Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Art Show Reflection 2
Yesterday I went to see Bonnie Veblen's SMP presentation on her artwork. First of all, I was deeply impressed with the artwork itself, which I got to look at for a few minutes before her presentation began. The depth of the detail, maybe not necessarily accurate to the scene itself, but to the painting, and what she was trying to augment was very impressive. I definitely connected with her when she was talking about how art, for her, is about trying to experience the world anew, to reexamine the beauty that is present all around us, especially in the seemingly mundane or everyday things that we no longer notice. When she mentioned how children have no problem doing this, and that we are too busy to any longer take notice of these exquisite wonders, it struck me that also, maybe it was because, for the children, these things were not yet mundane, everyday things, that they had not been here long enough to be able to forget to appreciate them. I also really identified with her answer to one of the questions, which, if I remember correctly, had to do with her mentioning the privateness of the vision that is then manifested on her canvas, and how she reconciles that privateness with sharing it with the rest of the world as a work of art. She said that she is not trying to keep this vision of hers to herself, but wants other people to understand and appreciate it. I think this is one of the main reasons and characteristics of art, much less the human experience. It reminded me of a scene from "Into the Wild", where the hermetic youth is dying of poisonous berries, and jots the note "happiness is real only when shared" in the space between paragraphs of the book he is reading.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Art21 viewings 2
Looking back at the work of Sally Mann, I am struck by her determination in her medium, at least concerning her photography. I was reminded of Robert Frank's work, in how the "mess-ups" and scars on the photographs are not at all hidden, and truly seem to be on purpose a lot of the time, seeming to add grit and/or some type of authenticity to the photographs. But Frank did actually have limited resources, at least more so than Sally Mann, whose work is featured in the Smithsonian among others. But she chooses to shoot in black and white, and not just in black and white, but with a camera modeled after those used in the 1800's, using her hand for a shutter. At first it would seem as if these choices are just creating unnecessary difficulties and obstacles. On the one hand though, it probably makes it that much more rewarding when the result a beautiful picture. And on the other, even if the specific individual scratches and light blots aren't purposefully placed, it definitely seems the methods taken in order to develop the film to appear that way is on purpose. And the ghostly, ethereal images that are produced are really beautiful.
I find Mel Chin's work to really inspiring, in the way he intelligently assimilates so many disparate disciplines, as in the case of KNOWMAD. In doing so, he stretches the notion of what an artist actually is, what an artist makes or does. I think that even if his "works of art" can't or wouldn't normally be considered as works of art, that there is something very artistic in the very act of asking these questions, of stretching those bounds. If art is about taking the viewer away, of forcing them to look at something in a new way, then he is doing this. Not only in his projects, which seem to me to be directed at making the world a better place by bringing attention and aid and art to hurting corners. And this is to be highly admired whether or not it is art.
I have been out West once before, but when I go again, I will go to the Roden Crater, built by James Turrel. His work with light is really fascinating to me, like the corridor of light, called "The Light Inside", where the block's of light appear to be solid, but are not. And of course, the crater, a visionary work, to be able to turn such an empty place, to build a place where light, natural light can be so viewed. Light itself is such a beautiful phenomenon, and to be able to create such interesting ways to look at it, that in turn allow us to look inwards, and upwards, is inspiring.
I feel like I can probably relate most closely with Gabriel Orozco, out of this group of artists that we learned about. I identify with and admire the way he uses any and all mediums not only to give answers, to tell messages, but to ask the questions, so many questions. Like Mel Chin, sometimes I think that it is in asking the questions that the true art, the true human experience comes through. I can relate to this exploration and asking because that is where I am right now in life. Sometimes I feel like I'm not even sure what the question is I'm asking, that I'm trying to answer. Perhaps by making these works, by exploring these questions through such a cathartic process, one may hope to register the actual questions being asked, and may hope to find the answers.
Reflection on the 4 Levels of Meaning and Little Red Robin Hood
According to William Irwin Thompson, there are, especially in regards to fairy tales, four levels of meaning and understanding that are contained within a story. He identifies these four levels as: literal, structural, anthropological, and cosmological. The literal level is exactly what is written on the page, the immediate meanings of the present words, according to the context of the words as a whole group. In his article he uses the example of the story of Rapunzel. The structural level gathers patterns between the present words, matching themes and lines, looking for things that repeat or might be related, while still on the literal level. Here he points out the repeating image of the window, the wall, and the many differing pairs of characters. The anthropological level is the process of organizing these seeming patterns into a coherent whole, the exploration of alternate story lines contained within the literal words of the story. Here he analyzes the possible meanings behind the purpose of the name Rapunzel, the significance of the witch, and the importance of the way it is translated from German, where it is closer to "sorceress," as well as the significance behind the different pairs, and how it points to the old matrilineal world in the figure of the sorceress, and the power she has over the different men, as well as the newborn babe. The cosmological level further expands the possibility of interpretation to the very construction of a world view, pertaining to the relationships between sexes, planets, and different forms of life. Here he continues his examination of the Rapunzel plant, pointing out that it has the capability of reproducing with solely itself, just as the maiden does in the story. He goes on to discuss how this could relate to the issues of pregnancy, and then takes Rapunzel as an allegory of the movements of various celestial bodies through the night sky, as seen by those who originally told the story, through their geo-centric orientation.
In regards to the story of Little Red Riding Hood, I'm not sure there is as much to say, of course I never would have guessed there was so much to say about the story Rapunzel. It was really awesome and impressive actually.
As with most fairy tales, there are multiple versions, as well as translations available, and obviously, many different meanings and understandings can be derived from the stroy simply by which version one chooses. If one were to take the Brothers Grimm version the discussion might follow as such:
Structural: I would point out the recurring image of the cap, the one that the girl wears, and the one that the grandmother, and then the wolf wears. The recurring image of the path as a place of safety and assuredness, straying from the path will bring dire consequences, even if you get flowers first. Like in Rapunzel, there are several pairs: the mother and daughter, the girl and the wolf, the wolf and the grandmother, the girl and the grandmother, the wolf and the hunter.
Anthropological: The case of the cap is difficult, because the color of the grandmother's cap is never specified. However, the red cap of the maiden could very well signify a coming of age, the beginnings of menstruation and the reaching of womanhood. As this tale was being told in pre-Renaissance Europe, the path could have easily resembled the way of Jesus, or more specifically, the way advocated by the Church, that being purity and avoidance of evil; what that evil is, or was, is another discussion. The flowers signify the temptations that can lead one farther and farther off the path, from the way. And this falling away will hurt not only you but those you love.
Cosmological: Just as the red cap could signify the beginning of womanhood, so does the popping from the wolf's stomach, that was so dark and scary. And not only does this signify a coming of age, but it implies a new birth, the spring or the dawn. This makes allusions to the Norse myth of where the sun is swallowed at the end of this age (Ragnarök), to begin the world anew. In connection with Thompson's analysis of Rapunzel, present here is the triad of the maid, the mother, and the old woman, supporting the matrilineal perspective of the sexual awakening and growth of the woman, as represented in the caps. In terms of the relationship between the girl and the wolf, it may be interpreted, also from the matrilineal perspective that males are the interlopers, that the wolf is symbolic of a man, predatory man taking advantage of young maids. In the Grimm's translation the wolf is referred to as an "old sinner" and "greybeard."
Self Portrait Reflection
I think I usually prefer art that is more along the figurative line, where some things are shown and some are left out, some exaggerated, and so forth. I think this is more interesting, because it implies a story, a history of how, and possible why the artist views the subject in such a way, and why he should choose to share this version of it with us. Of course this affects our view of the subject, and perhaps isn't as wise if it is our first encounter with said subject. But in my experience, I make art concerning things that concern me, things that I have an opinion about, and I usually try to communicate that impression or message through my work.
Even in the work of photographer of Ansel Adams, who and whose work I think is spectacular, is if not figurative, altered in order to portray the awe with which he views his natural world.
Then there are times, like in the paintings of early Chuck Close, whose awesome objectiveness and ability to render exact detail is just incredible. And I think what makes these paintings so awesome is that in his ability to render such fine details, he removes the need to add any type of impression or message of his own. He simply lets the power in that face, in those eyes, speak for itself.
As far as my objective portrait goes, I didn't want to simply take one picture of me, straight on, and print it out and paste it on the wall and call it art. That's not art, and it was boring to me. I knew I couldn't draw or paint anything like Chuck Close, though before I saw his work I considered myself to be rather good at drawing faces. I decided to take a picture of my head from each side, except the back, because I couldn't see where my head was in relation to the camera in the computer then. The idea was that I would be able to combine the three images into one, by blurring the divisions between the different curly sections of hair, to make them appear unified. To make this work, I later realized I'd need to combine the necks as well, and this makes the image look a little awkward. However, since it is meant as an objective portrait, there is no real significance behind the unified neck. It is possible that a viewer, might gather a message anyways, possibly that, figuratively, I look in many directions at once.
For the subjective portrait, I wanted to totally abandon any outward appearances. I did construct the symbols in the formation of a head however, in order to identify the picture as a portrait, as well as to communicate the idea that it is these things that combine to form a unified whole: me. I did retain one outward vestige: the eyes. Eyes are very important to me, because they are what most honestly express a person's sentiments. They are unique to the individual, and I think that they, more than anything else, are what give animation to the face. All of the other images included in the subjective portrait were things from my life that are immediately special about and to me. Obviously I left a lot of important things out, which I may add.
Digital Pictionary Reflection
I was really excited about the Digital Pictionary project, when I heard about it. Back when I was at home, my family used to play that a lot. Of course, when you are playing the game, you want your partner to be able to guess whatever word or concept you are trying to describe through images, so that you can win. This project was so exciting for me, to be able to try be more ambiguous, and clever. To present a solid stash of information that in context would obviously point to whatever word I was given. But hopefully, out of context, would be much more unclear.
When I learned that we were supposed to make three different takes on the project, so whoever was guessing would have a wider base off of which to guess, it worried me a little that I wouldn;t be able to make that many. However, I realized that, though this presented a challenge, it was a very good challenge, and forced me to work and think outside the box. In the end, I lucked out, with the word "ironic", which, in regards to English and grammar, actually has exactly three different types of manifestation: verbal, situational, and dramatic irony. This was perfect.
Of course, in trying to represent these three different aspects through images, the lines were no longer so sharp: I could not actually represent verbal irony, truly, without audio. So I used the picture of the guy with the fingers crossed behind his back, implying a lie. But then, whoever is looking at the picture knows he is lying, and the guy he is lying to doesn't, and so it becomes dramatic irony.
It took awhile for concrete ideas to start formulating, but once they started it was easy. I made the situational irony one first, then the verbal, then the dramatic. One of the first ideas I had was of the curbside prophet actually witnessing the end, whatever that was. I couldn't find any suitable picture of one (I looked through a lot of Non Sequitur comics), so I drew one. After that it was easy to assemble common images from an imagined apocalypse. Again, my concept for the verbal irony image centered on the fingers crossed behind the back and the silver tongue to signify lying. Hyperboles are a common form of verbal irony, and so I included the image of the snake that had eaten a horse, rather than just stating "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse!" The dramatic irony was really simple actually, with the audience watching as the thief snuck up behind the unsuspecting girl. It was interesting because, in terms of the three images as a group, this one seemed to throw people off the most. In the background of the third one, was the text "this year?" and then "nope" repeated 8,000 times. Ideally it would have been able to fit 1,000,000 times, to represent the hyperbole "not in a million years."
Robert Frank Exhibit Reflection
I really enjoyed the visit to the Robert Frank exhibit. I had heard of his work prior to this class, but I had never actually studied it, or learned about Frank himself. It was really interesting to learn of his earlier work in Peru, where he began focusing on the people, and the everyday living of the everyday person, rather than the grand scenery or famous monuments, and how these orientations and experiences informed his later work, specifically "The Americans". I was drawn to his work because of how raw it is, and how simple. The shots are not set up or conceived at all, but truly spontaneous photography, capturing things that he saw that interested him. It is amazing how much you can observe and learn about people by just sitting back and watching, and his work exemplifies this for me.
He is not actually showing us anything new. He is truly just a passerby, a nobody, and is not taking pictures in places where anybody couldn't go. He is merely taking the time to point out that those things are there to see, and that maybe they are worth taking second look at. By taking the time to photograph such "mundane" or "marginalized" things, he is immediately giving them worth, and asking if maybe they should be given more as it is. This is, I think, why the work has had such lasting affect. It is easy to forget what you are not looking at.
Another thing that struck me was the way they were not essentially individual pictures, but a group of and groups of pictures. Rather than immediately hitting you with a message, Frank's or not, (although there were some that did, for me at least), whatever that message was seemed to slowly wash over you as you took in the whole exhibit, or at least the different sections.
Whether it was intentional or not, this seemed to me to imply the grandness perhaps of the human life, these pictures of little, overlooked, everyday places, slowly combining to allow us to form a new vision of America, those little, overlooked, everyday things, making up the essence and foundations of our lives.
It was also really cool to learn that Jack Kerouac wrote the Introduction to the book. Last semester I read The Dharma Bums and On the Road, both by Kerouac, and this led me to have a deeper admiration for Frank's work, after seeing the way Kerouac appreciated it, myself greatly admiring Kerouac and his opinion.
Scrap Book 22
I found this light-switch in my hallway, 2nd Dorch left. It has only looked like this for a few weeks, and I'm not sure of when exactly it was changed, but I would assume that it was a Friday or Saturday night. First I just noticed it because I wasn't used to a light-switch looking like that. Then I noticed how the break was nearly straight down the middle, and the symmetrical appearance of the smooth side contrasted with the the gaping naked side reminded me of the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, which I actually just read yesterday. Mr. Hyde describes the persona of Jekyll as the cloak under which he hides to preserve himself from judgment. If I named this photograph "The Doctor's Mask, Reflecting, Broken, Reveals the Dark Hyding Within" the poetic nature of the title would render the photograph a metaphor, and therefore, art. But I have not named this photograph in such a way, but merely "Scrapbook 22" and it remains purely objective, and unsentimental. The light-switch itself is not art, but it is possible for a human being to take virtually anything, and by putting it in a new, strange context, adds a figurative layer of meaning that could manifest his creativity, and/or take the viewer away.
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