Film 202

The Perfect Human by Jorgen Leth

2008-12-10T01:02:00.000-08:00

In paper 2, I discussed how “Passage a l’Acte” came off as a simple story at first and it was only after multiple viewings, that I was able to look deeper into the plot and learn things about the characters that weren’t immediately available. In watching “The Perfect Human,” I was compelled to do the same thing, picking it apart and trying to determine where the rest of the story came from.

This film is made out to be a documentary made by aliens, (and for aliens,) about humans. It feels like watching an informational program of an unfamiliar creature; where one can study our movements, physical differences, and behavior. We are observed in our daily lives as humans, for what we are and what we can do. The story is much different for humans vs. aliens though.

The primary story seems to be focused toward the alien viewers; the narrator covers our physical differences, but leaves the viewer curious and in the dark as to understanding human emotion. The secondary story seems to come from a human perspective—and because we are humans we can attempt to understand our own behavior a little more meticulously.

As humans, we may develop the idea that this is about human emotion and primitive drives. It shows that man and woman are different (all through the subtlety of describing what clothes they have on.) It shows that they are active, that they are intimate. They are everything we are and that is why they are perfect—they are the perfect example of real humans in real life.

The narrator obviously told most the story, with few words, but it was descriptive nonetheless. There were many elements that also helped shape the story and give it more depth: (body language, music/silence, clothing, transitions, character dialog, etc.) I don’t think the narrator was meant to tell everything on its own—much like in “Passage a l’Acte,” the dialog couldn’t tell the whole story (mainly because it was frequently interrupted/distorted.)

In order to aid in my topic of human emotion I need to point out the supporting element, which to me, was the black and white color scheme. The fact that both characters had on black outfits and white outfits at separate times was key. Sometimes the color changed in the middle of a "scene” and sometimes it was consistent throughout the scene. Either way, the color differences made a small reference as to time. Since the man is dressed the same in the beginning and the end of this film, one might draw the conclusion that everything in between is a memory, (or perhaps the man is in denial and is just physically reliving the experience.)

The part when they are jumping is where the color scheme first became apparent to me. The man switches to white outfit after his first jump, which might mean he is reminiscing. The man and the woman seem to be wearing white when they are happy, when they are together. Perhaps the white clothes is when they were a couple and when they are shown in black clothes it is a reference to each of them apart in their own lives, depressed/indifferent. This is also symbolism with color—darker colors represent darker emotion, where as brighter colors represent warmer emotions. They are never in the same frame while wearing black. (You get a glimpse of the woman’s hands while they are eating, but once the camera’s point of interest changes, the man is alone.)

The alien viewers may not have enough of an understanding of human emotion. (The narrator suggests this with: “Why does he move like this,” “What is this human thinking.”) As humans, we are different; we have a general idea of the way a human works. We can noticeably observe what emotion is being expressed, and try to determine the cause. I looked for answers in the black in white.

A sense of time showed that this was more than a simple documentary. It would have been far less interesting if they were wearing the same outfit all the way through; it would seem like no time has passed at all and their actions would come off random. By applying the color scheme to the respective emotions of the man and woman, one can get a concept for a back-story--and there are many cases that support this theory:

The man is depressed in the beginning while smoking the pipe, and in the end while choking down his dinner (both times wearing black). There is a point when he’s dancing while wearing the tux, (which will be dissected later.) The woman is dressed in black only in the beginning and at a point in the middle where she lies down, (which is most likely her, exclusively, in her own life.) They are probably dressed up (in black) for an important occasion, such as celebrating their anniversary and doing the things that humans would normally do in this case (i.e. dancing and having dinner with champagne.)

The man was happy while dancing (and this was the only case.) He may have been dancing to win her over. (Perhaps it is a flashback to a point in time where they were still getting to know one another.) This part is left open for many interpretations though, (if only considering the visuals with the color scheme.) Again, it could be denial and he could be actually “celebrating” his anniversary alone.

Another supporting case is when they go through motions of a human, (particularly the falling motion.) When the man falls, (wearing the tux), his emotions are animated and his fall is more like an exhausted collapse; (frustration/sorrow.) When he is wearing white, his fall seems a little more playful. The woman, on the other hand, lies down slow and relaxed, as if indifferent or unbothered by their separation.

Later, it shows they were intimately involved, which explains the sense of discomfort and confusion in the man at the end—he had invested a lot of emotion in this girl and he is and he is struggling to enjoy himself. He is confused, as all humans are when love suddenly ends.
With this in mind, maybe the message goes deeper than that—The film in its entirety, (from a human point of view,) could be suggesting that we aren’t as smart as we think we are. Or, that our thought processes are too developed for our own good, which often leads to immense confusion.

It could be a statement of irony. By calling the piece “ The Perfect Human” it may be suggesting that everyone is like this. In a perfect situation one would assume that the two of them would be together in the end. Thus, it comes full circle, because life isn’t perfect. It is saying nobody’s life is really that far off from this; they are, after all, just ordinary people.

All in all, this story is different depending on who views it, and how it its viewed. Like “Passage a l’Acte,” there are many interpretations as to how the story should unfold. I find it interesting (and useful) to be able to choose a specific aspect of a film and eventually form your own conclusions from them.

In "Passage a l'Acte" I let the manipulation tell more of the story, through audio and body movement. In “The Perfect Human,” the color scheme spoke louder to me. Obviously, both films are in black and white; they are related in the sense that they both consist of footage from the 1960’s. (Of course “The Perfect Human” was actually made in the 60’s, “Passage a l’Acte” utilized recycled footage and was assembled in the 90’s.)

Both of these videos are showing humans in everyday life and both go beneath the superficial story through other subtle cues. Both of the themes I chose (the conflict between father and son in one, and the black and white outfits vs. emotion in the other,) were significant over the other themes in the film. By either spending more time on a particular clip, or by inserting the clip at the beginning and/or end of the piece really makes it stand out.

The two films seemed to speak on an emotional level, especially on the darker side of the spectrum; they brought a feeling of discomfort. “Passage a l’Acte” used repetition to firmly implant a feeling of tension amidst an argument. “The perfect Human” was similar; it links emotions to color to help unfold a hidden story about a failed love life between husband and wife.

Both films challenged and compelled me personally to look deeper than the picture alone; they had very little dialog to refer to the plot. Often times, it is far too easy to fall into the niche of a typical movie watcher; looking only on the surface and seeing only one story. Re-watching the film several times makes the other metaphorical devices stand out, but the typical movie watcher isn’t looking for this. Both of these films are encouraging me to look at the poetry within film and to develop a better understanding for what makes art in general.

Today's Art World

2008-12-02T10:05:00.000-08:00

I think that today's art world is weird and fascinating; there are so many different genres that exist within the world today.

Journal Entry #2

2008-12-02T10:03:00.000-08:00

Monique Meloche Gallery
(Carrie Schneider)

One of the first things that struck me about this article was the artist’s name. Ironically, I dated a girl with the same name a few years back, (but she wasn’t nearly this creative.) What kept me reading was the disturbing photo that appears at the top of the article. It is a bust shot and the artist is nude except for a strategically placed headdress that she made from juniper bushes and tree bark. It instantly reminded me of ancient mythology and spirits controlling the Earth. I guess to me she looked like she was some kind of forest spirit.

She was born and went to art school in Chicago, but her most recent work takes place in Finland, where she is apparently even more confident in expressing her weirdness. She definitely stands out while blending in, as the author of the article goes into detail to describe. The picture alone implies that she is very green, but it also goes into detail describing how she embraces nature as both part of her work and for inspiration; that she gets her energy, so to speak, from the Earth. I found this interesting because I look at the Earth in the same way (and I am positive I am not alone); there is a lot of inspiration in nature. Evidentially she gets pretty into it though; rolling around in the dirt, immersing herself in a cold lake, etc. Much of her work is large-scale photographs or film.

She seems to be art rather than make it; every piece she does is using her body as canvas. For the most part she seems to use the Earth as her paint. The most interesting of her work that was described was “WE(Baltic Version)(2008)” in which she is covered head to toe in black and white fabric (even her face). It supposed to be about the sighting of a rare creature--and by the description in the article, sounds like she nailed it. She emerges from a lake, just before sunset, with her fingers dragging across the surface. I got a very vivid picture from this. (It instantly reminded me of Doug Jones and some of the creepy roles he expresses in his movement (i.e. Pan from “Pan’s Labyrinth” and Abe Sapien in “Hellboy”.) I later found a photo of this on a different site: http://www.flickr.com/photos/73059802@N00/2964670731/

I am a big fan of fiction and have a growing interest in demented fairytales and mythology. Carrie Schneider definitely covers this category, and it kept reading and curious to do some research outside the Frieze Magazine, unfortunately there isn’t that much to be told yet. This work seemed a little weird to me at first, but once I got a feel for how the finished work looks, I was more intrigued.

Haggerty Museum: Field Report #3

2008-12-02T00:50:00.000-08:00

Electric Sheep by Amy Globus

This piece was a video presented on a widescreen high definition television. It was tucked away in a small space next to the stairs, sitting on a wooden table with a pair of headphones dangling from it. I was already visually drawn to the piece by the orange octopus swaying about. When I put on the headphones, I was completely mesmerized. Aside from the interesting close-ups and various camera angles, the piece is accompanied by a very mellow song, (Emmylou Harris’s “Wreaking Ball,”) which seems to take control of the piece; the octopus acting out the lyrics—very luring.

Of course a lot of the sound effects were added in, but I'm curious if any of them were actually from the actual footage and just manipulated. Either way, it was synched up very well to the movement of the octopus as it moved through the darkness. The sound was all around you, a brilliant use of sound manipulation and panning. Volume rises as movement intensifies.
It also seemed that if there was any irregularity in the video, (i.e. its going in reverse or jitters slightly because of frames being removed and/or re-sequenced,) that the sound would match it. There is a point where the sound effects are actually in reverse as well; the same time you get the visual, you hear the audio equivalent.

Everything seemed very fitting, the music, the sound effects, the video, and the topic. It had a very synthetic feel to it while still being bound to natural life, (this must have been the reference to “Do Androids Dream of Sheep.”) It’s a strange combination that really works in favor of the piece.

It starts off with only the tentacles of the octopus being revealed, they gracefully oscillating through the water in harmony to the soundtrack, (this is what drew me in.) There are two big glass containers that the octopus swims back and forth through a series of tubes, during which an electronic screeching noise is happening. (It really sounds like something slimy squeezing through a glass tube, particularly emphasizing the suction cups sliding by on the screen.)
There is a recurring electrical noise (which might have been the same noise but manipulated further to make the screech noise.) I found this significant to the piece; not only because "electric" is in the title, Not only does it fit with the title, but also it seems to take place when the octopus’s tentacles are outstretched (representing the pattern that electricity takes when airborne.)

There were also, low bassy, bubbly noises that would resonate through the headphones at appropriate times during the song, not necessarily to the beat, but when it made sense to (a cue from the song, or a change in camera position, or even when the octopus changes elevation.)
The most interesting of the sound manipulations was the song itself. What ever program Globus used allowed her to edit individual aspects of a song. Which gave it a more of a dreamlike feel, as is now both sight and sound weren’t how we normally perceived them to be.

I felt the most effective was her use of panning; it gave you a sense of placement, or lack thereof, which made you feel as if you were really suspended there with the octopus. It was also a great reminder that we hear in stereo and can hear multiple sounds at once, which results in a very rich sound. There were also times when the vocals were sent through a high pass filter to emphasize pitch and static. It was little tweaks like this that set this apart from just watching an octopus on the discovery channel. This piece was very easy to get lost in.

Cave by Salla Tykka

Of the three videos by Salla Tykka being shown, I really liked “Cave” the best. It was in a large room. It was in a large room of its own and the screen took up most of the far wall, which seemed to be compensation for its relatively low volume.

This was interesting because it used noises, but came of like a silent film. The actress never spoke, but you got a sense of what was going on from her facial expressions. It seemed like all the original noises were used from the shoot, but Tykka was very selective on which sounds to put into the piece. It was a really eerie quietness, but set off by occasional music and sounds of nature. It had the perfect balance of silence and sound.

In the beginning, everything is till and peaceful. A woman dressed in white, (a common theme in this video,) trudges around a house and starts digging in the dirt, (both her footsteps and her shoveling are heard, along with the faint chirping of birds in the background.) She is interrupted by the blissful sound of tossing waves and rushing wind and starts off in the snow.

As she ran through the snow, the audio was very realistic; when she ran closer to the camera, the volume got louder. There was also panning in the audio depending on which side of the camera she ran past. She hears an explosion (foreshadowing) and drops to the ground; you can hear all of this as well as her panting. This went even further because her panting was a result of her running, but it was also more foreshadowing of her startled reaction yet to come.

She approaches the dark cave (white on black) and everything goes silent as the screen fades to black. The screen fades back proportionally to the volume level of her rhythmic jogging into the cave.) This was a very different sound from her jogging in the snow.) Up to this point you could rely on the sound to tell the entire story without even looking at the screen, but the visuals were needed within the cave.

As soon as you catch glimpse of the pool in the middle of the cave, you can distinctly hear a dripping noise. Ambient music sets it, a perfect sound to match the mystical cave, but quickly turns to suspense as she notices she is not alone. Her face says it all, you call tell she is anxious at the same time, the “silence” adds to it. All you can hear is a low hum, and after awhile it becomes apparent that it is a muffled version of the sound coming from the men’s equipment. This set quite an interesting mood, it was very easy to get lost in; all you see is three men drilling in a cave, but the music suggests so much more. You could almost feel her fear; it was as if these men were doing something very heinous in the cave.

She hides, haphazardly, against a wall and you can hear the men quietly packing up their equipment, which normally would have been anti-climactic, except the suspenseful music builds as she realizes they are going to walk past her. It reaches a crescendo and then stops as she is caught in the spotlight; the silence allows you to pull every emotion from her face even easier. As soon as the light moves off of her and they are deemed to be no threat, the music supports this and shifts back to its curious, ambient cave music. Her face shows relief then returns to curiosity as well. She jogs again into the darkness and arrives outside.

As soon as you get a visual of the water, the sound of the water is audible. I found this very realistic, as there was so much distraction in the cave that she put the sound of the water out of her mind. This helps put you in her place as we are sometimes bombarded by everything around us that we tend to notice only the most overpowering of the stimuli.

The peaceful music starts up again, (later informed to me as the music from the movie “Dune” soundtrack,) and the sound of the waves is drowned out as the camera shifts back to her. This was a complete 180 compared to the stress she found in the cave. The screen fades to white and the music continues, but appears to get louder due to its lack of visuals. Once again it becomes the most noticeable aspect and we are meant to focus on that. It carries on for another minute or so, just long enough for you to reflect on what has happened.

The two of these pieces were similar in a variety of ways. They were both very dynamic; using a captivating sound track and good panning techniques gave good reference to position and gave each piece an overall dreamlike feel to it. Both were involving nature and for the most part, the sound seemed to reflect that as well. Each one used a variety of field recordings. They really challenged you to see the inner message of the piece versus just being eye candy or a trendy song, although both synched up so well to the music it was hard to focus on the fact that there was another side to see. Both had a unique way of drawing in the viewer, even with a relatively simple plot.

These pieces were also very different in a many ways, other than their set-up. For instance, Globus used mainly manipulated and synthesized sounds, where as Tykka used more natural sound effects. All though they were both videos with sound, they were different in the way they got their points across. Electric Sheep was music with a video; the song told more of the story and the visuals depicted it. Cave had a video to tell the story and soundtrack to aid with that. Also the levels of silence were different; Electric Sheep had no points of silence; the entire piece stayed with you, and it was the same mood throughout the piece. Cave had interludes of silence to transition from mood to mood. Both were done very well and made my trip to the Haggerty Museum worthwhile.

Much like Aaron Ximm says, there are a variety of ways to work with sound; whether making a song, a composition of recordings, or an entire landscape, etc. Everyday sounds can be arranged and altered in ways to evoke different emotions than the ones directly linked to the sound source. I also believe that sound in general can conjure seemingly unrelated emotion. In the case of these videos, the sound and the mood were one in the same. There were a variety of sounds used in each, (some synthesized and some natural,) both worked constructively with their visuals. Both pieces used a range of textures and timbre to create a narrative from the soundtrack. Whether we recognize these sounds subconsciously or notice them to be of everyday life, they are laid out in a way that tells the story for what it is, and anything otherwise might not produce the same effect. These pieces were art in more ways than one: sonically, visually, conceptually, and abstractly. Their significance is not from the sound alone, it’s the combination that makes it art. You can appreciate the sounds for themselves: you can listen to the quality of the sound, the color, the origin, but you also get a feel for the amount of work put into arranging these pieces and possibly the processes it had to go through to sound the way it does. Both videos could have been silent (or absent of field recordings,) but to use the sound as a means to communicate is much more effective than just inserting a pre-made soundtrack to your film.

Passage A L'acte

2008-11-19T08:46:00.000-08:00

There’s a point in the film, Passage a l’Acte, when the man pounds his hand on the table and it makes a knocking sound, but Martin Arnold edits it in such a rhythm that it sounds like a typewriter. (This is just after he gets done saying, “sit right here.” This clip is looped over and over again until the boy finally sits down at the table.) Pounding the table is a very common gesture for impatience, but the way it was sequenced, it makes him seem very authoritarian as well. Now take the entire series of these typewriter noises and apply it to how a typewriter actually works. The sounds suggest that it is making a list, like the father is barking out orders one after another to his son. Not too mention, the use of repetition made him seem like he was long-winded. The actual scene without editing, plays out to be maybe 2 minutes, with the separation and slow progression of each frame (forward and reverse), it seems add a whole different level of tension. It gives you an almost an uncomfortable reaction, where as the initial piece may not elicit that at all. By tearing down the story and rebuilding frame by frame, Arnold is able to rearrange a simple breakfast scene to form a completely different story, in this case tension.

Earlier in the piece, (as the boy finally pushes the door open to come back inside,) there seemed to be a lot of detail about the boy’s personality. It takes up a good portion of the piece, but I thought of it as the same motion; he’s pivoting. His body language during this part was particularly interesting. First of all, I get the idea that the boy is very high strung. He seems almost indecisive about whether he would rather be inside or outside. It also seemed to reflect some hesitance. Maybe he fears his father or he is just in the midst of a disagreement, either way, he takes his time getting to the table. There’s another side of me that wants to say he comes of almost cocky in the way he approaches the table; he sways, noticeably, back and forth. He is also shrugging, which might imply he has a history of being disobedient. In full, he seems like a hyperactive troublemaker who needs discipline. Here again, by reconstructing how the boy comes in the door, (pausing the frames during each part of the boy’s movement, reversing, and repeating,) you are really able to bring key aspects of each “personality” trait. By letting each frame stay on the screen longer, the new storyline becomes more apparent as the subtlety is magnified.

Putting these two aspects together, one would get the sense that the boy did something wrong and his father is taking action through intimidation. The man pounding his hand on the table is one half of the typewriter noise. The other part is actually from the screen door in the background. He is also gesturing towards a chair at this time, and I feel this is necessary to mention because there seems to be a theme that revolves around this noise. The father makes the noise and the boy reacts. Because the scene takes so long, it could also be the other way around: the father is reacting to the boy dawdling on his way to the table. I feel that these particular points in the film also represent the film in its entirety; they really focus on the theme of tension. There are other obvious elements that give you cues, but to me the boy and his father was enough. The movements themselves are very similar in that they are both of a pivotal motion; the boy, shifting his weight from leg to leg while walking, and the man as he moves his arm. It is this apparent back and forth relationship I see going on. This could also be applied in figurative sense of an argument; that they are going back and forth. I feel that these two are in relation not only because they follow the defined roles of parent and child, but here again because of relation of motion. While their actions seem to directly correlate with one another, the lack of action around them also groups the boy and the father together. During both the typewriter sound and the boy entering the house, the rest of the family is pretty much motionless. Martin was very careful in his editing, to isolate the two of them from rest of the family. This, to me signified that this conflict is between only the boy and his father, even though during these parts, the rest of the family (because of their lack of movement) seemed tense. The mother keeps a straight face throughout, and the girl seems focused on her breakfast. Neither the mother nor the daughter interferes with the “argument” of the boy and the father at this point. Of course, each character gets their turn to “argue” in this piece, but I found the boy and the father went deeper (mainly because these parts played out longer.) In general, I think Martin Arnold was looking to present this in a manor to show tension and conflict in American families. I think this film is very simple and short, but a decent representation. It is also a creative approach at telling a new story.

Journal Entry #1

2008-11-10T11:35:00.000-08:00

The Frieze magazine is a very interesting website. I have been trying to read it as often as I can; luckily, I can go online with my phone (when it’s working.) I have been reading it on the bus, at the laundromat, at work, etc. The website is very informative, and visually adequate. I often find the reading challenging; the writing itself is sometimes more inspiring than the artist being described. The work really is great; it brings a certain randomness about that makes it worth reading.

The other day, I was reading an article about Chim ↑ Pom. They are a 6 member, contemporary art group, based in Japan. I gave the article a once over again today while on break, in light of the Chris Burden video shown in class. Originally, I thought of him as a mental case, though it was interesting to see what he was going to attempt next; Chim ↑ Pom is on the same lines. For example: the article explains how one of their members spent two weeks in an environment, living only off of garbage—and he had to share it with a crow and a rat. It was all to illustrate his point that ‘the only thing rats, crows, and humans have in common is garbage.’ That is just crazy. I think, as Americans, we often have a very basic idea of art: a sculpture, a painting, a movie, a song, etc. The art of shock apparently has some value, and I don’t know why, but I want to hear more.

I also Read an article on Matthew Brannon who also sparked some interest. He seemed very arbitrary in his work, but it was very creative. The article described how he was very fond of using small text and how he wrote minute poems in the spine of a book. He made artwork similar to that of Andy Warhol, which I find fascinating. He would make a painting so simple and subtle to the first look, but there is often a hidden meaning that takes a while to surface—or he literally hid something in the image and you have to lean in close to see it. He places non-sequiturs in fine print under his artwork to draw you from idea to idea—but you never know which direction he is going and you just want to figure it out. (I found this interesting, personally as my own conversation topics often segue in a random format.) In another part, it talks about how he wanted to bury a screenplay in a wall—maybe in hopes that someone will find it, upon the building’s demolition, and want to write it. Then there’s the chance that no one will find it, or that someone would eventually find it and not want to produce it. Either way, he leaves it up to chance. I don’t see the point; why would someone do that after investing that much time? It’s another form of art that I just don’t understand, but would like to.

There were a lot of articles about musicians in there as well. Judging by what I have seen already, I am sure I will be able to find something that sparks my interest; maybe I will read up some more on that for next time.

Act/React: Field Report #2

2008-10-29T08:45:00.000-07:00

I went to the museum with my brother Josh last Saturday for Act React. I took advantage of buying a membership after learning what it all included; it really was worth it.

Scott Snibbe’s work was the first to be seen upon entering the very stylish entrance to the Act/React Show. There was an elderly couple standing about three feet apart with a single white line projected between them. Immediately, the videos we watched in class came rushing back to me. They looked pretty confused so I decided to step on. I watched their startled reactions as triangle first appeared where I was standing, then two parallel lines as I walked right between them, and ending with another triangle before I stepped off. My brother stepped on as well as a few other people that had just come in. They all smiled as they watched their own personal trapezoids follow them around the floor. I think Boundary Functions was a good name for this piece as it was well depicted in the programming. It must have infrared or something because if you stood close enough in someone’s shadow, your line would disappear and you would both occupy the same space. Or you could just touch the person next to you, as the piece suggests.

We walked across the room to Deep Walls where there was another projector mounted above a large screen comprised of 16 boxes, each with a moving silhouette inside. There were a lot of people in the frames, young and old. Josh and I walked across the screen several times, doing random things--it was really quite incredible. It would record what you did for as long as you were standing there. This one was obviously using infrared—you could see the module mounted above the projector. We decided to test it. Josh made a shadow puppet, (to exaggerating the purpose of the piece,) right in front of the projector and the result was still a silhouette, but with a white interior where the light from the projector had reflected off of his hand. We stayed there for a while, doing whatever we could think of until the screen was completely filled with us. The best one was our staged fight scene—it looked pretty realistic. Again, no one was really too shy to interact with this piece.

The next exhibit we walked into was the Liz Phillips Echo Evolution, which I have to say was a huge disappointment. All this talk in the program about sensors being able to detect where you were in the room, and it never worked. We tried it with many people in the room. We tried it by ourselves. We tried walking around the room while making noise. Then we tried running and clapping. It seemed completely random. In this exhibit, despite the darkness of the room, it was the easiest to see all of the sensors and wires. Also, when you hear the equipment making so much noise that it was hard to determine whether it was part of the soundtrack or not. I think this could have been a little more appealing if more extensive troubleshooting had been done, the soundtrack was intriguing though.

We made our way down the hall to a larger space where Brian Knep’s Healing Pool covered the floor. Unlike any of the previous work we had seen, this had 6 projectors working together to make a huge display. It was pretty basic, but very entertaining. It seemed to orient itself based on shadow (Here, again, probably infrared). If you walked across the floor, a yellow blur would follow you, erase whatever was on the floor, and then leave an orange trail. The pattern would grow back randomly from the corners and work its way in. At one point there was a person standing in each corner after the entire space was cleared, restraining the pattern from growing back. My brother took it as a representation mankind. He said 'humans destroy life so quickly that it takes a while for it to grow back’—Kinda hit the nail on the head. This was probably the most interactive piece as it allowed for the most users to participate at once.

Daniel Rozin’s mirrors were next. The wooden mirror was great… whatever technology would allow a camera to process an image and translate it by rotating several motors at different intervals was impressive. It resembled what a Photoshop stained-glass filter does to a picture. I got up close to examine it and found that each dowel of wood, except for the outside border, was cut with the same bevel… it made very little noise too, and just the fact that it was wooden was pretty cool.

The snow mirror didn’t work for us at first. We couldn’t really tell where we were supposed to stand in the room. I was kind of disappointed after standing there for 7 minutes and only getting a white splotch to appear—it seemed like the room was a little too dark. I did think that projecting that snow pattern on a wrinkled scrim made for a nice effect. After a while, a woman with white hair came into the room closely followed by a little girl dressed in white clothes. The theme of the infrared seemed to reveal itself again; as you could start to see white appearing on the screen. Then I realized I had a white shirt on under my jacket. I took off my jacket and instantly “snow” began building up where I was standing--you could even make out the insignia on my shirt. From then on we tried to mention to everyone that it worked well with white.

Janet Cardiff’s piece, To Touch, was very simplistic; the only visible technology was the 18 speakers surrounding the room (and the light above the table.) As you ran your hand along the table it would cycle through different audio tracks. It was directly proportional to where you put your hand and how fast you moved it. It was kind of creepy; like you could feel the table’s memories when you touched it. (It worked better with less people touching the table at one time.) I got curious so I looked under the table, and we counted 9 different inputs. It was a little too dark to see, but I am assuming they were coiled wires or something. The inputs were obviously for the audio, which meant that 9 separate outputs could be heard in stereo. I liked the fact that she used an old table. With all this new technology in art, it’s a nice contrast to throw in a relic every once and awhile. It was unusual to see signs next to an exhibit that say “please touch.”

I had a lot of fun “painting” in Camille Utterback’s section of the museum. The one off to the left, External Measures, was probably the least interactive of her work. It did its own thing, drawing loops until you stepped in the designated area, then a series of lines would jumble about as you walked around, in sync with your movement. Untitled #5 and #6 were very interesting. In 5, a line would start drawing based on your position, and then scattered lines would appear wherever a shadow was cast. I found that holding your arms out while spinning in a circle made for a very unique result. When you stopped moving or move away, colorful crystal-like shapes would slide into the center. Untitled #6 was the best. It had little popcorn trails that would follow you around and the same lightning like effect for shadows. At one point, Josh threw his museum guide through the air and the lighting followed it until it hit the ground, where a colored blob resulted. These blobs seemed to be proximity-oriented. When you would stand close enough to another blob (person/object), the blobs would overlap and start growing. They all were supportive of multiple users and really gave the appeal of a digital painting.

We also checked out the infinite chamber and Matrix XV in the Sensory Overload exhibit. The infinite chamber was a lot better. It had tiny incandescent bulbs sandwiched between glass and some dark fabric. The effect was very realistic. As soon as I stepped in, I looked down and it looked like I was several feet in the air; it almost made me lose my balance. You could hardly even see your reflection; it was a very well done illusion, though it was really warm in there. Matrix XV wasn’t warm at all, but it wasn’t as exciting—I think that the vibration pond rigged to the conch shell was more interesting… at least it was fun to look at while waiting in line. This exhibit had blue LEDs in tubes hanging from the ceiling and weighted down. Each of the plastic tubes was taped off at the same points to separate the light like a dotted line. When you would walk through the rows of light, your perspective would change. It was like walking into an optical illusion, it didn't feel at all like the infinite chamer.

Overall, the trip to the museum was a lot of fun and was very inspiring to me as a digital artist. Each exhibit utilized a variety of senses: sound, visuals, even touch. It’s encouraging to see what paths lie down the road—and technology will only get better. I think Marcel Duchamp would have really favored this show considering the fact that his Creative Act literally applied to each piece.

The Creative Act

2008-10-08T08:34:00.000-07:00

“All in all, the creative act is not performed by the artist alone; the spectator brings the work in contact with the external world by deciphering and interpreting its inner qualification and thus adds his contribution to the creative act.” –Marcel Duchamp.

Though a little long winded, I think the Creative Act is dead on, Marcel said it best with the above quote. After considering this concept, I feel that it should and can easily apply to all kinds of film, all kinds of art for that matter.

I’m focusing particularly on “What the Water Said” by David Gatten. Not only is it one of the most abstract films I’ve seen this semester, possibly in my whole life, but it is also a perfect starting platform from which to jump to understand the relationship between spectator and art; What the Water Said applies more blatantly in this case.

When the film was first presented to me, all I saw was scratches and heard noises. But after a while, I became used to it and it was almost comforting to have it going on in the background as the experience allowed some introspection. Much like Duchamp said, “a transference from the artist to the spectator in the form of an esthetic osmosis,” every shade of color, whether subconsciously or consciously, affects our perception in some way; every sound sets a certain mood and the results are different for everyone. The scratches moved throughout the film, slightly changing color while synchronized to the organic soundscape, it made for an excellent opportunity for us spectators to contribute with our different reactions, verbal or non verbal. Not only are the reactions different among the spectators, they are different to the individual at each viewing of the piece.

I think that bringing your own contribution is essential in viewing a film of this kind for the simple fact that there is no concrete storyline. By keeping the film abstract as such, it allows the viewer to be submerged by the content; to dive into their thoughts as well as what the artist may have been thinking at the moment of production. If you take this concept to all film and to all art, you can start to see how your contributions affect the piece.

Another important reason I chose to refer to David Gatten’s film is for the fact that he was a spectator himself, and nature was the artist. Nature is constantly presenting itself to us, its everywhere. In this case, Gatten found a way to capture it through a different lens, and recycle the process again for us to see. He became the artist and we became the spectators. If we are all just a little more open minded to bringing our contributions to art, it is easier to see how it is a two-part relationship. Gatten used film in response to nature, (in the most literal way) allowing us to see and hear what the water said; that was his way of contributing.

Traces of the Wild: The Films of Robert Schaller

2008-10-01T08:33:00.000-07:00

I attended the Robert Schaller Show last Thursday. He presented, I believe it was, nine films; each one of them had a unique way to be displayed. He started off slow with a piece called Triptych. Some of these fist films, though quite different, reminded me a lot of the first films we saw in class of Bruce Conner, where everything has a random appeal to it. Triptych was one of many “abstract” films that Schaller showed, by abstract I mean that it’s overall purpose was unclear, it had a kind of static over the screen, but made for very interesting visuals though. There was another piece with similar content he presented called It’s a baby. This was the first film I’ve ever seen using one projector on top of the other, it also had people blurred throughout its duration. I thought of it more as hot and cold as their monochrome theme so suggested (blue and orange).

Alternating the layout was a good idea as far as presentation goes, but obvious from the set up and the time it took in between, it was no easy task. The second film, Tree of Life, was run on one projector and was very mellow—frame after frame of layered trees and other outdoor imagery. The use of the video layering techniques was very inspiring. His show had other pieces that were similar to this, maybe even the same clips were used, and it all seemed to fit with an outdoor theme. My Life as a Bee was another example of this. And surprisingly enough, the use of still imagery in precise order with regard to color, really portray the flight of a bee. The screen flickered through colorful pictures of flowers.

There were some more abstract films in between, some which looked like what ultrasound machines do, just a fuzzy distortion over everything, and up till this point everything was silent, you could only hear the reels turning and the noise from the fans. I remember being pleasantly surprised when he showed If Not One and One. This one had a soundtrack and was, in my opinion, the best film he showed. It used all three projectors, but they were turned on their sides—very innovative. The music was mainly instrumental, but everyone and I while you could hear muffled words. The music was calm as the screen flipped through more outdoor images: mountains, trees, water, etc. The music changed once the visuals did, you could hear a violin in many pitches as the distortion came over the screen once again. The music swelled with its cues, it got rather eerie watching as the silhouette of a man slowly walked from the far right projector all the way to the far left.

Somewhere in here, he left the film in frame to long and it melted, something I’ve never seen up close, but the result on the screen was more interesting than the smell. Having the film itself altered produced a different but appealing effect, much like the hand altered films seen in class on the 22nd. It started to make me appreciate Mothlight and What the Water Said a little more, and I’m sure some of these films were made this way, along with some handy computer effects. If I remember correctly, he ended the show with Phrase; it was in black and white and used all three projectors again. It had a woman dancing through most of it and Schaller described how capturing the human form in a vertical window worked better in proportion to displaying it horizontally. This one had a soundtrack too and was synced up pretty well with everything going on.

Overall, It was a very inspiring and thought provoking show, my appreciation for film in general is now elevating.

Online Journal

2008-09-30T21:17:00.000-07:00

This semester I will be following the frieze magazine online. I like the layout, it's very easy to navigate!

http://www.frieze.com/magazine/