http://vimeo.com/70885581
"The Casting" is a short film and novel by video artist Omer Fast that presents one or two narratives seemingly seamlessly woven into one another. Fast interviews a soldier who tells a story about a German girl he goes on a date with, and about his vehicle running over an IED. The entire story is fabricated, then edited together using sound bites to create a new story, apparently ungrounded entirely from reality. The book form of the work contains the story that's being told along with photographs of the interview and of these scenes. Every picture is a still from a short video that was taken of that scene. A picture of two soldiers standing along side their vehicle is taken from a short clip of them awkwardly standing in a position that mimics running, and the wind and dust of the Middle East (California) ensures that no one can stand still for long. Even the shots of the interview are fake. Omer is seen in the book talking to the subject, mid word when the photo was taken, but the video shows Omer quietly sitting with his mouth half open, saying nothing, giving the illusion that he was engaged in conversation.
The two narratives blend together to create a third, more fluid story line that seems to jump around the world and back with no regard to the reader. Fast edited the interview extensively to create this story, and the audience isn't sure what is true and what isn't, even though they were fully engaged. This is interesting considered one short bit of the story in which fast asks the viewer how he knew he wasn't dreaming. The subject pauses for a moment is admits he can't really know. I suppose that this is the foundation of the work as a whole. Fast ends the film by saying that he is interested in how memory turns into narrative that is ungrounded from reality by means of time. He also says he isn't sure if this story (the story he is being told in the interview) will work, because it has taken up nearly 30 minutes, which contradicts the films 15 minute run time. This quick remark by Fast informs the audience that there is much they weren't told, even though the story seemed complete and believable.
Monday, December 8, 2014
Sunday, December 7, 2014
Katrin Freisager
So I want to write about this work because when I initially see it I'm uninterested. I don't really like it off the bat. Abstractions using the human body tend to bore me because I feel like I've seen those pictures so many times. I'm going to try though, I'm going to talk about the work in an attempt to understand it before I dismiss it.
The first thing I notice in the work is the bold disruptions the artist has placed throughout the entire length of the frame. The foremost limbs create a visual entity so strongly out of place that I am made aware of the space the photograph was made in. Immediately after that realization, I notice the soft Robin's egg blue of the backdrop on which these fleshly amalgamations take form. Again, this color provides a sense of depth (unlike something warm, like orange, which would collapse the scene into a studio), but it also just looks nice by responding to the reds, oranges, and yellows of the skin, of which there is a lot. One thing I do genuinely like about the work is how quickly the artist references the space the photo was made in without making it too direct. This is something that interests me deeply, a photograph as a stage, and a "photograph that knows it's a photograph".
The clothing that the women are wearing is interesting. Lot's of nylon looking stuff, so I think of dancers. I don't want to think that though, because that's such I silly way to approach dance in terms of photography; a sliding mess of body parts. Because of that, I don't believe that the artist is trying to do that, so I am still unsure of many of the artists choices. One thing that I do notice about the clothes is that they don't seem to change. Neither does the color, or the lighting. Because these elements don't vary throughout the photos, I'm led to believe that they are all of the same environment and timeframe. Is this a form of documentation? Is the art not the photograph, but the "sculpture"? Calling it a sculpture implies objectification, which seems evident because no faces are shown, only bits of bodies. Lots of legs, too, which are considered sexy parts of women. Weird. Uncomfortable. That's how I feel. I feel like the artist is inviting me to join in a morbid game of Twister that I can't involve myself in as a guy. Now I'm on a tangent, and my mind is making a million connections. A true can of worms has been opened, each one coloring the work in a different way, slowly closing me off from anything the artist had intended to communicate. Does that mean I've failed the work? Has the work failed me?
The first thing I notice in the work is the bold disruptions the artist has placed throughout the entire length of the frame. The foremost limbs create a visual entity so strongly out of place that I am made aware of the space the photograph was made in. Immediately after that realization, I notice the soft Robin's egg blue of the backdrop on which these fleshly amalgamations take form. Again, this color provides a sense of depth (unlike something warm, like orange, which would collapse the scene into a studio), but it also just looks nice by responding to the reds, oranges, and yellows of the skin, of which there is a lot. One thing I do genuinely like about the work is how quickly the artist references the space the photo was made in without making it too direct. This is something that interests me deeply, a photograph as a stage, and a "photograph that knows it's a photograph".
There is something grotesque or off-putting about piles of arms and legs sitting comfortably in a light blue space. This juxtaposition I feel is the beginning of the conceptual side of these works. I'm not sure exactly what is being shown to me, but I can now use this initial confusion as the framework for the rest of my questions. Also, all the bodies seem to belong to white girls of a "normal" build. I suppose that makes sense though, as the artist is European.
The clothing that the women are wearing is interesting. Lot's of nylon looking stuff, so I think of dancers. I don't want to think that though, because that's such I silly way to approach dance in terms of photography; a sliding mess of body parts. Because of that, I don't believe that the artist is trying to do that, so I am still unsure of many of the artists choices. One thing that I do notice about the clothes is that they don't seem to change. Neither does the color, or the lighting. Because these elements don't vary throughout the photos, I'm led to believe that they are all of the same environment and timeframe. Is this a form of documentation? Is the art not the photograph, but the "sculpture"? Calling it a sculpture implies objectification, which seems evident because no faces are shown, only bits of bodies. Lots of legs, too, which are considered sexy parts of women. Weird. Uncomfortable. That's how I feel. I feel like the artist is inviting me to join in a morbid game of Twister that I can't involve myself in as a guy. Now I'm on a tangent, and my mind is making a million connections. A true can of worms has been opened, each one coloring the work in a different way, slowly closing me off from anything the artist had intended to communicate. Does that mean I've failed the work? Has the work failed me?
I don't know.
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Olafur Elisasson - The Weather Project - Simulations
http://www.ted.com/talks/olafur_eliasson_playing_with_space_and_light?language=en#t-133726
This is a TED talk by Olafur Eliasson, who is an installation artist primarily, and very active in the contemporary scene. I'm not going to try to sum him up entirely, or even just his artistic career. I will however briefly talk about some of the work he has done and what I find interesting about it. I first learned of him through a site called moonmoonmoonmoon. It's a 3D space that exists on a server, accessible through a browser, that hosts a large white sphere. On this sphere, anyone is invited to draw whatever they please, and the results are shown publicly and simultaneously; everyone has access to this moon.
This work is a good primer on what he is primarily interested in. An activation of space, one that is usually considered anti-social (the Tate Modern's Turbine Hall, various white-wall galleries, etc). In a sense, he create simulations. In his work "The Weather Project", the Tate modern played host to a simulated Sun, which was accompanied by a subtle fog, and a massive mirror in the ceiling so visitors could lounge on the floor looking up at themselves. More recently, he has simulated a rocky mountain side featuring a small stream running through a gallery space. The seemingly featureless, grey landscape was only broken by the trickle of water that bisects the room. This stream is also the beginning of a narrative.
So what interests me most about all of this is why anyone would be engaged by a simulation of something when the "real thing" is so quotidian. A 2D, orange circle in place of a star, a room half full with pebbles as opposed to an actual field. What makes such shallow "copies" of these environments even remotely meaningful or seizing? I like the idea that we find a simulation of something more meaningful compared to the "real" thing because we know that effort, time, and creativity was put into the creation of it.
We can appreciate The Weather Project because we know that someone else, another consciousness that exists outside of us, created and offered us an alternative version of reality. Maybe this is just me being solipsistic, but I think it makes sense. The "natural world" is a reflection of how we perceive reality through our limited, physical senses, but to see another's simulation of something, we gain a better understanding of how other's see reality. Again, it's a simple idea, but an important one, I think. I'd go as far as to say that simulations of things can be more meaningful than the "real" thing because it is a simulation. If it made by another consciousness, there is the implication and assumption that there is meaning, why else would anyone make it? This is only true under the assumption that one doesn't find the world inherently meaningful, or doesn't believe in some form of Creationism or higher power.
This is a TED talk by Olafur Eliasson, who is an installation artist primarily, and very active in the contemporary scene. I'm not going to try to sum him up entirely, or even just his artistic career. I will however briefly talk about some of the work he has done and what I find interesting about it. I first learned of him through a site called moonmoonmoonmoon. It's a 3D space that exists on a server, accessible through a browser, that hosts a large white sphere. On this sphere, anyone is invited to draw whatever they please, and the results are shown publicly and simultaneously; everyone has access to this moon.
This work is a good primer on what he is primarily interested in. An activation of space, one that is usually considered anti-social (the Tate Modern's Turbine Hall, various white-wall galleries, etc). In a sense, he create simulations. In his work "The Weather Project", the Tate modern played host to a simulated Sun, which was accompanied by a subtle fog, and a massive mirror in the ceiling so visitors could lounge on the floor looking up at themselves. More recently, he has simulated a rocky mountain side featuring a small stream running through a gallery space. The seemingly featureless, grey landscape was only broken by the trickle of water that bisects the room. This stream is also the beginning of a narrative.
So what interests me most about all of this is why anyone would be engaged by a simulation of something when the "real thing" is so quotidian. A 2D, orange circle in place of a star, a room half full with pebbles as opposed to an actual field. What makes such shallow "copies" of these environments even remotely meaningful or seizing? I like the idea that we find a simulation of something more meaningful compared to the "real" thing because we know that effort, time, and creativity was put into the creation of it.
We can appreciate The Weather Project because we know that someone else, another consciousness that exists outside of us, created and offered us an alternative version of reality. Maybe this is just me being solipsistic, but I think it makes sense. The "natural world" is a reflection of how we perceive reality through our limited, physical senses, but to see another's simulation of something, we gain a better understanding of how other's see reality. Again, it's a simple idea, but an important one, I think. I'd go as far as to say that simulations of things can be more meaningful than the "real" thing because it is a simulation. If it made by another consciousness, there is the implication and assumption that there is meaning, why else would anyone make it? This is only true under the assumption that one doesn't find the world inherently meaningful, or doesn't believe in some form of Creationism or higher power.
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
Taylor Stevenson: Alyscia Cunningham
Over the thanksgiving holiday I attended the Reginald F. Lewis Museum in
Baltimore, Maryland. This exhibit focused on African American roots in Maryland
throughout slavery through to the civil war and to current issues. In the
exhibit there was a particular piece that interested me Alyscia Cunningham work entitled By Any Means. Which was a self-portrait of
the artist that takes Harriet Tubmans standpoint of never returning back to
slavery. Cunningham’s work employs dramatic lighting because she feels as
if it “fosters a greater interaction between the viewer and the
photographs”. I really enjoyed Cunninghams use of
historical reference in her photos, it shows that she is aware. This
work is also significant to the exhibit because it is relating past
historical moments to current forms of expression, which helps too tie the
exhibit together.
However she also known for her Feminine Transitions book that celebrates the beauty of women aged 7 to 103 years.
Monday, December 1, 2014
Liesa Collins - Weekly Artist Post
Gordon Stettinius
Gordon Stettinius is an American photographer based in Richmond, Va. He is the founder and director of Candela Gallery and Books. This series that he did in collaboration with Terry Brown is called the Mangini Studio Series and has over fifty studio disguises mainly focused around hair. This series is currently on view at Page Bond Gallery. When I was a freshmen, I emailed Gordon about some information on this series because I was recreating the idea in my own project. He was super great about it and told me it originated from an assignment when he taught at VCU and just messing around with Terry in the studio that they met at. Terry Brown is also an amazing person who I love to talk to whenever I get the chance. This is more of an appreciation text than anything. But this series is tight.
Raven M - Now! Again! Travis Wilkerson
"NOW! AGAIN! is a reenactment of a classic radical film, "Now" by Santiago Alvarez, staged this summer in Ferguson, Missouri by the cops themselves. Playing themselves, the cops reenact their own vicious history as if they were checking their performance in a mirror shattered by gunfire. NOW! AGAIN! blows up at the intersection of an avant-garde film act and an urgent manifesto for militant action, demanding an end to police violence NOW!"
Last class there was a brief moment where we brought up the concept of 'modern day lynching' and I noticed a bit of hesitation to refer to what in going on in our present day political stratum as a lynching. I didn't really know how to vocalize how that made me feel then, and perhaps I still have trouble putting words to why that "idea" seems so prevalent to me. Maybe the feeling to too raw now. But I was pointed towards this short film, by one of my favorite documenters and I feel that it speaks to what is going on now. People try to pull what's going on now away from the context of the Civil Rights Movements, when people try to demonize protesters and admonish people in there journey of grief, and these are things that drive me crazy simply because no one has the right to say how anyone should mourn. But back to the contact of the piece; Wilkerson draws an excellent parallel between then and now.
teddy-artist-keith miller
Keith Miller wrote and directed the film, Five Star. It is a film that blurs the line between fiction and reality. His main actor, James Grant, aka 'primo', is the actual leader of the gang, the bloods, in eastern New York City. In the film, Grant plays the same role. The film explores the relationship between Primo and a young man struggling to decide if he wants to pursue a life in a gang. In this film about growing up and manhood, gang life is shown from a different perspective. It explores a gang member away from a gang and the struggles that arise.
http://www.littlerockfilmfestival.org/2014/05/15/qa-with-five-star-director-keith-miller/
http://fivestarthemovie.com/
http://www.littlerockfilmfestival.org/2014/05/15/qa-with-five-star-director-keith-miller/
http://fivestarthemovie.com/
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