Monday, February 29, 2016

Textual Poaching

The Fallen Art of Expressionism

Happy Face
Textual poaching has its roots in Dadaism, as with Duchamp's L.H.O.O.Q. His mustachioed Mona Lisa comments both on the protest of art and rejection from the traditional norms. In a sense, Duchamp is putting himself onto DaVinci's masterpiece. In his article, "How Texts Become Real," Henry Jenkins describes this kind of textual poaching in regards to television. He argues that art is meant to generate more art, and that nothing compliments an artist more than people ripping off the work. Now perhaps this isn't quite what Duchamp had in mind, but it certainly sums up my thought process.    

Munch's The Scream has transfixed me ever since I saw it. First it was the rich colors and swirling textures. Then it was the emotions it described and evoked. At different times, this piece has taken the face of my teenage angst, unrequited love, fear of the unknown future, anxiety about life, and just about every other distressing phenomenon. The Expressionist movement came as an attempt to liberate color and form to convey emotion. It wasn't enough to paint things as they appeared; expressionists painted them as they felt. Thus the sensuality of Van Gogh's sunflowers becomes more readily apparent when one takes into account the unnaturally warm color palette and evocative brush strokes. Kandinsky abandoned traditional form altogether and painted music in abstract patterns of texture and color. It was an era marked by a wide range of approaches, each of which carries an emotional message specific to the individual viewer, as shown by my experience with Munch.

However, we live in a culture and in a society that simultaneously extols expression while avoiding negative emotions. It's a world marked by empty "I'm fine"s and "I'm just tired"s. Happy Face comments on this kind of emotional masking. Sightless eyes and a gaudy painted-on smile leer sarcastically from below a cheery and cheesy sun. The bright colors hide the horror that was once so forceful. For me, Happy Face describes the superficiality we wear to cover our vulnerabilities. As actors, we put on a good show for ourselves and our friends, but we refuse to see what is really going on. The media we choose to consume reinforces false ideals and cheap happy endings. And thus the realism of experience is lost. 

Textual Poaching 2

Great and Spacious Building

Continuing the discussion on textual poaching, I found myself in a dangerous position. And I'm not the first artist to go there. As a devoted member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I've occasionally found inconsistencies with doctrine and practice––which is normal for any organization in which humans have a say in it. However, I have been particularly concerned about how members of my faith (including myself) react to those of different faiths. 

In finding himself in a similar position, Andres Serrano submitted a photo entitled Piss Christ (1987). It depicts a crucifix submerged in a glass of urine. The photograph was immediately met with shock and anger. Many people threatened the artist. Upon further analysis, however, it is apparent that the piece is not meant to convey how the artist feels about Jesus Christ, but to express what he saw in society's treatment of him and his doctrine.

In the same way, Great and Spacious Building is meant to cause reflection as to the honesty of one's worship, particularly for members of the LDS faith. The picture is a popular Book of Mormon scene, with those who follow the iron rod finding eternal peace, while people in a far off building mock them. By virtue of the Mormon church in place of the building, one may well ask if they are on the path of true discipleship or merely flaunting what they see as "superior" doctrine with their inferior worship.

The church and the doctrines found in the Book of Mormon have paramount importance in my life. But complications arise when I find myself in a condescending position toward others. The whole point of Christianity is to help others live decently and in harmony with God and fellow-man. Great and Spacious Bulding shows that no one is above reproach.


Variations on a Theme

Happy Face 2
Happy Face 3
Happy Face 4

The above variations of Happy Face provide interesting new nuances for discussion, introducing Oedipus-like gouged-out eyes, a WalMart rollback symbol, and a river full of logos. I'll let you draw the conclusions about social acceptance, commercialism, and false advertising. 


Monday, February 22, 2016

Medium Specificity

di·o·ram·a
ˌdīəˈramə,-ˈrä-/
noun

• dusty wax Neanderthals in a museum....??


As I walked down the steps of my favorite building, contemplating what to create as a demonstration for medium specificity, a poster caught my eye. “Seeing Absence, Listening to Silence—the Challenge of Reconstructing Chinese Rail Workers’ Lives.” 

Seeing absence.

It stuck. So much of what we understand from our eyes depends on the negative space surrounding it. Paintings are static. An illusion of depth and light. What if they weren't though? What if the illusion was more real? Sculpture dabbles in space, but not as much with light....

A diorama.

Now before you go about complaining of how stale and dusty and creepy are the life-size wax figures in museums, consider what a diorama is. Scott McCloud’s “Understanding Comics” delves into what makes a medium (particularly comics) and the various creative possibilities within that medium. He encourages us not to mistake the message for the messenger. So museums may be full of creepy wax people, yes, but what creative possibilities lie within the mixed media of dioramas?

Enter Louis Daguerre, the inventor of the diorama. The word literally means “through that which is seen,” meaning that Daguerre manipulated light through various angles of a thin canvas. He not only fundamentally changed the paintings, but also gave them life. It's a phenomenon that belongs solely to the medium and nowhere else. 

My work seeks to celebrate both conceptions of dioramic art. I've combined 3D objects juxtaposed against a rendered background with Daguerre’s light manipulation. In the first image lit from above, we see a knight facing a fierce dragon, who seems to be recoiling at his advance. When lit from behind, the tables are turned. The dragon is spewing fire, eyes bright and menacing, and our brave knight is cowering before it. I found it interesting that though the different lighting strategies function best with flat images, creating a silhouette of objects can also manipulate the message of a scene. It's manipulation of both space and light and the same piece can be projected different ways. 

In popular definitions, we see two main types of dioramas: the 3D recreation of a scene, and Daguerre’s conception. An exact definition is difficult and I don't have enough engagement with the medium to present one, but it's clear that dioramas mix elements from other mediums—sculpture, painting, lighting, printing and digital image manipulation (my image was created using photoshop and some tricky printing magic), etc. It's also helpful to note that dioramas embrace real space and real light instead of manufacturing it. Thus they beg for greater engagement from the audience. 

In experimenting with different combinations, I began to see the vision that Daguerre had when he invented the medium. The capacity to transcend what is traditionally 2D and 3D is enormous and largely untapped. Even so, the medium is far from a rare phenomenon. Remember this the next time you pick up a snowglobe, because you're really actually holding a very small diorama.






Monday, February 8, 2016

Historical Story

Barroom Stories

“It's our history; we can change it if we want to,” says Miss Falewicz in the film, Be Kind, Rewind. In in many ways, she is right. Psychological studies show a lot of evidence for various ways in which we reform the past, occasionally conjuring memory out of whole cloth and sometimes out of nothing at all. Suggestibility, memory misattribution, false recognition—these are all terms that psychologists use to explain such events. We can liken it to Orwell’s 1984 with all its thought police and rewritten histories. You may even think of this example as a microcosm for our own brains. We create our own realities. 
To that end, we ought to be skeptical of historical drama as fact. Our perception of history is largely influenced by where we are experiencing it. In our screenplay, we chose to incorporate popular themes in the world today: roles of women, the dubiousness of Thomas Edison’s character, the way ideas are sensationalized and misrepresented in society, etc. These things weren't really on the discussion tables in the 1880s when the story is set, but they allow us to connect to the period in a way that we understand and enjoy.
We took a great deal of creative liberty in developing the story—so much so that we suggest Edison may have been a woman. It’s left a bit vague, so it is up to the viewer to decide if this is Martin’s biggest lie yet, or if there's really some truth in it. The woman is, after all, a lead figure in Edison Machine Works, which is atypical of the 19th century American workplace. That aside, it turns out there were actually women inventors at the time. Prominent among them is Margaret Knight, known by journalists as the “Lady Edison.” The story is funny and silly, but there are some legitimate “currents” running through it.
A major inspiration as the story was written was the humor in everyday life. The original idea came as Kyler read a story about an argument between Thomas Edison and Nikola Tesla. Edison had promised Tesla 5,000 dollars if he completed a design. When Tesla completed the task and asked for his reward Edison said that he never intended on paying him and that Tesla simply didn't understand American humor. This prompted Tesla to leave Edison's employment. Tesla and Edison became rivals and had what one article refers to as a “war of currents”. The fact that such a silly thing took place between such great minds was a driving force behind writing a comedic script about this place in time. We liked the idea of creating a character that wants to be a part of history, as most people do. Through Martin we tried to show the ridiculousness and sometimes futility of this pursuit. Yet here we are in the very same business, attempting to elicit a snicker rather than “ooh, lightbulb” out of the name of Edison. Did we succeed? You can be the judge.



http://www.livescience.com/46739-tesla-vs-edison-comparison.html

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Process Piece


Climbing Ice

We are often encouraged to look a little less at the destination and 'enjoy the journey.' But how often do we actually do it? The point of the process piece is to stop for a minute to see beyond simply the product. In this creation, the means carry far more meaning than the end, and in many ways supersede its value. The short film Five, for example, is more concerned with showing the commonality of children preparing for religious initiation rather than the initiations themselves.

For our creative work, we wanted to capture the experience of our first time ice climbing. It's always a bit of a sketchy ordeal, and most climbers have sort of “figured it out” with their buddies. Our process of capturing the experience in audio followed on those same lines. We didn't give too much forethought to what our finished product would be—we just went up and tried to figure it out as we went.

And we don't think we're alone. The unique creative process for each individual is, in some ways, common. We can appreciate, for example, a child's drawing; for though it may lack understanding, it conveys pure ideas and demonstrates the child's creative process.

We can see a similar creativity in the body of Jackson Pollock's artwork. He is described as an action painter, wherein the process of the painting takes precedent over form and function. It's expressionism, not of ideas, but of emotion and movement. 

"I have no fear of making changes, destroying the image, etc., because the painting has a life of its own. I try to let it come through. It is only when I lose contact with the painting that the result is a mess. Otherwise there is pure harmony, an easy give and take, and the painting comes out well.”
—Pollock

In documenting our experience with ice climbing, it was interesting to realize that we spent very little time actually climbing ice. The bulk of our time was spent hiking, setting up the equipment, and learning what to do. The enjoyments did not come so much from completing the climb. They came from the camaraderie of being with cool people and enjoying the beauties of the ice fall and inclement weather. 

We had hoped to include the process of actually recording the event, but due to constrictions we were unable to. Thus the narrative of the piece really evolved on its own. Unlike Pollock, we didn't have the luxury of limitlessness on our side, so it was all we could do to express something coherent. Our process is about learning to ice climb, but the real process that occurred was in putting the composition together. 

Listen closely and realize that this piece is made up of many layers, agonizingly stitched together to express in two minutes the events of an entire day.