as a culmination, rather than start, of a cultural rejuvenation effort.

Along the way, countless trivia and background facts are shared. London 1908 was originally to be Rome, (and 1904 St. Louis originally Chicago), Stockholm 1912 the first to be separated from a leading World's Fair, and many other firsts: the first parade of nations (the unofficial Athens 1906 Games), the first podium ceremony (Los Angeles 1932), official Olympic film (Berlin 1936), the first official poster without a human representation (Melbourne 1956), the first evening Opening Ceremony (Barcelona 1992), and much more. It's all endlessly fascinating for an Olympics fan.

Although not treated as extensively as Summer, the Winter Games are certainly included. Of note, Goldblatt offers a good summary perspective of the origins of key winter sports (skating, ice hockey, curling), and the tidbit that the first Winter edition - Chamonix 1924- were only packages as an Olympic Games retroactively. Also a reveal is that longtime Olympic president Avery Brundage actively did not like the Winter Games.

Reading The Games today, a glaring problem is wanting more. Published ahead of Rio 2016, The Games obviously doesn't cover the North Korean dilemma at Pyeongchang 2018, nor today's Covid-impacted Tokyo 2020. I also wonder how Goldblatt would retrospectively address the massive fallout from Beijing 2008 and London 2012 drug retesting, and Russia's drug manipulation at Sochi 2014.

I'm also struck by considering Antwerp 1920 as a recovery Games coming out of WWI. With the world not knowing what to expect, but needing an Olympics, I immediately thought of a parallel to Tokyo 2020 and the current pandemic. Similarly, there are lots of unknowns as to what the Games will be. But what they can be - an inspirational moment of community and resilience - is known.

The Weight of Gold (2020)
A Quick Film Review

The approaching end of Mental Health Awareness Month inspired another look at last year's The Weight of Gold documentary, highlighting the more-common-than-you'd-think unseen challenges elite athletes face.

As narrator, star swimmer Michael Phelps is well-qualified to lend his voice. History's most-decorated Olympian, he has been open over the last handful of years about the difficulties he has faced with depression.

The Weight of Gold's other participants - fellow Olympians experiencing a variety of success - are frank in leveraging their personal insights, shedding light on the pervasiveness of added mental pressure.

Commentary from freestyle skier Jeremy Bloom (also listed as co-executive producer), diver David Boudia, figure skaters Sasha Cohen and Gracie Gold, bobsledder Steve Holcomb, hurdler/bobsledder Lolo Jones, skier Bode Miller, short track speed skater Apolo Ohno, skeleton race Katie Uhlaender, and snowboarder Shaun White help paint a picture which underscores the under-publicized struggles elite-level athletes face in high performance.

Driven by Olympic dreams from a young age, these athletes face a life hyper-focused on attaining Olympic success, with everything non-Olympic goal related viewed as an obstacle to block out. The narrow vision sets them up for shock once dreams are unfulfilled or end. What happens when they experience failure or end their careers? Too many are not prepared for how to define themselves outside of training for the one Olympic moment, and when the cameras leave.

Meanwhile, financial pressures while training often compound struggles. The vast majority of Olympians do not experience significant outside sponsor support, and any national team stipends are too paltry to adequately give relief to athletes with limited non-training time. Uhlaender is particularly powerful in her segments, revealing the added pressure of being the stipend support for the entire team, as the leader of a smaller, fringe sport.

Most poignant is watching included commentary from Holcomb, raw in his openness...filmed some time before his suicide in 2017. His death, following those of fellow Olympians Steven Scherrer and Jeret Peterson, was a marker in driving attention to mental health. But, unfortunately, not the last, as Kelly Catlin and Jack Hatton fell victim to depression just in the last couple of years.

The Weight of Gold's overarching message is what has been a glaring lack of attention to mental health from the structure of official team support, especially for retired athletes. The U.S. Olympic and Paralympic Committee has taken bigger steps of late...unveiling a mental health landing page and most recently a hotline. Obviously, these are steps in the right direction. (Note: the film's producers, along with HBO Sports has a resource page, too).

In its intimate moments, The Weight of Gold reminds us that Olympians, behind the veneer of super-human athletic power, are merely humans, too, operating under extremely charged conditions. It's great to see Phelps & co. use their platform as high-profile athletes to deliver the message that it's "okay to not be okay". 

But these are doubtless just an extreme few of the countless stories out there. And what of the scores of athletes who don't make an Olympic team? As the Tokyo 2020 Games quickly approach, and as we look forward to enjoying elite performance, it's key to remember their humanity, too.

The Stand: How One Gesture Shook the World (2020)
A Quick Film Review

The recent reiteration by the International Olympic Committee of its controversial Rule 50 - in effect prohibiting podium protests - inspired a look at last year's The Stand: How One Gesture Shook the World, a retrospective documentary on the famous original Olympic protest.

With the passing of years, it's hard today to understand the moment. But The Stand does frame Tommie Smith's and John Carlos' gestures within attempt the societal context for United States athletes when Mexico City 1968 took place.

Ahead of the Games, civil rights activism in the U.S. was at a fever pitch. Martin Luther King Jr.'s assassination had occurred, and a new generation of Black and allied citizens were inspired to have their voices heard against injustice. In The Stand, select perspectives of discrimination from U.S. athletes are presented, including track & field teammates Ralph Boston, Mel Prender, and Patty von Wolvelaere. Packaged with the protagonists' own voices, it's a look into the heightened tension in the air.

Enter Harry Edwards from San Jose State University, a vocal activist who realized the potential that athletes, and Olympians in light of the approaching Games, could be instrumental in promoting activism. The resultant Olympic Project for Human Rights pushed for a blanket boycott by Black athletes at the Games, supported as a strong symbol of "protest and struggle against racism and injustice", and was seen as the first time a group of athletes took a stand together. Eventually, the boycott movement fizzled but individual athletes were encouraged to contemplate individual actions - perhaps refusing to take a place on the podium?

With that backdrop, Smith and Carlos enter the Games and medal in the 200 meters (Smith gold, Carlos  bronze). We know the moment on the victory stand: wearing beads (Carlos) and a scarf (Smith), and walking shoeless, they shared a single pair of black gloves, they bowed their heads, and led by Smith - and fatefully - raised a fist both during the national anthem and on the walk back from the podium. But hearing directly in retrospect from the two, we gain insight into the spontaneity of the fists gesture. Interestingly, Smith posits the raised it as a sign of "solidarity and strength" rather than specific alignment to the "Black Power Movement" - a label very hard to disassociate since.

The immediate aftermath is well-known: led by IOC president Avery Brundage's indignation, Smith and Carlos are thrown out from the Olympic Village and banned by the U.S. Olympic Committee. What a juxtaposition to the USOC's stance now....with recent Black Lives Matter activisim as inspiration, today's USOC has expressed direct support for athletes who may protest. Just as surreal, World Athletics commemorates the moment as "iconic".

But at the time, Smith and Carlos were certainly outcasts. What The Stand nicely shows, however, is the under-reported support the two received from other athletes. In a particular revelation, the U.S. men's eights rowing team, led by Cleve Livingston and Paul Hoffman, were vocal in their backing. And, most notably, Peter Norman, silver medalist in the 200 meters, wore an Olympic Project for Human Rights button in support as the third man on that podium.

An unexpected strength of the film is the recounting, complemented by great archival footage, of the fateful 200 meters race itself. Smith's world record victory came after a pulled muscle in the semifinal just hours earlier, setting extra drama into the final. 

The Stand indicates a direct line to current activism, including Colin Kaepernick's kneeling, which could have been enhanced with comments from later athlete activists and their perspectives on 1968 to provide a fuller circle back. In fact, the next Olympics at Munich 1972 had its own podium protest, an obvious direct result of Mexico City. But in all, The Stand offers a sympathetic look back at the protest and at what Smith describes as a "responsibility to stand up for humanity". 

Rower Livingston contemplates in admiration that Smith's and Carlos' protest was a "piece of performance art". It's also an indelible moment in Olympic history that reverberates today, as the discussion on podium activism continues, no matter how the IOC attempts to brush it aside.

Filmed at "the most prestigious place for sports" in the country, the Wingate Institute for Excellence in Sport, 17 Seconds follows four of the many teenagers hosted at the facility: judokas Noa Even (age 16) and Raz Hershko (16), basketball player Mohamed Abu Arisha (17), and swimmer Ilia Gladishev (17).

​Over the course of the film, we get a look at Wingate's aim of "raising the best athletes in sports", as the teens are pushed by coaches, challenged in training, and tested in competition. we witness the teens work through their struggles for motivation. And teenagers, they are...they're distracted from training (particularly by Gladishev, whose girlfriend is identified as a cause), they break diet and sneak in pizza (Even and Hershko), and have short moody fuses (again, the judokas). Abu Arisha faces particular challenges of fitting in as an Arab-Israeli at the school; his coach urges him to "choose between being an Arab or an athlete."

All four have talent, and represent Israel internationally in various junior competitions. But as the film unfolds, Hershko and Abu Arisha seem to adjust best to their athletic opportunities. Hershko wins a European junior championship, and we see Abu Arisha secure an opportunity to play at Jacksonville State in Alabama. Meanwhile, both Even and Gladishev struggle to live up to potential - Even frustrated by injury and failing to defeat a frequent opponent, and Gladishev disqualified at the European Championships, blamed on his lack of focus.

​As 17 Seconds takes place in 2015, today we have the benefit to catch-up on where those trajectories have led since the film's release in 2018. Hershko is currently 21st in Olympic qualification rankings for Tokyo 2020. And after stints in the U.S. college system, Abu Arisha now is with Hapoel Be'er Sheva of the Israeli Basketball premier League. Meanwhile, Even's and Gladishev's careers seem to have plateaued. It's interesting to see those trends in 2015 appear to come to fruition. To paraphrase the indifferent Gladishev's prescient comment in 17 Seconds, not everyone who dreams accomplishes the dream.

17 Seconds offers a good "behind-the-scenes" look at an intense sports academy. And it also offers a universal coming-of-age story that transcends geography, as we see the young athletes work on their futures,. Even if they don't realize it at the time.