I have been considering multiple ways of presenting my work along with how I printed and displayed my images I presented for midterm critique. I really liked that layout and enjoyed that the viewer didn’t necessarily have to start or end at certain points. I felt like if I had them stacked; one on top of the other, the viewer would be inclined to “read” the images which was not the effect I desired. After doing a lot of research I found a very profound quote from Harvie Ferguson’s Self Identity and Every Day Life, which I included in an earlier blog post: “We play over the entire range of possible past experiences in recollecting events and incidents; free from the ordering of time’s original flow.” Having seen it written down and having read it to myself, that simple quote became something much heavier and allowed me to expand how I thought about presenting my work. I think the way I presented my filmstrips during critique was somewhat limiting and I do realize that it could still be “read” in a way, although they were arranged unlike lines in a book.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Idea Blog for 10/29
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Artist Blog 10/26
Keith Carter’s photography displays his interests in ornithology, astronomy, imagination, and memory-“all the things that are important; that make up a true human life.” He is referencing work entitled Utopia that is loosely inspired by surreal artist Joseph Cornell.
An essay by Bill Wittliff greatly and poetically captures Carter’s introduction to photography and his evolution and life as an artist. Carter was introduced to photography by his mother whom, after being left by her husband, took the only skill she knew and opened a small studio that specialized in child portraiture. One day Carter happened upon a photograph his mother took and was immediately inspired by her use of light. Never before had he thought of experiencing light in such a way; that it could be captured so poetically. Thus began his delve into photography and all things Ansel Adams, Henri Cartier-Bresson, and Paul Strand, as it was they who inspired his generation.
Upon moving to New York and meeting his wife, Carter became frustrated with his inability to “see;” he had not yet “found his own eyes-his unique way of seeing” and was still taking versions of photographs of everything that had been done before. After attending a film festival in Galveston where he saw Horton Foote speak, Carter became suddenly aware of his calling. He realized that the importance of everything he’d learned in the past-about photography and its history- need only be applied to the most ordinary of things. He understood the “symbolism that registers not so much in the intellect, but rather resonates in those deeper and more authentic chambers of the subconscious.” He felt that at that point he could legitimately and truly photograph.
Carter’s first book From Uncertain to Blue both features and documents his travels around 100 Texas towns where he was only allowed to take one picture per town, upon a pact with his wife who gracefully documented the trip. This journey forced Carter to observe, utilize and take pictures in ways he’d never had to before. He became confident in his own abilities and became aware that he could take pictures anywhere, at any time and under any circumstance.
Carter’s pictures resonate of memory and emanate dusty, dream-like qualities. He prefers a blur to his images and achieves it quite unconventionally—by doing everything wrong. He works with a field camera that allows him to swing the focus between the subject matter and foreground/background. At first Carter’s images seemed to have been shot by a lens baby, but after researching more about his process, it was obvious, yet intriguing to discover that he uses a certain camera, from which I was weirdly enlightened.
When not using this camera, he will focus on a piece of the image that isn’t the direct subject matter. For instance in his piece Firefly, two boys stand in a creek holding a glass jar that is alight with the fireflies they’ve caught. Though, Carter focuses on the magnolia tree in the background, as it is a staple of southern identity. The image in general reminds the viewer of when they were children. They’re not telling the viewer things they didn’t already know, but resurfacing those things we’ve all known at some point, but have just forgotten. There is optimism in Carter’s work that is refreshing and while I find myself entangled in the simplicity of his conceptual means, I find that I am dealing with much of the same things. There is, and has always been, an underlying hope in my work (through the nostalgia and pessimism) to gain a better understanding of myself. My work not only relates to Carter’s in its aesthetic, but in its concept (though opposing) as well as in its intent.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Idea Blog for 10/22
I have been considering the issue of moth’s form being unrecognizable. While a few people in the class mentioned that they’d like to see the moth more clearly because it is important to my work, I’m now starting to wonder what the moth will say to the viewer and if it’s important that they know it is a moth. Because the moth is symbolically important to me, and for my own sake and peace of mind, I will continue to use it throughout my imagery. Though-so what if it comes across as a butterfly? Will my message change? Will the relation to memory be disconnected? It will still be annoying, disruptive, and intrusive. It is a delicate creature like the moth; it is just not related to darker, prophetic states relating to the mind. Is it necessary that the audience understand this symbolism? Some have pointed out that having an identifiable moth to better get my point across to an audience may not be necessary. I think the away my images are shot, the subject matter and the fact that there is an obscuring object is enough to relate to the struggle to remember. However, I will experiment with giving the moth more of an identity. I believe Sarah suggested using a mirror’s reflection or shooting through a mirror could assist with this point.
I am considering several different ways I can present this work. I do not plan on sticking with the horizontal filmstrip. I may even move into film and have these images play on a loop, fading in and out of one another. For the time being I am going to focus on photographing more images of people, or perhaps revert back to photographing my family, specifically my sister. We’ll see, I may try photographing subject matter similar to my other 2 pieces of the door and the shoes and see what comes of it. I’m also going to play around with how I position the moth within the frame. I really like this aesthetic and I think it communicates clearly the idea of interruption or loss but perhaps it can somehow be pushed in another direction.
Lots to think about!
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Artist Blog 10/19/2009
Robbert Flick is a Dutch photographer who grew up in Amersfoort, Holland. Flick studied at the University of British Columbia at Vancouver before he moved on to achieve his MFA at UCLA. He has exhibited all over the world including shows at LACMA, the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, and the National Museum of American Art and the Smithsonian Institution in D.C. He has received a John Simon Guggenheim Fellowship and a National Endowment for the Arts grant, among many others.
Flick’s most current series Along Central is a compilation of photographs arranged as film in many strips to make up one large 7 or 8-foot piece. His work traverses Los Angeles in an effort to capture the topographic and technological changes in landscape. He began working in this fashion in the 1960’s “to concentrate on the conceptual and repetitive properties of landscape photography”(artnet) to cope with his alien environment in Los Angeles. Upon moving back to LA he noticed the vast differences in landscape; thus, his work has evolved into something of a study-an attempt to capture his subject matter as it is now, before further changes in landscape and technological advancement take place. The Los Angeles County Museum of Art held an exhibition of Flick’s work in 2004 called “Trajectories: The Photographic Work of Robbert Flick.” The museum showed a retrospect of Flick’s work to exhibit his photographic maturity and practice in capturing the geography of a landscape as well as his transition from film to digital. These segments provide “a physical, cultural, socio-economic and historical geography of the Los Angeles region.”
The imagery in Along Central is captured how Flick was experiencing it; by driving his car. Flick’s images are divided by the seams left between the images. In some areas this is distracting; halves of cars interrupt the what-would-be gradual flow of each strip. In other areas this aesthetic works, and may even contribute, because the subject matter is not entirely organic. There are hard lines of the buildings, and while windows and awnings don’t necessarily line up it is interesting to observe the changes in composition of one building between several images. Throughout the entire collection I can view each image and appreciate it as its own, or I can view a section of several images of the same building or same stoplight and enjoy the progression. Flick has these strips lined up so that the viewer reads them like a book. However, I think because of the seams between images along with the fact that the imagery doesn’t line up it would be much more effective and better contribute to the overall flow if he allowed the eye to move easily left to right, right to left and so on, instead of having to pause between each strip. Perhaps using the method he has is a way for the viewer to spend more time with the piece, or more obviously, to communicate order. Overall Flick’s segment work is very interesting to “read” and allows me to understand why and how certain aesthetics function within my own work.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Artist Lecture, Ulrich, Kerry McDonnell
I had a profound interest in the subject matter, which I believe was one of his goals. The fact that he shoots in such large formats really assists the audience in micro-analyzing and observing these spaces, and in cases where people are involved, their interaction with or role in the space. In his “chapter” Retail he discussed the products shot in these stores as becoming just as important or just as representative as the public. Companies and manufacturers create these products that will appeal to the public, and they do-they sell. Looking at these images is like looking at a self-portrait. The fact that we buy into these manufactured, consumerist ideas tells us exactly who we are as a society or as individuals.
His work in Thrift did feel like it was missing something. He mentioned that he is not one to point fingers, and his images did no such thing, but there is some kind of disconnect from the images. While they’re interesting to analyze, they haven’t quite been taken to the next level where a clear statement could be derived. Perhaps, because I know the images of people are staged, the images are thrown slightly and they seem less legitimate. That may be a shallow observation but I feel like when he had a great intention to obtain these “street” photographs of people in places he may not have supposed to be in makes the work seem that much more worth it. I suppose in Thrift it’s because of a lack of struggle.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Idea Blog for 10/15
Well, midterms are around the corner and after having a quick talk today with Tom I can definitely say I feel a lot more confident in my work thus far. All that’s left is to work out the rest of the kinks in my concept and get everything printed.
For quite some time I’ve felt that this work has been forced, perhaps because I am creating in ways I never have before and coming out with a product completely different from my usual work. I was nervous starting this process and wasn’t entirely convinced by it. I spent hours researching, trying to find information to back up my claims. Though getting caught up in the details isn’t necessarily a bad thing, I wound myself up to the point where I was having trouble separating the details in talking about my work. Now that I’ve calmed down a little I can go back and sift through everything I’ve collected and reconsider their meanings in reference to my work.
While roaming Google I came across a book called Self-Identity and Everyday Life by Harvie Ferguson. In his chapter Interruption: Memory he references a quote by Michael de Montaigne-
“…it was so long ago that I cannot remember anything about myself then.”
You’d never see me more thrilled. Here I had been struggling with finding information about loss of memory as a loss of self and here it is! While it’s obviously not stated directly in this quote, it is beautifully implied. While the reading in this specific excerpt is incredibly dense, it’s very interesting and incredibly profound.
“And because memory is always a present experience it is absolutely bound to the flow of time. A memory I am going to have tomorrow will not arrive until that moment; a memory I had yesterday is already in the past and, while I recollect having it, cannot be revisited. But, whenever it comes, and in a remarkable way, memory is completely free from the temporal constraint of immediate experience. We play over the entire range of possible past experiences in recollecting events and incidents; free from the ordering of time’s original flow. And, in fact, we can exercise some limited control and direction over memory and use it deliberatively.” (By the author, 2nd paragraph of the chapter).
I was struggling with the continuation of each piece after the moth makes itself present. In retrospect, I have an incredibly easy time considering these “memories” as free from time’s flow. I like that the moth exists within a space or a “memory” whose “beginning” and “end” are not entirely certain. It exists as a lapse where no certain beginning and end are defined. The change in focus between background and foreground, between moth and memory, reference no specific point and therefore can exist at any “time” within the memory. I also see the moth’s undulating form as relating to mood swings. There is no explanation for how a mood is changed, or no specific point where one can reference a change in mood. It’s a gradual change over time which is perfectly illustrated by the swinging of focus.
Another wonderful quote that helped me ground my concept is taken from the same book:
“It is not Romantic striving or self-realization that actualizes the self; rather it is a recollection of the past for which the present is the culmination.”
Reading this only reinforces my ideas that a loss of memory correlates a loss of self. The awareness of one’s past allows one to exist as who they are in the present. If parts of one’s past are forgotten, could you not agree that part of oneself has been lost along with the memory?
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Artist Blog 10/12
Placement (Two Moons) 2007, 14x20.5", Julianne Swartz, 2007
Julianne Swartz’s work in Placement is a series of photographs showing a hand holding a mirror that reflects the opposite horizon of which the viewer is facing. She does not comment very specifically about this piece (or any of her photographic work, for that matter.) An article I found by Mixed Greens, an online gallery, gives some insight as to how Swartz operates as an artist and the surface themes of her work. Flatly, she creates work where the extraordinary can co-exist with the mundane. She enjoys the juxtaposition of opposing ideas such as mysterious vs. apparent or beautiful and banal (MG). Swartz “takes photographs to capture that experience within a daily context.” She continues stating that she waits for the instant when the light in its shifting form allows the ordinary to become the remarkable (MG). What I enjoy about the work in Placement, and Swartz’s other work, is that she finds a method to materialize intangible elements such as light, sound, and/or air into atmospheric substances that one could experience physically—substances that you could hold in your hand.
I find her work in Placement as disruptive, yet enlightening. Conceptually, the obvious would be that hand and mirror are disrupting the audiences’ immediate view. While doing so, the viewer is interested in what is being reflected by the mirror and its displacement within the image. As a whole, the mirror acts as some sort of portal; perhaps a reminder of the past or a glimpse of the future, the blurred and silhouetted hands serving as the synaptic gaps between the past and future (the present space and the space represented in the mirror). I suppose one could relate it to the black matter that exists in space. I find the stronger images are those that have a busier chromatic space reflected in the mirror, while the background of the immediate space is much less detailed and monotone. The idea presented here is that one could reach out and grab the space existing in the mirror, as the shape of the mirror is not precisely defined; the image within the mirror forms to however the hand is holding it. I almost feel like the space being reflected could exist and manifest itself within the subject. This reminds me of a beautiful quote I once read: “I am a part of the Universe, and the Universe is a part of me.” Her work in Placement transcends that of existing space and gives rise to questions relating to the experience of intangible elements. It questions our ability to grasp and understand these elements simply by displacing a space within another in a form it is not commonly observed.