While browsing Google for experimental video I came across Italian filmmaker Donato Sansone’s Videogioco. I probably spent close to 2 hours trying to find a website but was only able to find him featured on a ton of blogs, his Vimeo and MySpace sites which both give little information about the artist. They did, however, boast quite a few very intriguing videos. The two that I found most interesting are completely unrelated to each other in concept and process.
Videogioco, Italian for Videogame, combines 2D drawing, flipbook-style motion and stop-frame processing to create an interesting take on a cartoon action sequence. The film focuses on a character whose head, having been dismembered by a rival, travels throughout the sequence by being punted, swallowed and cut only to land back on its body for a final punch. The video loops so that the end picks up at the beginning. What’s interesting is that you see the artist’s hand involved not only in the movement of the paper, but also in the storyline itself. He interacts with the characters by acting as the puppeteer, but also by-for instance- helping the dog who swallowed the head regurgitate it back into motion. The sound effects are intriguing and I do feel like I am watching a cartoon. The graphic nature of sound used reminds me of cartoons like Ren and Stimpy. The fact that he’s added in the sound of the paper flipping I think is wonderful because it emphasizes what exactly this piece is comprised of and I like that it acknowledges the fact that it’s not a traditionally-made cartoon. I am impressed by the amount of work that went into this piece as well as the organization and overall flow. The subject matter is easy to follow and more exciting every time I watch it.
The second film is called App-Circulatorio. It is narrated in Italian and discusses the flow of blood throughout the body and the function of the heart, veins and capillaries, among other organs. This video features a male subject whose body is overlaid by a graphic of internal organs. The subject moves quite a bit throughout the film and the graphic moves along with him. It’s interesting to watch, at least, how the graphic behaves when the subject moves. It’s interesting watching the color that emphasizes the organs the narrator is speaking about; it’s kind of like watching someone paint. There is a very stylized artistic effect being executed here and while the graphics are very advanced, I feel like I could be looking at a diagram from Da Vinci’s notebook.
While I think my images do have a style of their own I’d like to be able to push that even further and get even more specific with how I use light and photograph my subject matter as well as establish an easy flow with my filmstrips as well as in my videos.
(I'm not entirely sure if a blog is due tomorrow, but here's an update anyway...)
I've been incredibly busy with everything but school work since I've been home. This is my first visit back to NOVA in about 2 months--which is some sort of record. It's refreshing being home and with my family and friends again and I feel inspired to move forward with my concept and create stronger, more involved work. I have renewed patience and hope that I am moving in a positive direction and that everything I've endured while photographing at home will be very well worth it.
I feel like a different person from when I started this semester. It's an interesting thought to consider the parallels between the concept of my work and the growth I've had over the past few months. My confidence has grown in my work, conceptually and technically and I feel sort of impervious to things that would've bothered me before this year. Coming full circle and concentrating this work on myself rather than on my siblings has enabled me to realize and face my own fears. When I was working with Michael and Hayley I think I was using them and their innocence as an escape. They are the closest thing to my childhood beside my own memories and they are still at that in-between age where they can still feel like children; they can still be ignorant and naive without second guessing themselves. But I suppose at the end of the day, once I was alone, the journey I took with my brother and sister was only a false hope for myself to overcome something I was too scared to face on my own. And while I do feel like I've grown as a person, there are still parts of me that feel like they're missing. There are parts of who I was a few years ago that I need to remember so that I can become whole as who I am now. Growing as an artist and a big sister is only a very small part of who I need and want to be.
Wings, digital photograph, Elizabeth Fleming, 2007
Dust Bunny, digital photograph, Elizabeth Fleming, 2007
Hand Prints, digital photograph, Elizabeth Fleming, 2007
I am blown away by Elizabeth Fleming’s documentary style of photography. At first I found her work to be fairly superficial; a stay-at-home mom with a camera and nothing better to do. But after having enveloped myself in her work I can say that she is probably my favorite documentary/narrative photographer. Her work successfully encompasses and illustrates everything I’d like to communicate concerning my issues at home. Her work Life is a Series of Small Moments I & II effectively captures the in-betweens of daily life. The transient moments that aren’t quite here nor there. She elusively transcends words, yet manages to say so much. I admire her use of light and perspective in that they make the viewer feel they are seeing this image for themselves, as though one was actually present for such an instance, taking the picture themselves. Her images are comical, nostalgic, hopeful, and melancholy all at the same time. When viewing her work I feel a rush of emotion I can neither control nor want to control. Her work provides such a release that I feel inspired and brand new and excited to create work of my own.
Her artist statement describes her work perfectly: “Part of me is scared to reveal too much—but perhaps the tension between showing and withholding is where the intimacy lies; not in stripping everything away but in respecting my sometimes guarded nature. I’m riding a line, creating a push-and-pull in the coming together of mystery and revelation, discovery and hiding.I feel compelled to examine ordinary moments, to fight against my obsessive-compulsive rooted-in-the-mind-and-not-the-world tendencies through the act of being present behind the lens as I find poignancy in the commonplace. I’m there as a record keeper, and it is through repeatedly catching these instants that I become more and more able to anticipate them, which at times gives them a cinematic or allegorical air. But fundamentally, it’s about really seeing: honestly looking and observing and loving the visual, and then carefully editing and arranging my images.”
The part that allows me to really connect to her work is the last sentence in her statement that reads: “Each photograph has had a very particular journey, and has been fussed and sighed over and stated at until it reaches the state where I can say, ‘I am ready to present it to you.’” When photographing at home, there is such a pressure to feel okay with and cope with having to show my images to an audience and to have to explain the meaning behind them. It’s a struggle to force outward my existence within my head; because by doing that it means I’m verifying all that’s happened to me and suddenly everything becomes real and so much more complicated. But at the same time, photographing those suddenly-physical thoughts helps me to cope with the idea that these things no longer exist just to me, but can still remain personal.
Waterline, image size: 11x16", 17 framed c-prints/wood/paint, Francis Cape, 2006
London Avenue, 96x156x36", poplar/text/sandbags, Francis Cape, 2008
Francis Cape is the visiting lecturer for the sculpture department. Cape apprenticed a wood carver in York England before studying sculpture at the City and Guilds of London Art School where he achieved his BFA before moving on to achieve his masters at Goldsmiths College at the University of London. He is represented by the Chelsea and Murray Galleries and has been featured in a number of group and solo exhibitions worldwide.
Francis Cape’s lecture was a huge disappointment. Having viewed his work online I was really interested hearing what he had to say. Unfortunately, for a majority of the time he spoke about other artist’s work who I assume he was influenced by. These artists included painters, furniture designers and photographers, among others. He spoke very little about his work and from what information he was giving us I concluded that one would have to understand the history and function of furniture in the mid-late 1800’s in Britain as well as the history and fundamentals of European Socialism. His concepts were very dense and jumped around quite a bit between the history and use of furniture in England to the destruction in New Orleans and the aftermath of Katrina as a result of the Bush administration. I had a huge issue relating to his work based on just the imagery and sadly found myself even more disconnected from it while listening to Cape share his ideas.
Cape also refused to share his current work being shown at the Anderson currently because he didn't want to deter us from seeing the exhibition itself. Kate and I were discussing that seeing the work on a large screen is going to be a completely different experience from seeing it in person in a gallery space. A majority of the work he did show us were what looked like unfinished walls with dressers or small desks and shelves attached to the wall frame. The gaps between the wood supports and the patterns they formed were interesting, coupled with the more refined forms of the desks created an interesting juxtaposition. However, most of this related to having to do with furniture made in the mid 1900’s in England as a result of the world wars; furniture was made to be accessible by the public and with as few materials as possible. They were meant to be functional on multiple levels. He tied this idea in with Katrina by making the dimension of the wall in said piece (he gave no titles) the same dimensions as walls in homes near New Orleans that suffered as a result of the hurricane. He also suggested that the fragmentation visible in his unfinished walls (I assume in reference to the gaps between supports) was mean to discuss the role of the viewer in that the viewer finishes the piece and not the artist.
Cape’s work is clearly political and while I’m not very interested in this type of work I thought he made some interesting points about the Bush administration. For instance, a few pieces he showed us comprised of wooden screens that he made in response to the Bush administration’s “murdering” of the English language to conceal or hide things from the public.
One piece that I thought was the most refined and accessible was called Waterline which is an installation that involves a yellow painted chair rail or wainscoting above which framed pictures of destroyed homes in New Orleans are displayed. The yellow chair rail was meant to illustrate the water lines left by flooding from Katrina as well as a way to domesticate the gallery space in an effort to bridge the gap between what one heard in the news about Katrina and Cape’s own experiences in New Orleans. Generally it was in effort to separate oneself from the gallery space so that they may genuinely experience the destruction, though abstractly.
I did a shoot for Ink magazine at the Byrd over the weekend that focused on fashion in iconic films like Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and The Devil Wears Prada. In total we did 6 shoots for 6 final images to be run in Ink’s February issue. It was great to be able to work with a team again and not have to worry about doing the styling and makeup and photography all by myself like I did for a majority of my fashion shoots over the summer. I was able to focus on just the photography and hone in on the details for each specific shoot. I worked with about 10 models in a 5-hour period.
Lighting was an issue and a lot of problem solving was involved. I had help from my flash for the really dark areas, but I really didn’t like the way they were coming out as I was having trouble balancing the light coming from my flash with the incandescent light and the sunlight being filtered through stained glass. So: a majority of the shots were taken in the lobby/entrance area where the glass doors allow in a lot of natural light. Not to mention it was a cloudy day so the light was beautifully diffused. It was definitely a challenge to not make those shoots look like they were all taken in the same area.
Again, it was nice to be able to work on something not class-related and it was a great opportunity to network.
I’ve managed to create a short experimental video (about 8 seconds) taking about 20 images from one of my shoots with the moth. It’s pretty cool to be able to see it in motion and the progression of the moth’s position throughout the film. It’s allowed me to see where I need to make transitions smoother and certain parts longer. For instance, the swing in focus between background and foreground needs to be more gradual in the clip I’m working on. I am having an issue, though, getting it to loop without having a black frame and a large jump between the first and last images in the film strip instead of it transitioning directly back to the first frame. There is a choppiness to the film that I enjoy as it reminds me of seeing light flash as something passes in front of a light source. It even more so suggests the movement of the moth’s wings, though not present in each picture. However I think the transition is a little too choppy, but the fastest transition available on the program I’m using is .125/s. I’m going to try this on another program more suitable for projects like this and I’m sure I’ll get the results I desire.
What initially drew me to Nadine Rovner’s work was her Portfolio III series. The slight blur and shifty movement of her subject matter coupled with the odd shape of her images and the hazy periphery around what’s visible is intriguing and I could imagine myself creating images like this. While the subject matter in some of these images throws me, I find myself more attracted to -and interactive with- her aesthetic. Her lack of quality lighting and interruptive focus makes me want to dig deeper; to find out exactly what I’m being shown and the meaning behind it. I find myself wrapped up in the fringes between the ghosts of objects that aren’t quite “there,” and the haze of light that contradictorily interrupts the space.
At first I didn’t have a clue as to what’s going on and I was okay with that. I thought the mystery is what makes them. I viewed this series as a sequence of thought or perhaps the strange linear narrative of a dream; in the greater scheme of things they make perfect sense. But after looking at them further, I realized that I’m annoyed and excited at the same time. Excited and in awe of her ability to create such an atmosphere and to capture her subject matter so poetically, yet annoyed that I may be missing something. Perhaps what’s happening is that I can read too deep into her images and that there aren’t enough possibilities. I have no issue relating these images to dreams. Though, like a dream, it only makes sense to the dreamer.
I worry my work is limited in a way that it is rendered almost inaccessible and will only be taken at face value. While the moth is personal to me, I do think that it is something that needs to be communicated to the viewer as I think its counterpart, the butterfly, suggests something entirely different. Looking through Rovner’s work has encouraged me to consider more seriously how I am taking my images and what certain subject matter suggests. I’m also inspired and intrigued by the dreamlike quality of focus and light in her work and I will strive to push my aesthetic further and explore other avenues for creating memory-like spaces.
The Attraction of Onlookers, Video Still, Shimon Attie, 2006
The Attraction of Onlookers, Video Still, Shimon Attie, 2006
The Attraction of Onlookers, Video Still, Shimon Attie, 2006
I had a really hard time taking Shimon Attie’s work seriously for a number of reasons. For one we had a lot of technical difficulties with his slides and the projector and he was very unprofessional about addressing the mishaps. He never failed to condemn the utilities available to us and how they’re insufficient for showing his work. I also thought he spoke very highly of himself and down to the audience. I was almost offended listening to him speak to us and as well as about his work. Overall his demeanor was not charming and he seemed very unapproachable.
His more recent work was interesting, but I was distracted by the ornamentation of his presentation; videos of his work introduced by poems that he wrote along with an established Welsh writer and the credits that scrolled beforehand was all very dramatic and theatrical and frankly, quite comical. As I said, I had a very hard time taking him and his work seriously. His piece The Attraction of Onlookers which focuses on the Aberfan, was presented this way. It was a tragic avalanche accident in a small village in Wales where all of the village’s children were killed, as the avalanche collided with the town’s only school. It has become a center for disaster tourism and Attie strove to create work that would normalize the town and its people. He hoped it would serve as a means to help the populous to overcome such an event. The Attraction of Onlookers is video work in which live persons are filmed in frozen poses on an invisible rotating stage. He wanted the viewer to be able to examine and observe these people, much like how their town became like a fishbowl after the incident. He also wanted to illustrate the effects of trauma with the frozen poses. Attie wanted to depict the kind of people who lived in every Welsh village; “Every Welsh village has a...,” and while he wanted to universalize these people and make them relatable, I don’t think he did it positively. It seemed to me that he was stereotyping these people. When speaking about this piece, I felt like the way he was talking about it suggested he was making fun of the kind of people who exist in a Welsh village. I felt like he was isolating them even more and maybe even being slightly disrespectful.
One thing I connected to during the lecture was his discussion of memory as a substantial thing to the person who the memory belongs to, yet it is not physical enough to grasp and an unsatisfactory way of being able to truly re-experience something. I’m not entirely sure what it was in relation to as it was a tangent off of another subject, but nevertheless I found it interesting to consider within my own work.
Perfume 01, 11x14", Digital Photograph, Kerry McDonnell & Patrick Phillips, 2009
Perfume 02, 11x14", Digital Photograph, Kerry McDonnell & Patrick Phillips, 2009
Patrick and I have taken it upon ourselves to go into the studio and shoot! We’ve actually had quite a lot of fun and have produced some interesting work. It’s nice to be able to get away from working on “artsy” stuff and just experiment. We’ve been doing mostly product photography thus far but hope to move into shooting models within a week or two. This is a really great opportunity to let our creative juices flow freely and just create without having to think too much about what we’re doing. We’ve had a lot of happy accidents which has pushed us to experiment more and to make work what we have at hand. Not to mention, this helps out with my 150 images as well as reinforce everything I’ve learned in studio over the past year and half. It’s also interesting to think of this as another portfolio.
Last week we shot Patrick’s bike on a whim because we both forgot to bring things to shoot. We got the lighting set up and shot quite a bit within only an hour or so. What was so great was that we barely had to Photoshop anything out; only a wood block that was holding up the bike. This Monday I brought in a perfume bottle that we photographed for about 2 hours. At first we tried to emulate similar product shots you’d see in a magazine, but figured we needed to make it our own. The bottle was sitting on this really wonky piece of frosted plexi-glass that seriously distorted the reflection. So, we worked with it. What seemed like endless trips to the water fountain to fill up 2 water bottles was totally worth it in the end. We used the water to further distort the reflection or to just get rid of it. We also really enjoyed working with an element that’s somewhat uncontrollable.
Patrick and I have planned to alternate ideas-one day he’ll bring in something and the next I will. It’s great being able to act as the art director one week and the photographer the next. Since senior portfolio doesn’t meet that often it also gives us an opportunity to discuss and interact and bounce ideas off one another for a few hours a week. It’s such a drastic change from seeing your classmates everyday to barely once a week. This is a great exercise for both of us and allows us to hone our technical skills along with exercising conceptually in senior portfolio.
The Man Who Was't There (2000, Joel Coen), Digital Composite, Brendan Dawes, 2004
The French Connection (1971 William Freidkin), Digital Composite, Brendan Dawes, 2004
Vertigo (1958, Alfred Hitchcock), Digital Print, Brendan Dawes, 2004
Brendan Dawes is an interactive (graphic) designer based in Manchester, England where he works as the Creative Director for an interactive design company called magneticNorth (mN).
Brendan correlates his interest in computers and graphic design to his love of video games as a child and the hours he spent playing them at arcades near his home. On his website, he lists a handful of computers that he owned growing up and their profound functionality for the time. However, Dawes stated that most of the schools back then greatly underestimated the impact computers would have. Unfortunately he did not pursue a career in computing, but graduated school with a GCSE in art. He joined a local freelance photography agency where he mostly shot news stories found in local papers, which he would photograph and try to sell to the regional papers. Occasionally-given the success of the story-he would try to sell them to the national newspapers.
Upon discovering Mac computers and Adobe Photoshop, Dawes became interested in creating websites. He explains that he set out looking for source code on very early versions of websites-before you could even center text. He eventually created his first site about the original Outer Limits TV series. He used this site as a showcase for his abilities and landed a job with a web design company called Subnet. This was an experimental try at making web design a business, which actually took off. Some of the company’s clients were Disney and Fox Kids. After leaving that company, Dawes created several sites; one dedicated to the graphic design legend Saul Bass. The 2nd: a flash application that allowed you to edit together your own version of the Psycho shower scene. Upon seeing Hillman Curtis speak at a Macromedia Convention, Dawes was invited by Curtis to join him in a speaking engagement at Macromedia Web World in Seattle to talk about his sites.
After his Seattle trip, Dawes was then approached by his current employer, magneticNorth.
One of Dawes’ less interactive projects, Cinema Redux, he “explores the idea of distilling a whole film down to one single image.” This series is comprised of 8 pieces, each one of Dawes' favorite films from eight of his most admired filmmakers including Sidney Lumet, Francis Ford Coppola and John Boorman. He explains that each film is processed through a Java program that “samples a movie every second and generates an 8x6 pixel image of the frame at that moment in time. It does this for the entire film, with each row representing one minute of film time.”
John Walters of the Guardian discusses Dawes' work: “Film students, academics and obsessives with time on their hands may use Dawes’ grids to postulate new theories about the language of film.”
Each image allows you to see the editing styles of each director and the difference between films. It’s like viewing the DNA of each film, or perhaps a more direct window into the symbolism or the figurative and literal composition of each film. As I am contemplating ideas for presentation, this would be an interesting path to travel and it makes me wonder what taking a very long sequence of memory and distilling it to one image would say. And, like last week’s artist Martin Wilson, I can relate the general composition of my images to the overall composition of his distilled films; the many parts that make up one larger image.
In 2008 Cinema Redux was featured in the ground breaking exhibition Design and the Elastic Mind at the MoMA.
I have to confess that I haven’t had much time to photograph lately as I have been unable to go home and photograph my sister and spaces of my house. I have, however, done a few things around my house in Richmond. I have worked on making the moth clearer as well as shooting in a few spaces similar to those I’d shoot at home. After reviewing the video of my midterm critique I jotted down a few ideas from that as well as referenced some comments made on my midterm critique blog a few weeks ago. I’m a little confused as to where to go from here. At this point I feel like I’ve nailed down my aesthetic and now presentation is my big issue. I am absolutely considering making these into stop-motion films, but I’m not sure how much I want-or need-to deviate from my 3 midterm pieces.
A few things I jotted down were:
-Make the moth more obvious
-Make the filmstrips longer
-Swing focus back and forth more in each piece between moth and background. I think this could help in making the strips longer; I could swing the focus back and forth more and only have one point where the moth is blatant and completely in focus.
-If I choose to make these more current pieces into a film, I need to shoot the “beginning” and “end” frames so that they transfer more smoothly to show a continuous loop. I don’t want there to be any weird jumps between the end and beginning. That would, obviously, suggest that there is a specific linear narrative.
-I will also consider the relationship between background and foreground and experiment with what happens if the 2 blend at certain points.
Along with creating a stop-motion film I was considering organizing and displaying the filmstrips vertically, though I’m not sure what that might suggest. AND if they weren’t all exactly the same length I’d have an issue with what the composition of a group of vertical filmstrips would say.
It was incredibly uncomfortable watching the video of my midterm critique. I noticed that I wasn’t very engaging when reading my statement to the class. I probably could’ve looked up more or had more of the statement memorized. I also noticed that I bit my lip a lot.
Two things really bothered me:
1.) My facial expression barely ever changed and I generally looked pretty spaced out. It looked like I had very little interest in whatever critique I was being given and that the notes I was taking was for the sake of taking notes.
2.) I nod way too much and was generally pretty silent throughout my entire critique. It was oddly distracting and gave the impression that I wasn’t engaging with or listening to the speaker or connecting/applying the critique to my work.
Among other things; I didn’t pose many questions to the class about my work, I was leaning against the wall for most of my critique and looked like I was hunched as if bracing myself for the possible gauntlet. Improved posture would speak much higher of myself as an artist and my confidence in my work instead of huddling in a corner.
It was wonderful being able to hear my critique over again to sort of give me a push to continue creating work and expanding my concept. I am incredibly happy with my critique and value everything that was said. I’m excited to continue working now that I’ve nailed (for the most part) my concept down and have a clearer vision of what direction I need to be heading.
Double Yellow Lines, 1414x400mm,Digital Print of Film Composite, Martin Wilson
Modern Art, 3355x455 mm, Digital Print of Film Composite, Martin Wilson
Look Both Ways, 504x595mm, Digital Print of Film Composite, Martin Wilson
I had difficult time finding information about Martin Wilson. His work is featured on a ton of blogs, but unfortunately not much information accompanies his images aside from a brief summary and a few sentences quoted from his website, which also gives little away.
Martin Wilson is a photographer (I’d consider him more of a graphic artist) based in London. His images are taken with 35mm film in a painstaking sequence that document his travels or quick lunch-time walks that are later scanned and made into contact sheets on the computer. It is important to understand that his images are very greatly organized and that no Photoshop trickery is involved. His images are taken consecutively and it is not until the film is scanned and the strips are laid out side by side to make a contact sheet that the final image appears. His final images are mostly text that somehow relate to the subject matter of his images. What I find most interesting about Wilson’s process is that if he makes a mistake he begins the film again from the beginning.
“The works are all records of real journeys, the visual remnants of hours walking or cycling round town, bringing to life the unheard voices of the city.”
He explains that he has developed his habit of obsessively taking photographs from his father who always told him to “make every picture count” and that-by displaying the whole film, showcasing each negative frame-he is subconsciously trying to prove to his father that he has followed his advice and hasn’t wasted one shot.
In the one article I did manage to find, Wilson talks about his process in his piece Modern Art, which the final image reads “Modern Art is Rubbish,” and each frame, appropriately, is a photograph of rubbish. He also discusses the idea of consuming the contents of every potato chip bag, fast food wrapper and beer can he has photographed (I assume he’s at least half joking...), though it would be interesting to think about what that inclusion to his process would further suggest about his work, however disgusting.
While my artwork is not nearly as painstaking in its process, I do enjoy the relation of taking photographs in a sequence to make one larger image; each frame in Wilson’s work is imperative to making his final piece, just as each frame showing the gradual swing of focus is important to mine. I think there is the same level of interest in examining each frame individually and just as obvious a narrative between my work and his. Lastly, I’m interested in the idea that while each frame makes up one larger image or composition in Wilson’s work, though a more obvious statement, the undulating focus and position of the moth in my images could also make up one larger composition.
